Where my Story Began (part 2)….Destructive Behaviour

Posted: March 28, 2015 in Bipolar, Bipolar Disorder
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*This is part 2 of my Where My Story Began series* 

They say when one door closes another one opens, and that is exactly what happened during my second last year of high school. I closed the door on cutting, and opened a new door where drinking, smoking, partying and experimenting lay behind it. 

Bipolar episodes, after I became aware of having the disorder and what the episodes actually were, are very apparent as I look back over my teenage years. During the last 2 years of high school the highs and lows of bipolar are quite evident. 

The high phases were mostly characterized by destructive behaviours. I began to drink and party often with my friends, experimented with drugs and smoked cigarettes daily. I went to school everyday, mainly for the social aspect, and my grades periodically (during high and low phases) suffered. I did manage to pass all my courses surprisingly, although not due to any homework or studying I did. 

For sometimes 2-3 months straight every weekend I would drink and party with my friends- mainly beer but harder stuff sometimes when we could get our hands on it. I worked part time, 3 hours each day after school, which mainly funded my weekends, and when I wasn’t working I would carefully steal money from my parents- something I am not proud of to this day. Along with the drinking I would sometimes dabble in drugs, although nothing heavy, a little weed here and there. 

I had a group of regular friends who I partied and hung out with often, but I also had other friends who weren’t regulars and it was these friends that I often made the worst decisions with.  There was one particular friend who I will call Ray. He was in his early twenties (I was 16) and he had a thing for me but the feelings weren’t mutual. I liked hanging out with him, but mainly for the stready supply of free booze he provided and the scatter joint. It was while hanging out with Ray that I began doing what I would much later in life view as probably my most destructive, and dangerous, behaviour- driving Ray’s car…without a license or even a beginners permit, often while under the influence of alcohol and/or drugs. One particular incident stands out in my mind quite well…..

I was dating a guy I will call Dale. Coincidentally, Dale was bipolar and ADHD, but at that time I really didn’t know anything about either illness. What I did know was that my pull towards Dale was strong, and his periods of hyperness and depression only made me more crazy for him, which speaks volumes about my mental instability at the time as well. One night, after just returning for a week long trip to visit friends because my parents thought it might do me some good to get away after I had quit my summer job (personally I think they were pissed, at their wits end, and needed me out of their hair!), I was at an outdoor party in Dale’s hometown (just a 20 minute drive from my own). I had made the trip with Ray and a couple other friends. While standing around a fire put and drinking I learned that while I had been away Dale had been calling his ex girlfriend. I was so angry. I asked him to come with me so we could talk, jumped in Ray’s car, and tore off through the gravel pit towards the main road, filled with a lethal combination or rage, jealousy and vodka! We hit the main road travelling at about 80/h and we speed out of the town moments later. The next small town was just 5 minutes away and the short distance was filled with sharp turns, jagged road side cliffs on one side, and rocky ocean shores on the other. Although I had wanted to talk, I didn’t say a word as my foot pressed harder on the gas,  speedometer slowly increasing to 90, then 100 km/h. As I took a particularly sharp turn at just below 120km/h Dale screamed at me to slow down. His voice and the look on his face brought me back to reality and I did slow down, then pulled over to the side of the road, turned the car around and headed back to the party. Minutes later, Dale left and didn’t done back. Ray was pissed that I had taken the car without asking (but not pissed enough to not ask me drive it home hours later) and Dale and I were done.

I drove that old car for months after, almost driving it into a ditch a couple time when I was too drunk to see the road. Looking back at this period in my life I literally get chills. I could have killed myself, my friends, Ray. I could have killed the driver of an oncoming car, or one of the many cars I would speed past on the road. I could have destroyed so many So many could haves. 

There are so many stories I could tell, so much that, since my diagnosis as I have looked back over my life, I have learned about myself, so much about my life that makes sense. In time I will share more. There is so much more of my story to tell, and still so much more of it to live. My story isn’t over yet. 

  



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Comments
  1. Deanne says:

    Very true and powerful words “everyone has gone through something that changed them” thanks for sharing your story. Look forward to reading more ❤

    Like

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