There is a new man in my life. Dr D, the psychiatrist.
I visited him this afternoon and basically, poured my messed-up little heart out. He seemed to listen more than any other health professional since the infamous Dr H of 2005-2007.
I went to him full of ideas that bipolar was an incorrect diagnosis and that I didn't really need 6 pills a day just to keep me functioning.
But, very gently, he crushed my dreams.
I do have Bipolar Disorder/Manic Depression. I also have what was referred to as a Non-Organic Psychotic Disorder - I've yet to find out what that exactly is.
And just to top it all off, those pills have been increased.
How do I feel about this 'bombshell'? Well it's almost a relief. I have a definite diagnosis and treatment plan all designed to help me navigate this particular period of illness and guard against such severe ones in the future. All of this from a psychiatrist that I actually trust.
That tiny sliver of hope is growing, it's fragile, but I am trying desperately to nurture it.