Sooo. I have a diagnosis. And I think that probably it's correct. Bipolar II.
Now I have my little bag of psych meds and my pdoc and my therapist. Haven't started the pills yet. I have a wedding to go to tomorrow and want to wait until after.
I feel like it's been a terrible summer - very stressful. I was crying all last night about our friend who died. It was so unnecessary. It didn't have to happen. I have to do something about it. I'm pretty sure I'm a little hypomanic about now. Am I dumping this on this blog suddenly? maybe. I've never been a good blogger.
But for the first time, I have a therapist who is clear and concise. She asks questions; she's direct. I feel like I have a long way to go. I'm trying to avoid another breakdown. Holding for 7 days between appts gives me the tools to take a deep, hang on until next time. The pdoc actually talked to me. I had a lot of anxiety that I would be mistreated there, but he listened to me. And he mentioned bipolar II without me mentioning it. Which really gives more credibility to the diagnosis. So if my meds don't give me a deadly rash, it's supposed to make me feel much better.
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