I was diagnosed bipolar when I was 25. My mum always thought something was wrong with me. I had seen shrinks from the time I was 5 until I stopped going at 15. I had been medicated, hospitalized, therapized, and re-medicated. Yet I wasn't properly diagnosed until a decade later. I later found out, that while I was in the hospital, they bandied about the "BIPOLAR" diagnosis, but for some reason it didn't stick.
I'm hurt by that. I have a terribly spotty job history, 125+ earned credit hours from 3 colleges but no useful degree. I have very few long-term relationships. I would sabotage everything. I failed out of aforementioned colleges because I would stay awake 3 days in a row, then crash for 18 hours. Or just skip class for weeks because I could barely get out of bed. I would stop showing up at work because I wanted to watch movies, or something equally stupid. I ticked people off and kicked them out of my life on a whim. 10 years of chaos and disorder that I can't ever get back. 10 years of disastrous, volatile living that I can't forget. I feel sometimes like I got cheated. What could I have become? Who would I have ended up as?
I don't know why the system failed me. I don't know why my parents failed me. But here I am, at 27, trying to start over. I've been thinking for the past year about going back to school. I'm finally on good meds and have been stable for over a year. But for the last few weeks, I've been dreaming about college. And yesterday, I decided on a program I want to pursue at the local community college. Today I applied for admission to the Spring '14 semester.
And I'm scared. I'm scared they will look at my transcripts and say "What the hell?" I have classes ranging from Theatre II to Calculus 3 and Organic Chemistry. I have always been so all over the map, and I'm afraid that that will count against me now. But I really want this. I want to do something with my life. I'm tired of sitting around the house hoping that soon we'll get foster kids, yet feeling like I'm just so damn smart and I'm wasting my life.
I'm terrified that even if, by some miracle, I'm allowed to take classes, that I will stop going midway through the semester. Like I have for 80% of my college history. I'm petrified that this endeavour will be nothing more than another crazy scheme that doesn't work out. I don't want to disappoint my husband, or waste money.
I can tell myself that this time will be different, and I'll actually do my homework and show up. But the truth of it is, I just don't know. And not knowing is what freaks me out most.