I'm a 25-year-old guy who suffers from Bipolar II and I've been unmedicated for four to five months. I work a very stressful job at a nursing home as a CNA. I love the job and my residents but administration is as you'd expect. CNAs get shit on. I'm mentally and physically tired 24/7 and we're always short-handed. I'm currently looking for a new job but it's a challenge.

Let's start this story, shall we?

I fell in love with my first car, a 2004 Cadillac CTS 3.6L. I wrecked it while I was manic and unmedicated. Even after I lost the first Caddy, I continued to look for another that brought back my spark for my long-lost car. I've been searching steadily for a vehicle for at least six months, just waiting for the one.

Well, my mom, not knowing I'd been off my medication for a good period but being proud of my work performance, mentioned that I needed to get serious about getting a new car. I agreed and showed her a few Cadillacs, a couple of BMWs, a 350z, and a Mercedes, all under $7000. My parents were hesitant towards the Beamers, 350z, and Mercedes. As you can tell, I'm picky and enjoy even outdated luxury cars. I have a type.

My mother and I ended up having an off day together, so I mentioned the cars and asked if we could go to our bank to talk about loan options. The same day we went to the bank, we left with $7000. We never expected that to happen, especially so fast, but it started an unfortunate flame in me. That night, we started going over the cars I had shown her. Just as before, they were hesitant and my mother kept saying, "Just because we have the money doesn't mean we HAVE to spend it."

I was really looking forward to getting a car I knew I'd enjoy, but instead of acting like an adult, I got frustrated and anxious at the same time. I don't know how to describe it, but I started crying like a baby. I guess in a way, I was using the idea of getting a car and how I'd feel in it as a crutch. My mother looked at me like I was crazy until I explained how work was going and how I'm just so depressed, that it wasn't really about the car, I was just so frustrated. She understood, as much as she could, and she told me we'd both call in and go looking for cars.

Well, we found a beautiful 2007 Cadillac in a town about 45 minutes away. It looked amazing and only 111,000 miles? Sign me up. Only thing is that it was a 2.3L engine, which I didn't know until I got home. Guy never mentioned it and I never asked. He talked a lot about everything else other than the car and I forgot to ask. And the thing is that I wasn't even overly excited or anything. I checked the dipstick, oil cap for crud, exhaust pipe, rotors - everything! But I didn't ask about engine size. I even talked him from the $7,900 after fees to $6,700 after fees. I know it's such a small thing, but it breaks my heart. I couldn't even tell you why. I have this pit of anxiety just rushing through me because I bought this car. Am I crazy, unmedicated, or a brat? Anyone else felt like this?