EPIC

Friday was a big day. 

So much so that I don't know if I have to energy to fully write about it, but I thought I'd try...

I had a morning appointment with the on campus psychiatrist as a recommended precaution by my counselor. 

It was strictly to get a medical perspective on my situation and to see if there was anything I should be concerned about medically with pregnancy and Bipolar disorder so that I could be prepared.

Well, that's what I thought, anyway.

After giving him a brief history he proceeded to inform me that I may not in fact even be Bipolar. 

Like, at all.

When I asked what could cause the symptoms that I do have which coincide with those of the disease, he couldn't give me a straight answer. 

Not even close.

So this disease, the issue that I labored to accept and come to terms with, that I've been denied medical insurance for, that deemed me as 'crazy' to my peers...

You're now telling me I never had it?

I 

Fell 

Apart.

He kept telling me this was 'good news.' Ok, but seriously crappy timing!

I couldn't even process this. 

He ended the appointment, clearly having no insight to what he had just done, and I immediately darted into the bathroom to try and gain some composure so I could handle the walk home.

I couldn't call Mr. Spin. I couldn't really even calm my breathing down. It was like I froze.

After almost 10 minutes of hiding in a bathroom stall I left the health center and started my walk home, texting Mr. Spin that things did not go well, but ignoring his attempted calls; there was no way I could not break down if I said the words out loud and I just needed to get home.

I stopped by my professor's office, the one from the previous post, because I had a really heavy question to ask her, and I knew of all the professors and therapists I had access to, she would probably know the answer. 

(Love-hate relationship, remember?)

Did all of my rage, impulsivity, hypomania, depression...did all of that come as a result because of the trauma from the sexual abuse? Could that be entirely responsible for...

everything?

I had to know.

She wasn't in her office. The secretary (you know, the rude one that got on my case Monday when I was in the CAS office?) asked if she could help me with anything...and meant it. 

(It's about time! lol)

I said no and was on my way.

Mr. Spin was pretty relentless in his phone calls, but I just couldn't talk. I kept in touch via text on the way home so he would know when I got back to our place, but also so that I could distract myself enough to get through the walk.

The next thing I know our silver corolla was pulled up next to me on the street with Mr. Spin inside. I didn't even get the door open before I completely broke down into sobs with full hyperventilation. 

He parked in our spot. We sat. I sobbed and sobbed. 

I don't remember at what point he asked me to start talking about what had happened, but eventually he was able to get the just of things.

We both felt very beaten down. 

****

Well, he had to get back to work, and I went inside and agreed that I should probably lay down instead of study. And I planned to do so, but decided to check my email first.

I found an email from school and opened what turned out to be a scholarship notice from the CAS Dept. telling me that "...although we had many strong applicants this year, we are unable to reward all of them and we regret to inform you that you were not selected for the Kimberly Perkins 'Dedication to Academic Excellence in Challenging Circumstances' Award this year..."

I texted Mr. Spin. 

He called. 

I picked up, sobbing. 

He told me I really needed to drink some water.

****

I couldn't be home alone. 

 I started calling family and my dad picked up. 

I only told him about the award and that I couldn't really talk for long and needed to go. 

He immediately called my mom.

One minute after hanging up with him, I called her too. 

She said my dad had just called and he was worried.

I said I had had a very bad day.

She said she knew. 

I said, "No, you don't."

And told her everything.

She was at my apartment 15 minutes later.

I cried hysterically. My throat started burning after awhile from all of the spasms. I think most people really only cry like that once a lifetime, if they're lucky. 

But I was finally able to tell and ask her everything. EVERYTHING. 

What was the real reason why they never did anything about the perpetrator?

Would she change it now?

My fear of the dark, spiders, vampires...my childhood illnesses, the mood swings, my OCD in planning and hyper vigilance, it all came from what he did.

I know I was groomed.

Did she think I was ever really Bipolar?

Why not look into it further?

Does she think that she is really Bipolar, too?

I fired off so many questions...and she just stayed with me.

****

This story has a happy ending.

Well, at least the day itself ended happily.

After all of this madness I still had to go intern and then we had a date night planned with two other couples and it was way too late to back out.

So I was off and interned with red, puffy, burning eyes. 

Thankfully, the make-up was able to cover most of it for our evening out, so the other couples had no idea what had happened.

I don't know how or why, but that night the 6 of us couldn't stop laughing. I haven't laughed that hard since before Baby Spin was born. I actually wished I wasn't pregnant in that moment because I was sure I was either going to wet myself or go into pre-term labor. 

2 1/2 hours of side splitting jokes and humor.

And I was cured. 

I woke up yesterday with the energy to attend a birthday party, an intensely emotional funeral, go swimming, and have another night out with friends.

And now, at 5:30 AM Sunday morning I'm by myself with nothing to distract me.

And I'm still ok.

I know who I am. 

I have for a while.

The reasons and process that made me this way aren't as important as the end result, although it was very unsettling to find my understanding of myself was incorrect. I thought finally I had an understanding and had come to terms with issue A and issue B. But finding out that one of those issues never existed and that my path in life was all stemming from one, single situation that was entirely at someone else's hand...

I don't even know what to say anymore.

You know the irony though? 

Mr. Spin has a radio documentary due in two weeks and he had chosen the topic of 'mental illness.' 

Guess who his prime interviewee was?

Yup.

Guess I totally ruined that one for him.

*grin*

Oh, college, I will miss you. 

Well, sort of...

:)