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Out, Out

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My name is Jason, I'm 16, and I have bright brown hair. I was just at the hospital and the doctors diagnosed me with Bipolar Disorder. My life was changing very rapidly. It began on a late Saturday morning. I woke up and was really dizzy. Heaving heavily, I realized my inhaler was across the floor. I was sitting on the couch watching TV, in my old red apartment home when I was feeling very ill, tired and restless. My head began to hurt horribly and I started to wheeze. I got onto the floor and started to slowly crawl over to my dresser to get my inhaler. I probably looked like a baby on a mission to get one of the toys. I could feel my legs and parts of my body becoming numb. (The doctors had said I needed an inhaler because when people with bipolar disorder have manic episodes and depressive episodes they sometimes have trouble breathing and need air). At this moment I couldn't tell if it was reality or just my imagination playing tricks on me. I was half way to the dresser when I started to shake. I was having a manic episode. I couldn't move. I was locked into one spot. I looked to my right and then to my left and then I reached for my medications. I got them and quickly swallowed the right dosage. My mouth began to water as I could feel the pills sliding down my throat. My eyes slowly closed and I fell asleep. I was really drowsy and was feeling fatigue.

The next morning I got up and just wanted to just sit and cry for no reason, but I didn't because I didn't know what I would be crying about and it would be I figured that if anybody new t hat I was having suicidal thoughts they would send me to jail and I couldn't ever live a normal life again. I never will want my life to be like that. I looked at my nightstand next to my bed and picked up my morning medications and took the right dosage. I was feeling good and was happy. I walked out of my apartment in my pajamas and ran out to my friend Jerry's house. I got to his house in 15 minutes of running and collapsed on his doorstep. He must've heard my collapsing and wheezing because as soon as I was on his first doorstep I saw him through the window running towards me. He gave me a sorry face and picked me up and carried me inside. I only wanted to say hi to him. It's been a long time since I've seen him. He started talking to me about how far he is in college and how great it is. He made me kind of jealous since I never went to college and I'm not really planning to go to it either. I said to him, "well college sucks and I'm never going, college is for losers". I was getting mad because he was just going on and on about his life. I just wanted him to shut up, but no. He kept going on and was driving me crazy. My nerves were getting tangled and I just couldn't help to not yell. I ran out of his house in a hurry so I wouldn't end up killing him or doing some crazy thing. Jerry came chasing down the road after me and we just kept running for miles down the long dirt driveway. My life was horrible I was thinking "No job, no wife. No reason to live". I was thinking I should just move along in my life and at least try to get a job of some sort and maybe try to go to a college and fix my life, but I was scared. I didn't know what was going to come of me in a few years. I'm only 16. I ran faster, breathing heavily again and saw that Jerry was catching up to me. I kept on speeding up until I got home and locked the door on him. He kept punching the door and kicking it until he got tired and went home crying that his best friend hates him. I sat down on the hard kitchen floor thinking about relatives and therapists that could help me get better and on my feet again. I looked at the nearest clock and it said 12. I was supposed to take my medication



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