I woke up at 6 this morning and lounged until 6:30. Then I paid bills which is usually something my husband takes care of. I used to do it a long long time ago before my mental illness fully began taking over my life.
There are many things I used to do before my first serious case of severe clinical depression. I worked as a commercial graphic artist and art director for a book and magazine publishing company. I worked for five different newspapers, the last of which I filed a lawsuit against for discrimination when I was dismissed due to mental health issues which is against the law. The EEOC entered the matter and we settled out of court. It wasn't huge, it took a long time and the settlement in no way made up for the time and wages lost or the plummet of my self esteem. It was during this time that I went on disability.
My diagnoses are Bi-Polar Disorder, Posttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Dissociative Identity Disorder, and Borderline Personality traits. In college, which took in total took me 4 1/2 years to get a 2-year degree, I had a speech class wherein I spoke on Mental illness, having surveyed the class through a questionaire asking such things as, "do you think you could spot a person with a mental disorder within five minutes of talking to them?" Ninety five percent believed that they could. By the end of my speech I let them know that I had these illnesses, and not one of them had a clue of the life I was leading. It was like climbing mount Everest nearly every single day. But they were shocked.
I always had a dream to be a psychologist. But taking nearly five years to get an associate's degree...c'mon. Now I have opened that door of possibility. I am 47 years old however, going on to get a bachelor's, masters and then Ph.D....I don't know. How old would I be? If I were well, this is something that could be doable. I must get well. There are too many dreams to fulfill.
It has been a tough road, and all of it has been under medication and supervision of psychiatrists and psychologists. It is time to take my life back. At the rate I was going I was running out of options as far as medication treatments were concerned. I have learned though that there are stages of this treatment wherein I might wish I was totally overmedicated.
In stage one comes the decrease of most of the most serious symptoms such as rapid cycling, hearing voices or other hallucinations, toxicity or feeling of withdrawal or overmedicated.
Stage two doesn't sound too much better: this is where the participant is described as "waking up" only to find themselves facing their previous behaviors that appear embarrassing in retrospect. Marriage dynamics, guilt over previous acts, some face financial and family problems.
Maybe I'm trying to be all "Mary Sunshine" but I really want to wake up and smell the coffee. This stage is also described as a time when some would like to return to medication and possibly hospitalization due to the emotional upheaval.
Knowing what to expect gives me a heads up and something I can look at and see where I fit in these stages. I know I am a capable person. I feel I have been relocated to a second-class life standing due to my illnesses and ability to deal with these things with what the medical community has had to offer. I am so excited about this breakthrough which gives me hope.
When I come out on the other side, and my illness goes into "remission" I will revisit my goals and press forward.
A year of living like college students. Basically like living on nothing.
Peggy, You are right. I neve would have guessed it. Though, in my family we have Bipolar, depression, and schizophrinia.
ReplyDeleteI sometimes fear that my son is Bipolar. Am not sure cause he has been diagnosed so many things and has had so many problems in his life. And we are certainly not a perfect family. I feel with you and am glad that you are sharing with people.
Love, Pam Zeman