I got the nickname "Queenie" because I was the oldest of seven; they said I bossed them around. I literally made the nickname stick after being crowned Homecoming Queen. To this day, I still don't believe that happened, because I was terrified of people. I was sweet and nice to everyone but wore this mask to hide my illnesses. I had them all fooled.
Although I didn't know it for most of my life, I have bipolar disorder with psychosis, adult ADHD, panic disorder with agoraphobia (housebound), PTSD and social anxiety disorder. I also have hypothyroidism and I'm postmenopausal (finished menopause in my early thirties), both of which contributed to my mental health condition. Getting diagnosed, when I had so many things going on, was a nightmare.
What is Crazy, Anyway?
People don't believe that I'm mentally ill because I don't look crazy! They just haven't seen me during one of my rages, looking like a raving lunatic. I've been able to hide it well by wearing a mask for many years. (I should get an Oscar for best actress.) But it's a role that became harder for me to play the older I got. I became more and more emotional.For a long time I gave an all-star performance in the Army, where at all costs you must show no sign of weakness. So I would go to work, wearing my armor, then come home and fall apart. But after 18 years in the Army, the stress became too much, and on my doctor's orders I had to go into the inactive reserve.
I've lived a life of utter chaos, on a constant emotional roller coaster - or a recurring a train wreck. I've been homeless a few times. I would go through fits of rage. I came close to physically abusing my daughter. I've actually lost it to a point where I've floored my car from 0 to 60 down alleys and streets. I've put my fist through walls and doors, kicked in my car door so hard with my combat boot that it looked like my car was wrecked. I hit a filing cabinet so hard that I almost broke my hand.
Once, when I was angry at my boyfriend, I drank a whole bottle of cheap liquor, then drove on the freeway to his house with my daughter in the car. I was so drunk I was swerving all over the road. Cars were honking, but I kept going. I had it out with my boyfriend, then drove back home the same way. It was by the grace of God that we made it home safe. (Who knew angels flew so low?) And when I went through my crack phase, I came close to buying it with my daughter in the car. These are good examples of how mania can impair judgment.
I would go out binge drinking, black-out, and have to be dragged home. Not a pretty sight, and unfortunately my daughter saw me like that a few times. I also tried cocaine, weed, mixed pills with alcohol - you name it, and I've tried it (except intravenous drugs). I would do anything to kill the pain of depression and to help lessen the mania so I could sleep, because I would be so amped up for no apparent reason.
I was always a high-strung, successful workaholic. At every job I felt I was Superwoman - and for many years I was. I would go through spells where I felt vibrant and vivacious with people, on top of the world. But then I'd come crashing down, going into suicidal depressions and literally hiding from people by retreating to my bedroom or home. I became agoraphobic (housebound). I wouldn't go out for anything but groceries and necessities. If I had to work, I was quiet and would race home after work. The black cloud was suffocating me. I hit rock bottom. Part of the reason things got so bad had to do with hormones. I later realized a part of those mood swings were based on my menstrual cycle, triggered by my hormones, which compounded the bipolar disorder.
Trying to hide manic depression is like trying to force a beach ball under water. In the last ten years, the depression hit an all-time low. Suicide was always on my mind, but I was too chicken to follow through with it. For me, suicidal thoughts became as automatic as breathing. The fact that I have a child was the only thing that kept me grounded.
When I was treated psychiatrically, it was usually for major depression. The doctors would prescribe antidepressants, which would trigger mania. And there was one time when I was given a decongestant for sinusitis and allergies. The medication had an amphetamine in it which triggered a manic episode.
In a doctor's office one time I suddenly heard gangster voices and almost ran out of the office. Once when I was driving on the freeway I saw the freeway rolling up towards me, about to swallow me. Paranoia affected my judgment severely, and caused me to alienate everyone.
Doctors Wouldn't Listen
I figured out all of my illnesses on my own, mainly through medical books. Doctors wouldn't listen. I set up an appointment with a doctor for a complete physical to rule out any medical factors. He asked me questions, and because I was seeing a psychiatrist, he just told me to continue on with him. He wasn't even going to draw blood from me. Well, after much reading, I'd found that a lot of my physical and mental symptoms matched hypothyroidism, which requires a special blood test, as it doesn't show up in regular blood work. I insisted on having the test done and was diagnosed with Hashimoto's Thyroiditis (hypothyroidism, an underactive thyroid). I started medication for it. One year later I my thyroid levels were stabilized - but I was still having mental and physical problems.Next, I asked my gynecologist to check my estrogen and progesterone levels. I was absolutely shocked at the outcome. My doctor diagnosed me as postmenopausal at age 37, which meant no more kids. That knocked the wind out of me. I thought I would have at least one more child. He said you can go through menopause over the span of 10 years. It's possible that I started in my 20's. That, too, explained some more of the rollercoaster ride I'd been on.
Since I still wasn't getting better, and thinking I was overmedicated, I went off all medications for eight months. That landed me in the psych ward. My thyroid was through the roof and I was at my worst with bipolar disorder (although I wasn't yet diagnosed with it). That was a horrific experience. My doctor didn't look at my patient history and didn't listen to me. Since I'd just lost my fiancé to leukemia two months earlier, he diagnosed me with situational depression. I was actually in the depressed phase of bipolar disorder. He might have diagnosed me differently if he had read my history.
I think the doctors thought I was a hypochondriac and didn't know what to do with me. They put me in a program for substance abuse, but that wasn't the answer. I was battling a combination of mental and physical ailments, making it very difficult to make a clear-cut diagnosis, so I can't put full blame on the doctors. But what I needed was one good doctor who would take the time to really listen and help me sort it all out.
Breakthrough!
When I met such a doctor, it was a turning point for me. He recommended a digital EEG where they monitor your brain, then translate the data. It told me that my brain activity matched those who had manic depression and ADHD. I finally got confirmation of what I thought was my diagnosis all along! But the Veterans Affairs psychologist disregarded the DEEG results. [Guide's note: To date this technique has not been found to be a reliable diagnostic tool for bipolar disorder.]I finally found an excellent psychiatrist four years ago, and I thank God for him. He saved my life. I felt that after everything I'd been through, and still no answers, I'd suffered long enough. I decided that if this doctor couldn't help me, then my only resolution was to kill myself. I had a sure-fire plan to end my life with no chance of reviving me.
Much to my surprise, this doctor listened to my history, was supportive, and confirmed my diagnosis. Then together we worked out a prescription regimen for me, with the understanding that it could take time to find what worked for me, along with the proper dosages. That process is a total crap-shoot, purely trial and error, but my doctor and I persevered as a team. I went through 34 medications before we finally found the perfect treatment cocktail (combinations of medications). I am now stabilized on 5 medications.
I've been stable for two years now, and as a "high functioning bipolar," I'm ready to tackle school and change careers. I found the BVR (Bureau of Vocational Rehabilitation) to be just what I needed (I'm eligible since I'm on Social Security Disability). I'm getting a certificate in desktop publishing, which is a career that accommodates my limitations. The schools have disability services that work with my learning disabilities. This allows me to have a tutor and to have no limit on timed tests, and also affords me a quiet area for testing. I'm doing well in school and my dream is to start my own business.
I'm already blessed spiritually and have a very supportive and loving daughter. Now that I finally have proper treatment and have learned coping tools for my illnesses, I've metamorphosed into a strong and powerful woman. I'm starting over and I'm ready to conquer the world!
