Okay, I’ll start with my diagnosis. It’s been changed from Major Depression Disorder to Bipolar Disorder, Type II. Why? Well, because I have these uncontrollable rages I go into that last for extended periods of time. They aren’t caused by anything, and make no sense really, but they happen. I thought perhaps it had something to do with my period but it doesn’t. I map all that stuff, record it diligently, and now I’m on birth control, but it doesn’t make a difference. They still happen. And they are exhausting. I think I’m entering one right now. I used to hate the thought of being Bipolar, not because I have anything against those with it, but because I felt like it was too much a “go-to” for doctors. Any time someone experienced any sort of happiness when they were depressed, or coming out of a depressive episode, doctors wanted to automatically say they were Bipolar. No…that’s not really how it works, people. But, the more I learn about this stuff in school, and accept my illness, I understand that I am, in fact, Bipolar. But that’s okay. I would rather be correctly diagnosed and treated, than misdiagnosed and mistreated. Now, for the Borderline, I’m still uncertain sometimes. There are times when I wonder if it all belonged to Mara. Was my soul simply reflecting hers, and I’m not really that bad? Or is it truly and purely me, developed and twisted from the time spent with certain people and having survived certain circumstances? I don’t know. And there’s no way to tell. My mom is certain it fits, and sometimes, I am too. But not always, and that makes me question things.
Brendan (formerly known as Vlad/Darius here) and I are still together. Through this whole revelation, he’s endured mistreatment like you wouldn’t believe. I’ve come close to ending it several times but been talked back from the ledge several times by Jackie and Allister. Even right now, I have an extremely strong urge to punch him in the face but 1) he isn’t here and 2) it isn’t fair. That’s the problem I have. My vision gets so narrow with anger that all I can think about is the rage. I can’t see reason or understand anything that’s happening with the external situation. I just want to satisfy the rage beast. And it is usually thirsty for blood. I even started going to Group again last week because I felt like spending extra time in “therapy” would help. And it would be a good refresher to remember ways to handle the anger. Because usually, I can’t. It doesn’t help either that my friends are nonexistent. I hang out with Brendan, and Brendan only.
The class I’m taking right now seems like it’s going to be interesting but a lot of intensive work. It’s a sex differences class, so we talk about the inequality between men and women, straight and gay, that sort of thing. It’s an upper level and that’s not a problem, but she’s expecting much more work than I was for a summer class. And a group project. The loathing of my student existence. I hate group projects with every bit of my soul. There’s only ten of us in the class so I don’t even understand how that’s going to work but that’s her problem, not mine. My latest problem is that she requires a lot of submissions online after each class and my Internet at Sparks is currently down so I have to travel elsewhere to do such things. It’s a pain in the ass and makes me quite inclined to do no such thing, and stay home and watch Pitch Perfect.
I can’t explain what I’m feeling right now. Part of me is excited and ready to go. I’m focused on all the stuff I have to do at Sparks, with the cleaning and the yardwork. But the other part of me is stressed to the max with just how much work needs to be done, and then me. I can’t quite describe that part of it. Like, people comment on my weight when I post pictures but to me, I’m not skinny enough. Then, when I post pictures, people want to hang out but I don’t have money so it’s facing the fact that I have no job and am totally broke. Or finding something to do with no Internet, no money, being completely alone, and it’s raining outside. How am I supposed to deal with that? It’s the 21st century, not 1753! I’ve watched every movie I’ve owned twice over since I’ve been there. Sometimes I think about moving back home, but whenever I am home, the problems with my dad arise and amount so quickly that I can’t stand being there for just a weekend. I feel stranded. Like, I’m stuck on some desert island where I won’t be able to be rescued for at least another year. And I know that, but I’m already running out of supplies and such. It’s annoying and confusing. This is one of those times when I question the Borderline. Borderline= easily bored. Right now, I’m bored out of my fucking mind. Nothing is satisfying. Nothing. I don’t know what to do. About any of it.