My story, feelings and experiences (not where i thought I'd end up!)

Hi! so this is my first post on here.

I'm in the midst of a bit of a depressive bit and I've been spending a lot of times in my thoughts. I really feel like sharing my story and experience with bipolar as it's something I can't really talk about with people in my life... so here goes!

I had my first manic episode in 2014 on my gap year. I was traveling overseas alone and had set up a little life for myself in the middle-east, i had a boyfriend, job etc. The symptoms started showing up where i was shopping incessantly, I became obsessed with costume stores and underwear stores. Hypersexuality, talking incessantly and being gleefully excited about the most mundane things. I also became incredibly irritable, which my partner at the time found difficult to deal with. The relationship ended shortly after. I went home and then back overseas to try and salvage my "gap year" but struggled traveling alone and quickly fell into a depressive episode. I would be in various countries, but unable to get out of bed and/or interact socially. I have memories of lying in hostel beds and wasting the days just staring at the ceiling.

When i returned after traveling, i moved states to go to university. Things were okay for the first few months. I really enjoyed my new life and the people i was meeting. I had a really fun job at a bar/music venue and enjoyed my classes and new university friends. But there was a social issue at the house i was living in and i quickly lost my house/became homeless. All of a sudden, I couldn't attend classes anymore and soon fell into a manic episode (again), the rest of that year was a bit of a blur. I spent the duration of that episode trying to find stable accommodation. Pretty much just running around the city. I then became convinced that I was going to become a famous screenwriter and filmmaker after writing an "award winning script" (without having taken any writing classes etc). It's all I would talk about and i became incredibly focused. All the while not working, and living off benefits. Despite moving about 3 times during that year, I was able to make friends and found myself in a creative community. I did have bouts of hypersexuality and irritability which resulted in needing to leave an accommodation in one case.

The summer hit later that year (December in Australia) and for me summer is usually when I hit my depressions the hardest. Since highschool, I have felt deeply insecure about my relationships and so seeing people attending festivals, traveling together and celebrating the summer together has made me feel depressed. In that I don't feel as though I have a group to do those activities with. So again, I spent the majority of the summer in bed. Unable to get out of bed and over eating.

It always happens the beginning of mania, the feeling of just doing absolutely anything simply to not be depressed anymore. (At this point I still hadn't accepted that I really had mania/bipolar) I returned back to university. I put the shame of my depressive episodes and past manic episodes behind me. Moved back to the city, into a new house, making new friends etc. Despite finding study to be isolating at times, and not feeling as though I had a strong group of friends, I did have a few really close friends who I spent time with. Studying, going to gigs, eating dinner together and attending parties. I felt happy. Not manic happy, but content. And I was grateful for having stability back. Then I started dating someone towards the end of the semester and that triggered my third manic episode. This episode was really bad. All of the symptoms came back 10 fold. The hypersexuality, talking incessantly, later the irritability, over-spending, drinking a lot A LOT, paranoia (I became suspicious of his friends, and of my own family members, and at times him). I soon dropped out of university again, or rather just simply stopped attending classes. That person broke up with me and in place of the people who were in my life before, I attracted new people who were "drug addicts". My housemates all left the house due to my irritability and drinking. And so these new people started hanging around. I was so manic that I didn't even realize that they were using drugs, and if I did, it didn't phase me. I then became hyper fixated on tarot and spirituality. I formed all these deluded beliefs about myself (having super-human powers, being telepathic etc) which excused me from "regular" social responsibilities - like communicating with my family and old friends. Eventually, I lost my house again and became homeless, again. Except for this time, there was no one to help me, no friends to stay with, nothing. I slept in my art studio and/or at hotels, on the street or airbnb's... I had justified it to myself that I was on a spiritual mission, that everything in my life "had" to be "taken away" from me in order to understand "the truth". At this point, I had turned 21 and there was no one at my birthday.

At the moment i'm a month shy of my 22nd birthday. It's been a year since those events transpired. I found myself over the summer working on a farm where my mania calmed down a bit. I eventually found people to stay with, who helped me get back on my feet. I moved back to the city and reconnected with old friends who helped me find a new house. I spent the first 6 months after the summer working on farms and trying to patch my life back together and make it the way it was before my manic episode. I found this process so difficult. Going out and seeing people's reactions to me has been difficult. Logging onto facebook and seeing old people in my community "unfriend" or even "block me" (I would hassle message people or post aggressive rambles on facebook during irritable times). And being straight-up ignored by some. While I still had a few connections, my social life wasn't as busy or stable as it once was. My best friend had left the city and I pretty much started to give up. Even though my new housemates were supportive and kind, I struggled to find a job. Eventually, the depression started creeping back, making it difficult to get out of bed. I stopped washing my clothes regularly (I gave most of them away during my manic episode last year as I thought god wanted me to "cleanse myself of material possessions"). I either under-ate or over-ate. I struggled to get into the university course that I wanted to get into. And also the difficulty of accepting that I had lost a relationship due to my mania has been really hard.

I moved back to my parent's house, leaving that city. I'm now attending university in their town - but it's been hard letting go of the vision of the life i was trying to build before. I'm not enjoying this course as much, and I've been finding it really difficult to meet like-minded people.(I'm also now taking medication! lithium whaddup)

I'm questioning whether I will ever be able to have a stable, romantic relationship. If I will ever find a career that I enjoy, and whether or not I will find a group of people who accept me for who I am and who will be my friends! I'm tired of having to start and re-start my life every 6 months. I talked to a woman who is about 10 years older than me and it seemed as though being bipolar doesn't get much better. I'm afraid that I'm doomed to a life of instability. I've been spending most of my time in bed, aside from the time I spend at university.

If you would have asked me in highschool where I saw myself when I was 22. I would have told you that I see myself living with a boyfriend, in a nice sharehouse - perhaps employed in my dream field (media) and having finished my first degree. Not where iI am now, which is not much of an improvement from my 18 year old gap year depression and slightly less hopeful.

Anyway, sorry for the long essay! It just felt good to write it and I'm interested to hear if this story resonates with anyone.

Thank you,

A