Posted April 05, 2017
I'm bipolar, and whenever my parents call me I tell them I'm fine because it's easier that way. I'm not doing fine. For one I switched majors to economics, but I can tell the math is going to be overwhelming. To switch majors a second time would just be a waste of money and at that point I might as well drop out to avoid the debt. I went to a therapist for about a year and told my parents it was helping because that's what they wanted to hear, but in truth I never really got anything out of it. I've been deeply unsatisfied since I've had to drop out of Air Force ROTC due to my disorder, and running into old friends from it who are ready to commission has made it even worse. I'm convinced I'll be dead from suicide before I'm 30 (turning 22 this month), but once again it's easier to just say what my parents want to hear. My upper left arm is covered in scratches and cuts because, as cliche as it is, it helps. I'm just overall burned out and know I'm a failure. My brother is a math whiz and is going to become an astrophysicist, while meanwhile I'm the mentally ill member of the family. At least my screw up rebellious cousin managed to get married and join the National Guard. I'm more like my mentally unhinged great aunt who attempted suicide when she was young and made my WWII medic great grandfather cry for the first time in 20 years. In other words, I know I'll end up a disappointment if I'm not dead before that sets in.