My whole life I’ve been told I’m bipolar. It started as a term that was thrown around throughout high school. Then when I mentioned it in college, the counseling center told me they couldn’t help me (freshman year, I was homesick but thanks asshole.) I finally saw a psychiatrist and told her my experiences without mentioning terms and she told me it seemed like bipolar II. I was told that growing up as well. I also had just come out of almost a year long depressive phase caused by grief and change. Fast forward to now, I’m feeling worse and worse by the day. I’m barely in reality anymore, I’m incredibly paranoid and I’m started to hallucinate. My dreams and nightmares are so vivid, I wake up not knowing where I am and what is happening. I’m going beyond over planning and overworking to simply feeling the need to do something even if I’m pacing back and forth for an hour. I’m so hyper sexual that I’m physically restraining myself from sleeping with other people and I have a collection of face masks I’ve bought from impulsive spending in addition to food hoarding. My poor bank account. I’m also smoking cigarettes and want to go out partying by myself which is stupid as a young woman. I’ve been on lamictal long enough to know it’s no longer helping me. And this was the realization that im actually worse off than I think I am. Im unstable in every sense of the word.