Mistaken Grief – Bipolar Disorder


When I got diagnosed with bipolar disorder about 3 years ago, I thought my life, as I knew it would come to an end. It felt a little like I lost someone and I was grieving their loss.

In the beginning, I denied the diagnosis. I called my mom after my doctors appointment and I told her what my doctor had said but I told her they must be wrong. There is no way that I had bipolar disorder. Everything I knew about it I heard from movies or stories and there was no way that I was the same as those people. What I didn’t know… Every diagnosis is different and what I had learned and experienced on social media and in the movies was full of taboo stereotypes and was often misrepresented.

After that I was so angry. Every little thing tipped me off. Things that I was usually just fine with like my roommate leaving her coffee mug  sitting around in the morning and it still being there when I got home at night would just make me so frustrated.  I was just bitter.


After I was bargaining with myself. What if the doctors were wrong? What if they just misdiagnosed me or confused the file? What if I was just in a really bad dream and once I wake up I will be normal? Whether that was because of my bipolar or because I was grieving I’m not sure but while I was doing all this bargaining I fell into a depression. And that is what got me to finally accept my disorder. After about a month, I finally allowed my doctor to prescribe me medication. I accepted that I was suffering from a disorder that I had little control over. My doctor convinced me that not being on medication is like denying a diabetic person his insulin. It took some time to adjust to it but you wouldn’t believe how helpful it has been.

After having accepted my diagnosis and opening up about it I realized that having bipolar disorder is not the worst thing that can happen. Yes, most days are a struggle but I wouldn’t be me. I’m not a different person because of it but bipolar disorder makes me me. I am unique and I am made up of so many more things than my disorder. It


seemed like I lost a part of myself the day I got my diagnosis but now looking back on it I didn’t lose anything. Instead I gained a deeper understanding of who I am.





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