Page 56 of Score
She pauses, levels a clear-eyed look at me, before going on.
“With that said, based on the information so far, your symptoms and behaviors appear to meet criteria for bipolar disorder.”
The words, the diagnosis, land on me like an anvil. The air is knocked out of me and my head begins throbbing immediately. I can’t process what she’s saying.
“No.” I shake my head. “I… no. That can’t be right.”
“Just hear Dr. Simmons out, baby,” Aunt Roz says, rubbing the back of my hand soothingly.
“Your aunts tell me you had a depressive episode last year when you were away at college,” Dr. Simmons continues.
“An episode?” I frown. “I wouldn’t call it that. It was just… a hard time.”
“It sounded like you were extremely fatigued, stopped going to class,” Dr. Simmons says, her expression neutral. “And had suicidal thoughts.”
My gaze pings between my aunts in silent accusation.
“We were just trying to help,” Aunt Grace rushes to say. “They asked us questions so we could figure out what might be going on.”
“When you started taking the antidepressant,” Dr. Simmons says, “your mood improved, correct?”
“Yeah,” I admit grudgingly. “And I’ve been fine for the last few months. I thought I was ready to start over, but I guess I wasn’t.”
“I believe that particular medication addressed your symptoms of depression,” Dr. Simmons continues. “But I’ve started something more appropriate for bipolar—if that’s what we’re dealing with—and you’ve stabilized some. Bipolar is cyclical, and usually someone cycles between depressive episodes to a period of stability we call euthymia or hypomania and then to mania.”
“And you think what just happened to me was a manic episode?” I laugh because… no way, but Aunt Grace and Aunt Roz exchange another of those quick looks, which makes me nervous.
“You’re the right age,” Dr. Simmons goes on, as if unfazed by my disbelief. “Your aunts mentioned some behaviors when you were younger that might indicate—”
“Behaviors?” I snap my eyes from one aunt to the other. “What kind of behaviors when I was younger?”
“It could be nothing,” Dr. Simmons says. “Having an imaginary friend is a common thing, but yours maybe lasted a little longer than most. Theyalso indicated a reckless phase where you thought you could fly and broke your arm.”
“All kids think they can fly at some point,” I protest. “And have imaginary friends.”
“Of course, baby,” Aunt Grace says. “We’re trying to find any clues that can help us understand what’s going on, so we told her as much as we could remember.”
“We just want to help,” Aunt Roz adds gently.
“Having more information,” Dr. Simmons says, “is always better than having less. Your aunts simply answered the questions we always ask in cases like these.”
I’ve gone from being myself to being a “case.”
“Most people have their first manic episode late teens, early twenties,” Dr. Simmons continues. “It can be triggered by any number of things. Stress, lack of sleep.”
“Lack of sleep?” I ask weakly.
For weeks Monk chided me about not sleeping, needing rest, taking better care of myself. I thought he was overreacting, but maybe…
“Because the doctor didn’t consider you might have bipolar,” Dr. Simmons says, “he prescribed an antidepressant, but that can sometimes exacerbate mania. And since there wasn’t anything prescribed to address the mania when it came on, you may have gone into a full manic episode.”
“What’s that look like, Dr. Simmons?” Aunt Roz asks. “Maybe if you share some of what you were telling us about it…”
I look from Aunt Roz to Dr. Simmons, feeling like everyone knows what’s going on except me.
“Manic episodes can sneak up on you,” Dr. Simmons explains. “Because there is this window of time where you feel like a million bucks.”
“What do you mean?” I ask warily.
