Hi everyone, this is my first post and sorry if it's a long one. Thanks to everyone for listening, cause I've just needed to get this out.

My name is E.K. (well not really), and I am 24 years old. I was diagnosed with Bipolar I Disorder two years ago, after a period of post-college unemployment and a brief hospitalization.

I have what I've told is a "mild to moderate" form of BP 1. For most of my life, I've been relatively normal. I've always been a high-acheiver, good at school with many friends and activities. I never experienced any serious depression or mania until after high school, nothing more than silly teenage angst.

I had my first manic episode when I was 18 and starting my second semester of college in New York City. I took a leave of absence when things started getting "weird" at school (I wasn't sleeping, my mind was racing, I felt like a live wire all the time. I couldn't stop talking, I couldn't focus, and I was missing classes. I felt suddenly mega-brilliant, as if I'd figured out the secret of all life). I went back home to stay with my parents and basically didn't leave the house for three months. During that time, I was briefly hospitalized and put on Abilify (I was severely depressed/immobile and delusional), yet somehow managed to escape diagnosis. I stopped the Abilify right after getting back from the hospital because it made me feel like hell.

Miraculously, I was fine by summer. Slightly depressed still, but I was perfectly sane, functional, fine. My marbles were back and I worked my regular summer job. I returned to college in the fall, made some incredible new friends, and the next few years of school went great. It took me a little while to shake the lingering depression, but I was otherwise normal and totally med-free.

I had my second manic episode in August of 2012, a year after graduation, and have been recovering from it ever since. Long story short, I felt myself spiraling after moving to NYC with very little money. I was having a hard time getting a job in my field (lots of interviews, lots of rejections), and felt myself spiraling. So I went to my doctor and she prescribed me Prozac. Five weeks later I was psychotically manic and in the hospital, where I was put on a few drugs before they settled on Risperdal and Lithium. I tapered off the Risperdal within a few months following a suicidal depression, but have been on stayed on Lithium (with one unsuccessful attempt to taper off it, under doctor's supervision). I've since moved back in with my parents in my hometown.

On Lithium, everything is not quite right. Not wrong, but not right - like all my drives for life are missing. I used to be a visual artist (and had every intention of pursuing it as a career), a writer, a photographer, a musician, everything. Now, I don't paint because it's about as much fun as doing taxes. Things that used to move and inspire me simply don't anymore, despite many tries (I spent a year pretending this wasn't the case).

The apathy is something I can't get used to. Even on my best days, I feel a little bit cranky and hungover. Every day seems the same, blending together like one long day. While I'm not miserable or in pain (and for that I'm extremely grateful), I just don't really care about...anything. Which is problematic.

The hardest thing about the diagnosis is how it has altered my perspective on life and myself. At 22, the story of my life suddenly changed. It's no longer about being young and having fun and "finding myself," it's about restoring basic sanity into my life. It's about finding my feet. I spend every day trying to feel like "me" again, and it's been the most difficult thing I've ever done. I still feel very far from the person I used to be.

Thank you for listening/reading, I appreciate it. I have so much respect for everyone on this forum, I feel I have it easy in comparison. Keep on keeping on.