Here's Part 1

So here's part 1 of my story. It's really bleak, and tomorrow I'll post the last part, Part 3. And hopefully after that I'll be blogging about stuff that you all really care about, the funny stuff. Here goes!

Vulnerability
I have depression. Finding this out after many years of conflicting actions,
feelings, ideas, somewhat brings less clarity than one would suppose. Were my past
actions just the influence of this disorder? What about my feelings? What about the
future? What kind of help can I get in the future?
This is the story that I am going to try to write. I’m not much of a storyteller, but
maybe my story will be a little easier.
My life fell apart on May 29, 2011. After a huge fight with pretty much my whole
family, I rushed off in my car, spending all Sunday night and most of Monday away
from home. Sound like something a teenager would threaten to do? And yet, I’m no
longer a teenager. The confusion is all permeating… while I have gotten this angry in
the past, I never had the means to actually make good on my threats, and have
thereby calmed down faster. Also, these attacks have rarely been so out of control.
With a little music, a good book, and hot tea, my moods could readjust to normal, but it
seems that this does not help any longer.
Mom finally calls me, and I return home, where I cry and shower and sleep, not
necessarily in that order. Mom and I sit down, eventually, and she tells me what she
has been suspecting for a while: that I have bipolar disorder. My aunt’s husband also
has it, much worse than I do, and she recognized the signs, finally. At last, we had all
the clues, and my strange mood swings, which had been credited to immaturity, anger
management, or some kind of disease, now have their own name.
But how do I continue? Literally all of my plans have been overturned: I was
going to school for History, and trying to do it as cheaply as possible, so that I could
become a Dominican nun. With depression, I have too great and lasting an impediment
for that life, and my whole future falls apart. Will I become a teacher, a mom, an
actress, a writer, or (E) All of the above? I had so many fantasies, that I used to
daydream about; but now, these fantasies are suddenly more possible than ever, and
I can’t choose. Now I can afford to go to a better school after I transfer, because I’m
not so worried about loans and payments. But do I go visit other countries, like I’ve
always wanted to? Learn new languages? The book “Eat, Pray, Love” recently inspired
me: not Gilbert’s personal story, but the idea of travel to different countries, learning
languages, making friends. Maybe I can act: maybe this is my new dream, my new
future. What about the past? My wanting to be a Dominican was emphasized by my
ability to teach and my love for children. Can I become a wife and mother? Can I live
up to the high standards that I set?
My story is confusing, impossible to understand, not even much of a story. What
has it been? What will it become? I, and no one else, need to figure this out, and will,
soon, but right now, I just continue, trying to live day by day, trying to stop analyzing
the past, trying to not worry about the future, and learning about myself, who I am, all
over again.

Here's the link to Part 2.