They gave me therapy (Cliché pt. 2)

Aye, I’m still alive. Not that my Bipolar put an effort to attain that objective, but. I’m alive.

Since I last wrote I’ve really changed psychiatrists and found out that my old psychoncolgy psych was trying to kill me without even knowing – she’d put me on three (THREE) antidepressants with no mood stabiliser. I don’t know how I’m still out of hospital after the multiple manias I fell into, but oh well.

When I entered my new psych’s office I was actually in the midst of one of the worst catatonic depressions I’ve ever experienced and I had a few days left before my graduation (YES I DID GRADUATE IN THE END AND IT WAS A SUCCESS, I’LL POST A PIC 😀 😀 😀 ), so she put me on send-this-poor-girl-up rescue therapy. Doing that she allowed me to graduate showing my full potential and it was brilliant, I’m so proud of myself for that.

The downside? Yes, mania. Multiple manias. Again. This time I hit a 10 and did end up to the A&E with a double dose delorazepam IV and my therapy substantially changed.

I graduated on November 30th. Now, a month later, I’m (I think) (oh Goddess let’s hope so) finally heading to stability with my Lithium finally starting to work and I survived.

Again, I survived.

And here’s a pic of my graduation 😀




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