(no subject)
Ok, so real quick, a short history of my mental illness.
When I was 15 I tried to kill myself. Well, let me refrase. When I was 15 I got caught trying to kill myself. It wasn't the only consideration/attempt, but it was the first (and last) time I was taken to a mental hospital and treated properly. After a week in the instituion, I was court ordered to undergo therapy. I saw at least a half-a-dozen therapist before we were just tired of looking (we being me and my family) and gave up and settled on one. He turned out to be quite the quack. He told me I had the symptoms of Manic Depressive disorder (though never truly diagnosed me) and put me on an anti depressent. When this medicine caused an increase in suicidal thoughts, he put me on lithium. LHe explaned to me that Manic Depressive disorder was a milder version of bipolar disorder (it is NOT) and told me that lithium is a mood balancing drug, and that it would help. And it did. Until I lost my medical coverage 2 years later, everything was peachy.
I have now been living without therapy or medication for 5, almost 6 years, and everday is a struggle. I feel isolated and worthless because my family and some of my friends don't understand what I am going through, or think that there is no such thing as mental illness, I merely need to "get right with god". Recently, as my symptoms have increased and worsened, I have been doing some of my own researh about Manic Depressive disorder, which I learned is NOT a lesser form of bipolar disorder! It is what they used to call bipolar disorder! It is the same damn disease.
Onto the good news!
Last night, after my tear filled post, I started to have a massive anxiety attack. So incredibly terrible that I could not contain my screams of agony and twitching muscles. This in turn woke up Anthony. At first he seemed upset to have been awoke, but after seeing me, he calmed down significantly. We talked, for hours, about what I was feeling and why I was miserable. I expllained how I sometimes can not help what I am feeling, even when those feelings make no sense or have no reason, and that his actions only worsened things. He swore he had no idea that bipolar disorder could have that kind of affect on a person, and talked me down from my anxiety attack, held me in his arms and cried and appologized for his behavior. Then he got online and started doing research about the disease, and looked at a bunch of websites designed for people living with someone who has the disease. He stayed up all night and went to work with very little sleep, then came home tired and exhausted but loving and effectionate, which really made me believe that he didn't realize he was hurting me so bad. I really don't thin he knew. He was just angry because he didn't understand, but now that he is starting to, its easier for him to watch what he says and does. We had dinner, talked about the oldest child going into daycare (and he listened to my ideas and opinions) and then I let him go to bed early because he was exhausted. It;s funny how a little bit of information can make a world of difference.
He wants to find a bipolar and family of bipolar support group, until I am on his insurance and we can go to REAL therapy. Now that he knows whats going on, he is making an honest effort to understand and support me. He is trying... and that means more to me than anything else.
When I was 15 I tried to kill myself. Well, let me refrase. When I was 15 I got caught trying to kill myself. It wasn't the only consideration/attempt, but it was the first (and last) time I was taken to a mental hospital and treated properly. After a week in the instituion, I was court ordered to undergo therapy. I saw at least a half-a-dozen therapist before we were just tired of looking (we being me and my family) and gave up and settled on one. He turned out to be quite the quack. He told me I had the symptoms of Manic Depressive disorder (though never truly diagnosed me) and put me on an anti depressent. When this medicine caused an increase in suicidal thoughts, he put me on lithium. LHe explaned to me that Manic Depressive disorder was a milder version of bipolar disorder (it is NOT) and told me that lithium is a mood balancing drug, and that it would help. And it did. Until I lost my medical coverage 2 years later, everything was peachy.
I have now been living without therapy or medication for 5, almost 6 years, and everday is a struggle. I feel isolated and worthless because my family and some of my friends don't understand what I am going through, or think that there is no such thing as mental illness, I merely need to "get right with god". Recently, as my symptoms have increased and worsened, I have been doing some of my own researh about Manic Depressive disorder, which I learned is NOT a lesser form of bipolar disorder! It is what they used to call bipolar disorder! It is the same damn disease.
Onto the good news!
Last night, after my tear filled post, I started to have a massive anxiety attack. So incredibly terrible that I could not contain my screams of agony and twitching muscles. This in turn woke up Anthony. At first he seemed upset to have been awoke, but after seeing me, he calmed down significantly. We talked, for hours, about what I was feeling and why I was miserable. I expllained how I sometimes can not help what I am feeling, even when those feelings make no sense or have no reason, and that his actions only worsened things. He swore he had no idea that bipolar disorder could have that kind of affect on a person, and talked me down from my anxiety attack, held me in his arms and cried and appologized for his behavior. Then he got online and started doing research about the disease, and looked at a bunch of websites designed for people living with someone who has the disease. He stayed up all night and went to work with very little sleep, then came home tired and exhausted but loving and effectionate, which really made me believe that he didn't realize he was hurting me so bad. I really don't thin he knew. He was just angry because he didn't understand, but now that he is starting to, its easier for him to watch what he says and does. We had dinner, talked about the oldest child going into daycare (and he listened to my ideas and opinions) and then I let him go to bed early because he was exhausted. It;s funny how a little bit of information can make a world of difference.
He wants to find a bipolar and family of bipolar support group, until I am on his insurance and we can go to REAL therapy. Now that he knows whats going on, he is making an honest effort to understand and support me. He is trying... and that means more to me than anything else.