My last mental breakdown.
Hello to anyone reading this. I was told that writing a journal can help. I haven't done a journal entry in the longest time. I need to write, not only to help myself psychologically, but to let others know what has been going on with me. To those who have been close to me, either in proximity and in heart, I've been pretty distant lately, and I've been a mess. In case anyone reading this doesn't already know, I am diagnosed with both Bipolar Disorder and Borderline Personality Disorder. When I was a little kid, I was misdiagnosed as having Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. I do not have ADHD at all, but I am bipolar and borderline personality instead. I only found out about the Bipolar Disorder when I was about 19 or 20. I found out about the Borderline Personality Disorder just recently, within the last 6 months. I was put on so many medications for this supposed ADHD diagnosis, which I didn't even have. I was put on anti-depressants and medications to help me focus, which I didn't need. Anyone who knows anything about bipolar disorder knows that if you put them on an upper or a downer, they will get incredibly unbalanced, and that's dangerous. I don't remember how many times I considered suicide as a kid, because I was unbalanced one way or the other. I felt trapped in my head. I felt trapped because I took all these medications that I knew were messing me up, but didn't have the choice not to take. Until I turned 18 and could decide on my own what to take or not, I was stuck taking medication that I knew put me at risk. The thing about that is until I turned 18, I didn't have the choice or power to decide what to do about my mental health. It was all decided for me, and they only cared what worked for them. They didn't listen to my pleas to be understood. They didn't listen to me when I told them I wanted off all the medications. I was stuck, and I was very suicidal. Until high school, I didn't have any friends. I am not exaggerating either. No friends, no one was there to understand me. I was so alone, I wanted to die. I even tried to commit suicide when I was 12 years old, by trying to slit my wrists. I didn't know how to do it to kill myself because I was still 12 and naive, so I am still alive. I still find it astounding that I haven't killed myself, because every single day when I was a kid, I thought about it, and pleaded for an accident in my head so I wouldn't have to do it myself, but I am still alive.
When I was in high school, I found some friends finally, some of whom are still my friends. This was such a help to me in high school. I finally had people to understand me. Especially my friend Brian Diaz. This was a great help. When I turned 18, I got off all my medications, because I couldn't take it anymore. The initial moments of the time off the medications were great. It was such a relief, and I felt like I could stand to live. This didn't last too long though, and I ended up having to seek help because I wasn't able to handle the new-found freedom of mine, and having to get new friends since most of mine left Sacramento for greener pastures. I felt alone again. I couldn't stand it. I made new friends which were a help for a while, but my mental state was trashed when my uncle evicted us out of the house we had been living in for 9 years. My gramma thought that she was going to be able to die in that house, and that she wouldn't have to worry anymore about a place to live. This shock of having her home taken away from her was what I believed put her in the hospital and later the nursing home. I didn't take the lack of my gramma very well. She was pretty much my mother figure growing up, and I was lost without her. I had a mental breakdown, drove some friends away, and had to figure out how to live without these supports. I had a few suicide attempts because I couldn't handle life back then. I finally got on some medications that helped, and tried getting myself back up on my feet. I got a crappy McDonald's job which I barely made enough to survive on, but I persevered for 1 year 11 months. I at that point lost my health coverage and had to get by on the state provided health care system. It was tough, but without it, I probably would have been dead.
Finally, I got a great state job, and my life started looking up. I moved out on my own, away from my family, who were keeping me mentally ill. I was doing much better. I finally got my Kaiser Health coverage back, and was getting the help I needed. Things were really doing well. The thing I didn't know, was it still wasn't enough. Too much damage had already been done to my psyche, and that I was far from recovered. I got off my medication because I thought that the stability in my life was enough to make me sane. My grandmother died 09-08-09, and after that, I tried to keep myself together, but it was too great of a loss. I have been trying to get my life back on track ever since. I got back on my medication, but it wasn't enough. On 9-8-10, the same date my grandmother died, my boyfriend, Lance's grandmother died. I was left to relive the loss once again, since I was at the hospital when she died. I went to two funerals in September. The one was the funeral I finally held myself for my grandmother, since no one else would. The other was with Lance's family to his grandmother's funeral. It was hell for me. I tried to trudge on, and live on, but it was hard. I had a hard time, but I eventually had a mental breakdown.
