I am not trying to play the blame
game, but my mental health negatively affected my academics more than I would
like to admit. My academics suffered along with my mind up until the day that I
was diagnosed with Bipolar II disorder. I always attributed my depressive moods
with the fact that I had moved away from my family to college. I was only three
hours away from home, but the inability to drive and the strong bond between my
family and I made it seem much farther away. I was the first in my family to
venture off to pursue a bachelor’s degree. Being first generation made the transition
that much harder. I began to fall behind in classes from lack of energy and
motivation due to the depressing feeling of isolation. To cure the depression I
was experiencing, I decided to move back home to Houston and enrolled at the
University of Houston. Once classes started up I noticed I was not doing any
better than I was in San Antonio. My sister suggested I get a consultation from
a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist diagnosed me with major depression and
prescribed me medication to help my low moods. Even after this I had episodes
of severe depression that again disabled my ability to do well in school.
Despite battling my mental illness I was able to pass all of my classes after
long hours of studying and visits with professors and tutors. Before my last
semester as an undergrad I revisited a psychiatrist to see if I could get more
help. It was then that I was diagnosed with Bipolar II disorder. After I
started treatment for my diagnosis I was focused and motivated. In my last
semester I was able to achieve a grade point average of a 3.77 while managing
to pass two upper level biochemistry classes with A’s. My mental illness is not
to blame for my poor grades but it is a factor that greatly affected the start
of my academic career.
i I don't even know anymore. Who am i? Is it even worth capitalizing that i? Am i even that important? I never had to talk about it until today.. It was hard. No one has ever asked me. "Why did you try it?" It's not me, honestly. I can feel myself leave. I'm in a fog. It comes over me without a warning. And with it comes tears. And more tears. I hate it. "You're just trying to escape?" "Yeah.. that's why I sleep so much. I don't cry when I'm asleep."
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