Never Normal

Fast forward about twenty two years and I am now sitting in a psychiatrist's office, wondering why I cant seem to manage my life. I was eleven at the time of the "stick-up" incident, and here I am 33 years old and realizing this memory is surfacing from the deep dark under-belly of my mind. It was not only this memory, but the many instances of bullying and abuse I received at home and at school. This is why at 33 I always felt bullied, by everyone. Constructive criticism was bullying to me. Disagreeing with my opinion was bullying. I was the constant victim in life. It was the world against me. I had a problem with everyone and everything. No matter where I went in life, someone was sure to be talking about me. Leaving a room full of people was torture. I just knew they were laughing at me. I also developed an obsession with colognes and perfumes. Obviously it did not take a Ph.D to explain to me where this obsession stemmed from. As an adult, no one would ever laugh at me again for having some sort of odor. 33 was the year of change. I no longer wanted to be held captive by the chains of abuse and bullying. My father, those fuckin kids, no one was going to keep me down any longer. BAM! The psychiatrist says, "you have post-traumatic stress disorder stemming from your childhood and your upbringing and you suffer from Bi-Polar Disorder." What the hell? Will I ever be friggin normal?