This latest mental breakdown of mine lasted 2 weeks. The first major panic attack I had during it was on 10-4-10. I started feeling really lonely and having feelings like no one wanted to be around me and the only way people speak to me is to get a hold of my boyfriend, which wasn't true. This panic attack got so bad that Lance got so worried that he had to grab a friend of ours that also has Bipolar disorder to calm me down, which lasted at least 2 hours. The Bipolar and the Borderline Personality Disorders set in full force. I couldn't handle life anymore. I felt like something broke inside me. I tried going about life as normal, but it wasn't working. The first week I could tell what was causing my panic attacks most likely. I had quite a few ones that we were able to nip in the bud. I got so bad, I called in sick on 10-6-10. I was still doing okay enough to call in sick, so I did. The second week I started to have more panic attacks that I could handle, and I sought out some emergency help. I ordered a book online that my bipolar friend suggested that helped her through her low times. I also went to a medication support group appointment on 10-12-10, so I could talk to my doctor and get myself some stronger medications since the ones I was on weren't working at all. I got an increase on one of my medications, and I got a new one. These medications aren't a sudden change. They have to get into your system before they start to work, which takes about a month. I then went to a regular Dr. Appointment on 10-13-10, and got some more help there. I had been waiting for about a week to get a hold of a therapist, who finally called me on 10-14-10, and made me an appointment for 10-19-10. This second week of my low time though, has been really unstable. I have been reacting to nothing. I'd get panic attacks and not know why. I'd start crying without anything to trigger it. It was hard to get out of bed. It was hard to sleep. It was hard for me to do daily tasks. I spent over a week without taking a shower, and without brushing my hair. I spent most of the time in a tank top and sweat pants, which began to stink. I couldn't do housekeeping for 2 weeks. I couldn't brush my teeth, and keep up basic hygiene. The littlest things set me off, even nothing would set me off. I couldn't judge when I would have an episode. Things got so bad, I had been considering suicide, and had the physical urge to do so. Luckily the urge to do nothing was stronger, and that I'm still alive. I'm starting to feel some better now. Today, I was able to do some basic hygiene, and my mother came over to help me do some housekeeping, since I desperately needed the help to do so. I was too depressed to clean, and my roommates were too busy to do so as well.
This past couple weeks have been really hard and painful mentally and emotionally. On 10-04-10, I just felt like something broke inside me and I'm trying to put myself back together. I feel myself getting better, but I still feel very fragile. I just feel like I can start living my life again. I have to be careful so this doesn't happen again. I could easily end up back like I was. I'm just hoping this upcoming therapy appointment helps, and the medication kicks in soon. I'll feel much better when they do. I can't handle trying to explain this more than once, so I'm writing it down, and I'll be able to lead people to this journal post when I need to. I'm sorry, I just can't bear bringing this back up right now. Anyone reading this, thanks for reading this. I appreciate it.
When I was in high school, I found some friends finally, some of whom are still my friends. This was such a help to me in high school. I finally had people to understand me. Especially my friend Brian Diaz. This was a great help. When I turned 18, I got off all my medications, because I couldn't take it anymore. The initial moments of the time off the medications were great. It was such a relief, and I felt like I could stand to live. This didn't last too long though, and I ended up having to seek help because I wasn't able to handle the new-found freedom of mine, and having to get new friends since most of mine left Sacramento for greener pastures. I felt alone again. I couldn't stand it. I made new friends which were a help for a while, but my mental state was trashed when my uncle evicted us out of the house we had been living in for 9 years. My gramma thought that she was going to be able to die in that house, and that she wouldn't have to worry anymore about a place to live. This shock of having her home taken away from her was what I believed put her in the hospital and later the nursing home. I didn't take the lack of my gramma very well. She was pretty much my mother figure growing up, and I was lost without her. I had a mental breakdown, drove some friends away, and had to figure out how to live without these supports. I had a few suicide attempts because I couldn't handle life back then. I finally got on some medications that helped, and tried getting myself back up on my feet. I got a crappy McDonald's job which I barely made enough to survive on, but I persevered for 1 year 11 months. I at that point lost my health coverage and had to get by on the state provided health care system. It was tough, but without it, I probably would have been dead.
