BiPolar disorder, when I was diagnosed it was merely known as Manic Depression. No one EVER talked about it and most had no idea what it even was. Then all of sudden those words came into my life.
My day had started like any other on that bitterly cold morning. The ice was hanging from the trees like lace, it was so beautiful. But after I arrived at Kindergarten that morning I would never be the same.
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But today was to be a different experience altogether. I don't really remember how it started. I do however remember her face just inches from mine as she screamed. "WHY DID YOU DO THAT?"
I didn't even know what she was talking about but she just kept yelling. "LIAR, LIAR why are you lying?"
Ironically, I didn't really know that liars really existed. In my family, we didn't lie. Whatever I said my parents knew was the truth. That was just the way it was. So as she screamed liar, liar at me, my mind fell apart.
She grabbed me by the shoulders and shook as hard as she could. Thank heavens she was a tiny woman, but I was really little. The seams of my dress ripped as the material gave way to her vigorous shakes.
The tears fell down my cheeks as I kept saying "I'm not a liar." Nothing mattered to her. She was convinced I was guilty and whatever I said was inconsequential.
When my Mama picked me up I was deep in the darkness of a breakdown. It was a dark period for me, days later when I was so far into the world my parents didn't know anything about they took me to the doctor. Because they just wanted me to get over it. They were furious with the teacher and the school. (Side note) the teacher was never allowed to teach again. It didn't matter though the damage was done.
I remember the doctor who I had been seeing for the blue feelings I kept having even long before that day as he stood there trying to explain that the episode as he put it, had brought out my inner problems. The diagnosis of Manic Depression would come in the next few weeks as they tried to get me to move on.
No matter what I just could not get out of the sad deep dark hole I had crawled in to. For the, most part I have fought with that darkness every day since.
Manic Depression really big words for a five year to try and cope with. But as I took the lithium every morning.
Sitting on the cabinet as Mama would crush the little pill in a spoon, because I was horrified I would choke to death and die. Then, my days would consist of someone making me leave the house and go to school. At first, they would walk with us and go back home. I would stay for a few minutes then at the first chance I could get away without the teacher seeing me I ran home.
A few times of that and now Daddy began to drive me. It was horrible and I know he suffered too. But he would pull the car up to the corner by the school where two teachers met him. They would grab me by the arms and hold me as he sped away. I would scream, cry, beg and if they let I would run.
So with my flee instincts really strong I wasn't usually allowed outside during recess. I had to stay inside where someone could keep an eye on me.
Those were my days. But it was the night that was the worst. My heart would beat so loud it felt like you could hear it miles away. I would hyperventilate until I passed out and sit hidden in the darkness of the closet.
Those were the days of my life as I sank deeper within the dark world of my soul. The days when I became personal friends with panic attacks.
Five years old is supposed to be a time of happiness and laughter while you played. For me it was a learning period. Learning to hide what was going on inside of me.
My parents didn't understand, which they can't be blamed for. Mama just knew she had done something wrong and even though she never formed the words to me, I felt like she believed I wasn;t a good girl. Because if I was God would have answered her prayers and helped me.
It has been a long journey for me. One that I wouldn't wish on anyone. There are such highs for me and lows just as far down as the high was up.
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