The Disorder

The ‘Disorder’

It was kind of scary for Denise when she heard the words, ‘bi-polar disorder.’  She had heard of it before but didn’t really know much about it.  She thought of it as one of those things that crazy people have.

For as long as she remembered she felt sad most of the time.  She always blamed it on the fact that she was adopted.  She hated being adopted, everything about it.  No matter what anyone said to her about the reasons she was adopted, it still spelled 'abandonment' to her. 

Though she would never say it out loud she often wondered, "What is so bad about me that my own mother gave me away?"  That is how it felt to her, and nothing anyone said would convince her differently.   

It was hard to explain to others.  She loved her parents, and they loved her.  “But unless you’re adopted,” she wanted to tell her friends, “you can’t imagine what’s it’s like to feel different from everyone else every day of your life.”

So, it was never a big mystery to her that she was so sad.  She was shocked by some observations her friends had made lately, and even some things her mom had noticed.  Several of her friends had commented, “Gee, Denise, your mood changes like daylight to dark. One minute you're happy and flying high; the next you're grumpy and snap at whatever we say!”  They had even said she was bi-polar.  She laughed along with them, but she didn’t really understand what they meant. 

Her mom had noticed that she was especially unpredictable as well.  Sometimes Denise would yell at her over the least little thing.  Now, here she was, sitting in her psychiatrist’s office, hearing the words, ‘bi-polar disorder.’ 

Denise had to admit she had noticed some changes in her mood as well.  She just never knew it was a ‘disorder’.  “Great!" she thought.  "Just what I needed--  something else to make me feel different and weird.”

Her doctor gave her a couple of prescriptions and talked to her at length about the importance of taking them every single day.  "Why?" Denise questioned.

"With this disorder, and these kinds of drugs," the doctor patiently explained, "the medication has to build up in your system.  If you stop taking it suddenly, or don't take it consistently, you will feel even worse than you do now."

Two weeks later she was beginning to feel better about the whole thing.  It did seem that she was better able to tolerate her mother, and didn’t snap at her so easily.

Still, this new feeling was strange.  Normal for Denise had always included perpetual sadness about the rotten world she lived in.  Her favorite hobby was commiserating with her gothic and emo friends about the sad state of the world. 

She was used to being really into one thing at a time--some new computer game which she would play for hours, or a new Play Station game, or even a band.  She would find temporary joy and excitement in the form of a new addiction.  But the sadness would always return, like an old friend.

With the new medication she was now taking, things felt different—not the “normal” that she was used to.  So, she sometimes “forgot” to take her medication.  “Don’t you want to feel better?” her mom would ask.  “Don’t you want to be happy?”  Of course she did, but this new feeling was just weird. 

Eventually, though, she did start taking her medication every day.  She still felt a little weird with these new feelings. She began to actually enjoy life sometimes.  Some light began to shine through the darkness. She decided that being more like other girls her age was something she wanted.  Life didn't feel hopeless anymore.



********For my daughter who was finally diagnosed with BPD at the age of fifteen, and is finally able to feel some of the joy she has been denying herself.