Finally, I got a great state job, and my life started looking up. I moved out on my own, away from my family, who were keeping me mentally ill. I was doing much better. I finally got my Kaiser Health coverage back, and was getting the help I needed. Things were really doing well. The thing I didn't know, was it still wasn't enough. Too much damage had already been done to my psyche, and that I was far from recovered. I got off my medication because I thought that the stability in my life was enough to make me sane. My grandmother died 09-08-09, and after that, I tried to keep myself together, but it was too great of a loss. I have been trying to get my life back on track ever since. I got back on my medication, but it wasn't enough. On 9-8-10, the same date my grandmother died, my boyfriend, Lance's grandmother died. I was left to relive the loss once again, since I was at the hospital when she died. I went to two funerals in September. The one was the funeral I finally held myself for my grandmother, since no one else would. The other was with Lance's family to his grandmother's funeral. It was hell for me. I tried to trudge on, and live on, but it was hard. I had a hard time, but I eventually had a mental breakdown.
This latest mental breakdown of mine lasted 2 weeks. The first major panic attack I had during it was on 10-4-10. I started feeling really lonely and having feelings like no one wanted to be around me and the only way people speak to me is to get a hold of my boyfriend, which wasn't true. This panic attack got so bad that Lance got so worried that he had to grab a friend of ours that also has Bipolar disorder to calm me down, which lasted at least 2 hours. The Bipolar and the Borderline Personality Disorders set in full force. I couldn't handle life anymore. I felt like something broke inside me. I tried going about life as normal, but it wasn't working. The first week I could tell what was causing my panic attacks most likely. I had quite a few ones that we were able to nip in the bud. I got so bad, I called in sick on 10-6-10. I was still doing okay enough to call in sick, so I did. The second week I started to have more panic attacks that I could handle, and I sought out some emergency help. I ordered a book online that my bipolar friend suggested that helped her through her low times. I also went to a medication support group appointment on 10-12-10, so I could talk to my doctor and get myself some stronger medications since the ones I was on weren't working at all. I got an increase on one of my medications, and I got a new one. These medications aren't a sudden change. They have to get into your system before they start to work, which takes about a month. I then went to a regular Dr. Appointment on 10-13-10, and got some more help there. I had been waiting for about a week to get a hold of a therapist, who finally called me on 10-14-10, and made me an appointment for 10-19-10. This second week of my low time though, has been really unstable. I have been reacting to nothing. I'd get panic attacks and not know why. I'd start crying without anything to trigger it. It was hard to get out of bed. It was hard to sleep. It was hard for me to do daily tasks. I spent over a week without taking a shower, and without brushing my hair. I spent most of the time in a tank top and sweat pants, which began to stink. I couldn't do housekeeping for 2 weeks. I couldn't brush my teeth, and keep up basic hygiene. The littlest things set me off, even nothing would set me off. I couldn't judge when I would have an episode. Things got so bad, I had been considering suicide, and had the physical urge to do so. Luckily the urge to do nothing was stronger, and that I'm still alive. I'm starting to feel some better now. Today, I was able to do some basic hygiene, and my mother came over to help me do some housekeeping, since I desperately needed the help to do so. I was too depressed to clean, and my roommates were too busy to do so as well.
This past couple weeks have been really hard and painful mentally and emotionally. On 10-04-10, I just felt like something broke inside me and I'm trying to put myself back together. I feel myself getting better, but I still feel very fragile. I just feel like I can start living my life again. I have to be careful so this doesn't happen again. I could easily end up back like I was. I'm just hoping this upcoming therapy appointment helps, and the medication kicks in soon. I'll feel much better when they do. I can't handle trying to explain this more than once, so I'm writing it down, and I'll be able to lead people to this journal post when I need to. I'm sorry, I just can't bear bringing this back up right now. Anyone reading this, thanks for reading this. I appreciate it.