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Where To Begin?

Where to begin? I guess I should start by introducing myself. My name is Scott; I am 39 years old, a father, a fiancée, a son and a brother. I've been divorced twice and hospitalized, analyzed and ostracized. I have bipolar disorder with borderline personality disorder and mild OCD thrown in just for fun. My life has been a rollercoaster ride through Hell most of my life.

Bipolar has cost me plenty: two marriages, countless other relationships, so much money that I lost track of it all, the respect of peers, my dignity and self-respect and the list goes on. The odd thing is, while it was happening I wasn't aware that it was happening - that was until the big train wreck happened. It was inevitable that it would crash, because it was not only out of control, it didn't even have a conductor on board. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder (I love the term disorder because it accurately described my life then and to some extent still does today) several years ago. How long ago escapes me - dates and time frames are very vague - especially when the disease was at its worst.

I suspect the diagnosis was around 1995 or 1996. From that moment on my life changed drastically. Weird, often dangerous, behaviors were now explained to some degree. Unfortunately, I thought my behavior was normal, even "more normal" than most at the time. I truly felt that I was doing nothing strange, no matter what the behavior, and that everyone around me wanted to be like me.

Hell, why wouldn't you want to be able to stay awake for days on end, have so many thoughts and ideas bombarding their brain that you couldn't keep them straight, let alone get them down on paper fast enough? What man doesn't want endless sexual energy? Why not sleep with two, three, even four different women in a day, or even at one time? Boundless energy - it sure helped at work! Raises, promotions, offers from bigger and better corporations, it's all good!

Charming? You bet! My second ex-wife told me I could charm the pants off of any woman, and believe me, I tried. I had it all - recognition, money, a family, power within the organization, and extra-curricular activities that no one knew about. I was the "up and coming kid." I was the life of the party. I was the "fun dad," the one who would play "Pretty, Pretty Princess," the one who would dive into the play pit at McDonald's, the one everybody noticed.

Of course, I always choose to remember the good things about bipolar, never the crazed lunatic, the drunk, the loud-mouthed jerk. I try to forget about waking up not knowing where the $1,000 I had in my wallet yesterday was the next morning, the fights, the uncontrolled anger, the whores, the drugs, locking myself in my office with the lights out hidden beneath my desk.

I remember the ideas but ignore the fact that I could never pull them off. Some ideas where good, some were so far out there people probably thought I was insane. I have been there, done that and bought the t-shirt. In my column I will pull no punches, I will tell it just as it happened, no matter how painful or scary it may be. I am sure that if certain members of my family read my column they would be shocked and horrified they would probably disown me, but that's okay, this is who I am.

I have been asked to be a regular, contributing writer on this web site and have decided to do so. I am not a member of the medical or psychology professions, I am not offering advice. I am only relaying my life's experiences. Some of the things will have happened as long ago as 25 years; others will have happened on the day I write the column. I agreed to do this for two reasons; the first is because I hope that by putting my life down in writing that it will help me to cope with this disease and to become a better partner to my fiancée and a better father to my daughter. I have been living the "life" for as long as I can remember, far longer than I have been diagnosed and coping is often difficult at best. The second reason is that by writing this column maybe I can benefit someone else who is bipolar. If nothing else, maybe someone will read about one of my experiences and realize that there is someone else out there who has gone through the same thing and life won't seem quite so unfair and they won't feel quite so alone. In the end, that is perhaps the harshest legacy of bipolar disorder - the loneliness - and I'd like to think my writing will take some of that away for a few people like me.

About the Author

Scott Wilkerson is a contributing writer for BipolarCentral.com.

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