Mary 
Time to face my illness

I am 53 and have just been diagnosed with bipolar disorder.  I am not frightened or upset about this diagnosis, because I knew there was something wrong for years.  I have suffered depression since my 20’s and always thought the highs were normal because I was high-strung like my father.  And I was very creative during the highs. I have written two short books and many songs and I play a musical instrument.

My doctor told me this week that the medication I have been taking for over 10 years was actually worsening the highs of bipolar disorder.  What a shock! 

The turning point for me was last September when I tried to return to work.  I was so happy to be back at work, I felt a little high but I thought it was because I loved my job and the staff.  I noticed when I walked to the car at the end of the day that I felt a bit shaky and light headed, which worsened as I drove home.  I felt like I had an accelerator in me and someone was pushing it - just like a car.  I could feel the adrenaline rushing in me.  My tongue was tingling and I started talking, telling myself, it’s ok, it’s ok… I’ll be ok when I get home.

But it got worse.  I couldn’t stop talking to myself, very fast, and I couldn’t believe how the words came to me so quickly.  The ideas were flashing through my mind.  The next phase was worse: I felt that I was about to do something irrational.  I knew I had reached a point of losing control.  I immediately called the Mental Health clinic and the nurse gave me instructions to walk outside and burn off some of the energy, then drink some chamomile tea and call her back if things didn’t improve.  I was calm about five or six hours later.

I had never experienced anything like that in my life.  I didn’t go back to the clinic (typical of me - poor self-care).  I had another episode two months later.  I didn’t recognize it at the time.  But now I know.  I met a man at church and within hours I decided I was in love with him, and he was the one.  I was totally overcome by feelings of desire and longing.  It lasted about two days.  When it was over I realized something was wrong, but I tried to forget about it.

Just after Christmas I did some volunteer work and worked as many hours as I could. I didn’t want to face the depression I was feeling at the time (another coping mechanism of mine - keeping busy).  But I fell into a heap at the end of it all.  Right now I am having numerous anxiety attacks each day and just barely functioning.  On Monday I start the new medication and I’m looking forward to some relief.

I read so many stories on this web site where so many suffered because of an incorrect diagnosis.  I just never told my doctor about the manic times.  They seemed irrelevant.  I thought they were just a normal reaction to coming out of depression.  I dread the highs now, because I get physically ill and my rheumatoid arthritis is greatly aggravated.

I left my church a few months ago because I believe it was feeding my manic episodes. When I get better I may look for a quiet church.  I don’t know.  When I asked for help with mental health matters, nobody really gave me advice I could use.  I feel hurt and let down. 

I want to be stable, and to celebrate my life.  So many years I have struggled in the dark.  I believe that God does care about me, and this was my time to face my illness.  I was so afraid of mental illness – if I had found out years ago, I don’t think I would have coped as well.