About ​The Bipolar Writer – Part Two

I wanted to share the first chapter of my Memoir. I have decided that I am going to try and go down the traditional route from now until my birthday. If by then I have not found an agent I will self-publish (my birthday is in April.) This a long chapter, so I will be dividing it up into a three-part series. Here is part one.

Part Two – An Origins Story

I can trace my depression back to when I was a teenager around fourteen. It was the first time in my life that I felt comfortable being an introvert, and I struggled to keep up with my friends. Before high school, I went to my friend’s sleepovers and lived like an average kid. So many things changed in high school experience that led me to be who I am today. I hung out with friends at school in high school, but not outside of school/ I preferred to be alone. I realize now that school became a “safe place” because it was a place that I had to be. When I graduated there was not one friendship I took into adulthood. The small group of friends I have now were all a part of my adult life.

A safe place is a theme that shows up often in my life. I started to realize I could be happy alone. My depression would take severe turns during my high school years. It was easier to be with myself when depression took me over. It was a familiar feeling. Loneliness was something I did well when everything else in my life fell apart it felt right. 

My sophomore year is an excellent example of events that shaped how I dealt with depression. It was a sad year for me, and I had to combat my depression on a daily basis. I ditched school almost weekly with my cousin. It was the first time in my life that turned to marijuana to cope with my depression and my social anxiety. It helped in the short-term but never in the long-term. Turning to something to keep me steady is another theme I learned at an early age.

I would spend days at the time in bed when not hanging out with my cousin, or sitting around for hours playing video games. I ditched school so much, but I always had a good excuse in hand and could write excuse notes like there was no tomorrow. My parents never knew about the time I missed that year. To this day, I am not sure why the school believed that someone could be sick as often as I called in sick. In my sophomore year was the first time in my life that I failed classes in school. I got back on track that summer and took classes to make up for my bad grades. As a teenager, I learned that no matter what I could always find my way out of the bad that came with my depression.

At the time I chalked my sophomore year to something kids do. It was so much deeper than that because it was a sign that I was getting good at hiding things. Another theme that often comes up in my life. It was the first time that I let my depression control me for an extended period in my life. Depression became my constant companion after my sophomore year in high school.

I got back on track in a big way my junior year of high school. My grades got back to their normal levels. It helped that I had become a part of a group organization (my local sheriff explorers) that took up so much of my time during the end my sophomore year. It became a place where I belonged, and I did belong at some level. The truth is that as much as I belonged, I was an outsider because I was very manic at this point in my life. I can look back to the long hours spend at events and ride-alongs as a sign just how manic I really was at this point in my life. (I will explain more about this time in a later chapter.)

 By my senior year, my depression became a significant part of my life again, but this time it hurt less to miss a ton of school this time around. I won’t lie, it came down to the wire if I would be able to graduate, but I figured it out. It wasn’t that I was smart. It has always been the opposite. I was barely trying when I was lost in the endless depression. 

My senior year was the first time that I can say that I went through my first real depression cycle. It started early my senior year and lasted all the way to well past when I graduated high school. I began to spend days at a time laying in bed lost in the endless darkness that was my depression. It was a strange place to be, and I had no idea that there was something really wrong with me.

End of Part Two. If you have not please read part one here.

Always Keep Fighting

James

GoFundMe Campaign

https://www.gofundme.com/rasing-to-upgrade-the-bipolar-writer-blog

Now, I had to use my real name for this (I write under my pseudonym James Edgar Skye) so don’t be surprised by the name–David TC. Also, this allows me to show how much has been donated (I will give the running total at the end of the post.

unsplash-logoNicole Honeywill

unsplash-logoIan Espinosa

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