My story begins at the age of 16 or 17. I always knew that there was something not quite right within myself as things did not seem ‘perfect’. My mind was racing and I would need to seek out a quiet place, close my eyes and focus on something. I never spoke of these racing thoughts. I plugged along until I moved out to the West Coast to be with my new man. I realized that I was having manic episodes; getting so angry that I had to walk away. Then I would punish myself for getting angry.
At this point, I decided to get some help from my family doctor (GP) who put me on an antidepressant. This medication took the edge off until I got pregnant with my first daughter and I went off the medications altogether.
Despair and Struggle with my Mental Health Journey
I was diagnosed with postpartum depression after she was born and never was able to get treated with any other meds and was pregnant with my second daughter 10 months later. After the birth of my 2nd daughter I went off the deep end and there seemed to be no saving me and bringing me back to reality. I was not harmful to my babies, but I was in the deepest despair and turned reclusive with them.
I reached out at this time and went to see a counselor – she was an Angel. She got me into a postpartum group with other new Moms and this helped tremendously. Everything seemed rosy now and I could conquer the world.
Over the course of the next 3 years I was put on 4 different antidepressants but none of them seemed to work. When my father passed away I hit an all-time low and this scared my husband. I was prescribed new medication which seemed to help. I continued to take this medication for 6 years not realizing I was not supposed to be taking it, or any of the other antidepressants that were continually being prescribed to basically ‘shut me up’ and send me on my merry way.
How Love Brought Hope
My husband watched me get deeper and deeper into this abyss. He took me out one sunny day and had an intervention with me. I was shocked and saddened that this person he was describing was actually me. I promised him that I would go to a doctor and finally confess that, yes, I was feeling suicidal along with those EXTREME highs and EXTREME lows. He scheduled a telephone consult with Mental Health and from there they got me in to see a Psychiatrist.
I was finally diagnosed with Bipolar II Disorder and was told that antidepressants would do NOTHING for me and was FINALLY prescribed the correct medication. It has been just over a year taking this and I still have my highs and lows, but they are so much easier to handle for both myself and my family. I am now at the point in my life that I am not ashamed to tell people my story and realize that I am not alone.
This diagnosis does not define me as a person.
Theresa, An Amazing Bipolar Babe