So I know it's been a while since I've written anything real and honest for you guys, and I'm sorry about that. The thing is, I haven't been in the best place, mentally, to even begin to feel like I could hand out advice or help anyone really.
This summer, depression hit me pretty hard. I couldn't understand it, because life itself was going fairly decent. There was nothing situational about my depression, yet I couldn't shake off the funk and function like an adult, at all. I got pretty good at slapping on a fake smile and doing what I could to keep the kids happy, but I felt like an empty shell.
Sometime in July, I started having intrusive thoughts about suicide. It wasn't that I wanted to die, but I didn't see much point in living. Sure, the kids needed me - but wouldn't they be better off with someone who could do things with them, be present and happy in the moments? Didn't they deserve that much? While there weren't any attempts on my life made, I did understand the severity of the depression and the suicidal thoughts and decided to seek help.
I've dealt with depression for so many years; it almost seems synonymous with the lack of activity from the fibromyalgia. My general practitioner treated me with an SSNRI, claiming that it would help with the doom and gloom as well as the pain. It didn't. So we'd try another. I've cycled through a couple different medications, but the side effects always just seemed to make things worse. At the beginning of the summer, my doctor decided that I needed a "medication holiday" and that's when I realized that perhaps there was more going on with my mental health instead of simple depression.
Let me back up a little and talk about the side effects of the SSNRI. You see, when I was taking Effexor XR, I was always jittery and nervous and had massive amounts of energy. I would go days without sleeping, and while my body would get tired, it seemed like my mind was always in overdrive. I loved it because I thought that's what normal was supposed to feel like. It was so nice having the energy to do things!
But then after a couple of months, I would experience a crash and the depression would take back over. Everything would hurt and the headaches were enough to make me think I had a tumor or something horrendous going on. I'd make a new appointment, we'd go through another battery of tests, and then my doctor would decide to either switch me out to a different medication or increase my dose. This went on for a couple of years until she decided that I should stop taking them altogether.
That brings us back to this summer. I truly believed that if left alone, I wouldn't be able to keep myself from ending my life. Between the depression and the panic attacks, I stopped leaving the house, I cut myself off from most of the world. I hated me, and I hated everything around me. OK, maybe that's not fair of me - I love my kids, I was just so annoyed and tired that I didn't want to be around them. After a long discussion with my mom, many tears and long hours spent researching, I decided to reach out for help.
I set up an appointment with the local mental health services, knowing it was time to start taking meds again. They told me I would need a full psychological evaluation before they would be able to set me up with anyone who could prescribe medication. This meant an hour of questions regarding my thoughts, patterns, relationships, etc. Having been through this a few times before, I wasn't looking forward to it since I already knew what was wrong with me. But, if this was what I needed to be able to get back on meds to fix my brain, I agreed. They let me know it would be about a month before they could fit me into the schedule.
About a week before my appointment, I woke up feeling fantastic. I cleaned the whole house, called my mom, did a couple of projects with the kids, and started on a painting that I had been meaning to try out for a few months. It was great! But that night, I didn't sleep. I didn't think much of it, I had so much on my mind and so many things I wanted to get started on the next day. At about 2:00 in the morning, I was sitting at the computer researching some new something or another when I realized I didn't feel right. I felt exactly like I had when I started taking the Effexor. I was jittery and couldn't sit still, rapid thoughts were flying through my head faster than I could process what they were, and even though I was tired, I didn't feel like I needed sleep. This lasted for five days.
My appointment finally came around, and as I sat there answering all of the questions for the psych eval, I realized that this isn't the first time this has happened. She asked me if I ever take unnecessary risks - well, no because I worry too much about the consequences. But then as we talked more, I started to recognize the patterns of behavior even from when I was a teenager that may have been considered impulsive. Taking spontaneous road trips halfway across the country by myself, meeting men in person that I had only talked to online, starting projects with "grand illusions" (I've started college four times now, each with a different degree in mind)...
That's when I got my new diagnoses. Bipolar Disorder and Panic Disorder with Agoraphobia.
Bipolar disorder. Huh. Well, I guess every guy I've ever dated would probably agree with that. The more I've thought about it, the more it fits. The feelings of superiority, impulsiveness, and highly elevated mood followed by what feels like a crash - weeks of not wanting to get out of bed, suicidal thoughts, a heavy feeling of doom following me around.
I've had the diagnosis for about a month now, and I'm still coming to terms with it. I've started therapy and the doctor put me on an antipsychotic (Seroquel) although we may be adding a mood stabilizer as well at my next appointment. I'm starting to recognize thought patterns that lead to my spiraling, I'm trying to acknowledge that while I do have a mental disorder, I am in control.
In the next couple of days, I'm hoping to write a post for anyone who may be going through something similar to maybe help others come to terms with a bipolar diagnosis. Perhaps what questions to ask, what types of therapy and medications are out there, and how to keep track of moods and recognize cycles.
Meanwhile, if you have any questions or even a story to share, let me know in the comments. I've found that knowing I'm not alone in this is really helpful to keep me stable.
