| Hi, my name is Eyeore (yes,
like the donkey in Winnie the Pooh ;) I am 33 years old, have
been married to a wonderful man for 12 years, have two beautiful
children whom I am currently staying home with until I return
to a teaching position (H.S. behavior disorders, special education)
when my youngest heads off to school. Oh yeah, I was diagnosed
with bipolar II in the summer of 1991. I say that because it
is NOT the most important prevelant thing in my life, my family
and friends are. That is not to say I have always felt this way, my father was diagnosed "manic depressive" when I was young, and he is definitely textbook bp I, all manic, no depression hardly, grandiose thoughts, superiority etc. Quite frankly, though I loved him with all my heart, my father scared me when I was little because I never knew "who" he was going to be. Growing up with that (btw my father is stable now, thank god, he was very into stopping meds, "curing himself with God etc. before he finally decided that the people in his life were worth more than that feeling of being high.) I was terrified of being like him, and was in major denial when I started having symptoms. I too, was always a loner in school, mostly because I was involved in such major things at home, HS problems seemed trivial and not worth my attention. I didn't fit any of their molds, so I was generally ignored or made fun of, but I was in to much mental anguish to care. I am over it(High school), trust me :) Having read what little information available to us then, it was hardly surprising that shortly after my 24th birthday, I had a major manic episode when I gloriously flunked the last class I needed to graduate college, a corospondance math course. In my ultimate wisdom, I decided that my husband of almost 3 years would definitely not want to be married to a loser like me, and I quit my job, waited for him to go to work, and ran home to my brother's house, leaving a note absolving him of any blame as it was all my fault, and I was doing the generous thing to him, by leaving before he realized what a horrible mistake he had made by loving and marrying me. My brother met me at his door, having called hubby and trying to make sense of the muddled message I had left on his machine, and he said to me "your husband loves you, you are always welcome here, but you two need each other, you have a problem and we both know what it probably is, tomorrow morning go home to your husband, and you can deal with it together." Long story short, I went home and made an appointment with my very first pdoc. He was old, set in his ways, diagnosed me on the basis of my father's illness, and tried to give me lithium. I refused, on the grounds that my dad was severely overmedicated on lith, and I didn't want it, I wanted to explore other avenues (it was the last time until recently that I ever stood up to a pdoc, now I know I should have been participating in my therapy, not just telling them what I thought they wanted to hear, and blindly taking whatever they gave me). I went along for years like this, mostly depressed, sometimes hypomanic, and not really dealing with it, except to take my meds, and go to my pdoc. In 1995, my sister was diagnosed, my mother and older brother died within two weeks of each other, and I was pregnant and off all meds. This terrible period of my life made me stronger, and also made me think a bit more about how i was handling this disease. I had a severe manic episode after my son was born, and finally consented to try the lith. It worked for several years, up until early last year (99), when I became depressed, lethargic, gained weight, and generally didn't want to do anything or go anywhere. My doctor at the time dismissed my feelings, said lith was the best choice, and I never brought it up with him again. In April of this year, we moved to Mississippi, I found this and other sites on the internet that really opened my eyes that I was not alone, and I should demand to be heard. Fortunately, my new primary physician referred me to a pdoc who actually listened to my complaints, gauged what was going on in my life, and prescribed some new meds that have made an incredible difference in my life. I am happy, I am motivated to do stuff, I am exercising again, and my outlook and feelings about my life have not been this good since before I began experiencing symptoms in 1989. Anyway, here I am, the reader's digest condensed version of my life. It was very hard for me to write, because I have not thought about it for some time (repressing it I guess) so looking back, it is decidedly sketchy, barely skimming the depth of despair I sunk into. But in order to relate it to you, I had to make it simple, or I would never have done it. Welcome to ASL : ) it is the best thing to happen to me with this disease in my whole life as a bp, daughter and sister of a bp, the support and friendship and understanding I have found here is priceless. I hope you find it the same. Peace Eyeore |
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