Well first I should
start off with introducing myself. My name is
Loren and I am almost 9 years old....in the light.
I was diagnosed back in Jan or so of 2001. I'm
really approaching 40 in actual years. But I
sometimes count only the "light" years, those that have
come since I was diagnosed.
It was a little scary to have that
label put on me, you know... "Mental Illness", but at
the same time is was such a huge relief to finally
understand or start to what was going on with me, and
most importantly, what was wrong. I
didn't have a magic wand that I waved, that caused a
doctor to give me a diagnosis at all. I wish it
had truely been that easy to do. But of course, as most
of life is, it wasn't that easy. It took me
hitting rock bottom, the very depth of my own personal
hell and a suicide attempt to get the help I so
desperately needed. It took a mixture of my best
friend and my employer calling paramedics and my parents
to advise there was a situation.
So began my journey with their arrival. Firemen
and paramedics arrived at my apt, luckily I had not
fallen into the farthest depths of hell. I had only
succeeded in making myself seriously sick. Thank
God. I had prayed the entire night about my
situation, I could even hear my mother that had passed a
good many years before that calling my name. And
of course the two wonderful cats I own, Sage and Nutmeg,
to help me through the night and to call for help.
So my apartment filled up with emergency personnel.
They wandered around to make sure everything was secure,
put me on a bed and took me out. They were kind
enough to lock my door for me. They were very kind and
sensitive men, and I appreciated their kindness more
than they will ever know. They took me to the
emergency room.
The emergency room was a hectic place like you can
imagine. I was taken into a big room and given
fluids to replenish my body after being sick all night.
And my parents came and they were very angry, I think
more because they were scared than anything. But I
can now imagine what they went through. A phone
call like that, your daughter may or may not be alive,
but she's in the emergency room. I feel so
terrible for what they both went through on that
morning. But I can say, my Dad and I are now
closer than we've ever been before.
I was removed from the emergency room and taken to the
City Mental Health Hospital and held over night. I
stayed the night there but in an office room with a bed
instead of being fully admitted. My parents stayed
the night with me then, my step-mom staying with me over
night in the room so I wouldn't be alone. I was
both terrified of being yelled at and thankful for her
presence with me at the same time. I know, weird
thoughts to have at the time, but I wasn't thinking too
much of myself at the time, but that I had scared my
parents, gotten them out of work and worried them, and
what would happen to me now?
Luckily for me, I served in the United States Navy and
was Honorably Discharged with a medical disability.
This entitled me to be transferred to the VA Hospital.
So the next morning I was again transferred by ambulance
to the VA. I was admitted into the Mental Health
Ward and stayed for almost 3 full weeks. There was
a lot of time I spend holed up in my room, given
medications and the daily visit by my psychiatrist.
It was uneventful. Then they found a medicine
combination that would work for me and I started
spending time in the tv room with the other patients on
my floor. And had visits by my Dad and my best
friend. And worked on myself in therapy and
crafts.
At the end of the stay, I was released in custody of my
father, and went home with him. This was a very
stressful time. Any time I had problems coping all the
doctors did was increase my medications. It got to the
point that I was just a "zombie" of a person. I was so
groggy and tired 24 hours a day and the nightmares were
horrible. This added lots of extra stress onto my
parents. And caused major family problems.
One day the doctor finally agreed to see me, my parents
and my sister. So off we went back to the VA
Hospital.
It was not a pleasant experience. My natural
mother had a mental illness along with alcoholism and
addiction to prescription drugs. She was dealing with
her own demons, but at this time I remember her
strongest advice. "Don't ever tell anyone that you
have problems because they will lock you up and throw
away the key". At this meeting, this would come
back to my mind as the strongest thought that day.
My parents and sister met with the doctor alone, and I
sat outside in a small waiting room. I do admit to
the paranoia that was going on at that time, why are
they meeting with out me? Why can't I listen to
something that concerns me the most of all? The
doctor came out to say that they were almost done and
then I was going to be put into a mental health home for
mentally ill people. My mom's advise roared
through my head! I was scared, terrified and angry that
I hadn't listened to my mom on this one point. And
it proved true. I was taken back to the meeting
and blew up. I was so hurt and fighting like a caged
animal. I was hysterical in my mind and did not
know where to go or even if I could trust anyone.
My step-mom came to me, it was actually to pick up her
purse from a chair but in my mind the panic had taken
over and I was shown images of her attacking me, I told
her if she touched me I'd kill her. She didn't
hear that, she heard the kill part loud and clear and
took it as a threat instead of me panicking. So it
caused a huge rift in my family and unfortunately to
this day my step-mom and I do not speak. I have
tried many times over the years to resolve this
situation but, it will never be resolved or she isn't
ready. I'm not sure which one.
I was in contact with an old Navy friend and talked to
him about the situation. He told me I could leave
Florida and come to Washington State to stay with him.
I said I'd like that but had no money and was even told
I'd never be able to work again for the rest of my life.
My friend said to come anyway and sent me the plane
ticket. So my Dad and I drove to the airport and
picked up my cats, Sage and Nutmeg on the way. I
boarded a plan and flew to Seattle. I was staying
with a friend and hoped for a much better chance here.
I was able to get enrolled into the Seattle Veteran's
Hospital right away and got a fabulous psychiatrist (pdoc)
and a wonderful therapist (tdoc). I started
therapy right away, and my PDoc took me off all the meds
first chance. What we did was try a few different
meds and some to help with my nightmares. Now it
wasn't as perfect and easy as that sounds. It took
many tries and lots of blood tests to find the right
drugs to work for me. But the nightmare meds were
perfect!
So many types of medications we found some that would
work, and I was on them for about 3 years and I started
working part-time! Then with lots of more therapy
I began to work full time also. That was a huge
milestone for me. That I learned a lot about my
illness and then was able to work and support myself.
I can't even describe the feeling that I had from that
alone. And I moved in and got my own apartment.
So Sage, Nutmeg and I moved into a new place for the
first time almost ever completely on my own.
We had to change the medications around for a few times
as my body adjusted and got used to what I was taken so
that it didn't work any more. I lost my wonderful
therapist to retirement and then my pdoc to another job
that she was wanting. So now there are a new pdoc
and tdoc that I have, and I'm getting used to them.
It will take time to get back to where I was at before
with these new people, but then it is the same with any
new relationship.
I've found an online support group, found
self-help therapy books and read other's stories about
this illness. And tons of therapy. And lots
of contact with my Dad and my friends, those that stayed
once they found out that I had a mental illness, helped
me through everything also. I couldn't do it with out
them.
Now off to the Present to read more, or you can go to
Links and get some great information on BiPolar
Disorder.
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