In February of this year I was diagnosed with Bipolar II Disorder.
That came after over a decade of battling depression. Bipolar came up a couple different times, but I was quick to shut it down. I was sad, but I wasn’t crazy! There was no way I was going to let someone tag me with a label like that.
It wasn’t until my third time going to the hospital that I found out there were different types of bipolar. And that one had ups that weren’t quite as up, and downs that lasted for seemingly forever.
I think by then I was finally ready to accept that bipolar wasn’t just a label either. It was a diagnosis of a real condition. And having that diagnosis could lead to finally getting the right kind of help.
Doctors had put me on antidepressants a few times over the years. Always after much resistance from me because these medications made me feel so much worse. I was on one after my third baby and I got more and more angry, until I was just so filled with rage I couldn’t stop from yelling at anyone. Turns out that is classic evidence of Bipolar, but no one told me that.
I didn’t tell anyone in the hospital that I thought I might have Bipolar II. I was still embarrassed about it. So, I did some research when I got home and let myself accept this little by little.
It wasn’t until about a month and a half later, when I started feeling really great that I firmly began to accept that what I had was not major depression. I had felt like this before. Every so often I would think I had finally overcome the depression. I would come up with an elaborate life plan for how I was going to never be depressed again. I was going to run the Boston Marathon and win. I was going to participate in the Ironman World Championship and win. I would be sponsored and my husband could retire and we’d travel the world with our kids while I raced and they’d get such an amazing real world education. I’d write a book and it would be on the best seller lists and I’d be on all of the morning talk shows (I’d probably even get to host my own morning talk show), where they’d discover what a great chef I am and I’d be putting out my own recipes. I’d tour the country as a motivational speaker, sharing how I managed to rise above the darkness. And I felt like a rockstar. I knew that I looked amazing and beautiful. And that everywhere I went, women were looking at me in awe and maybe a little jealousy. And the men pretty much all wanted me. Regardless of age or marital status.
One night I summoned all my courage and shared these thoughts with my husband. And he confirmed that these were definitely not “normal” thoughts of “normal” happy people.
So, I had to go back and convince my therapist (because I’d lied to him during those good times, so as to not be diagnosed Bipolar). I switched psychiatrists right around this time and he is who gave the official diagnosis. They had already put me on a mood stabilizer in the hospital. My new doctor added another one to it and thus began my fun journey with a new diagnosis, and new meds.
That all happened within the last year. And it’s been a hard year. Even though I’d been open about speaking out about my depression, I never actually showed it to anyone outside of my home. No one knew how bad it was. No one knew about the prior hospital stays. But this one had been an extended, partial hospitalization where I stayed at the hospital during the day and came home at night, for two weeks. So, my friends had generously watched my kids every day.
And I knew I should just feel loved by this huge act of kindness. But I didn’t. I felt lost. I felt like I no longer had control over how the world saw me. I am a perfectionist. I need control and I need people to see me doing things perfectly only. I want people to think I’m perfect. But, whenever people compliment me on the very areas I’m trying to appear perfect in, I feel like such a fraud.
So, I just felt disconnected from pretty much everyone else. I struggled to be around my friends now that I couldn’t be in control of how they perceived me. It’s so scary not knowing what people are thinking. And honestly, I felt like I’d lost my identity. I couldn’t be “perfect” now that everyone knew how flawed I was. So, I kind of withdrew.
I’m still struggling to deal with all of this. Somedays I fully accept that this is a part of who I am. I’m grateful that I am beginning to understand why I do some of the things I do. And why I have the thoughts and desires that I have. And I’m grateful that for a few days out of the year, I get to be kind of an “enhanced” me. I get to be wittier, more confident, and happier than the average human being.
But, a lot of the time I hate it. I am so angry. Some times it feels like the Bipolar II has taken over completely and there’s no me left at all. I hate what it has done to me. I can’t concentrate. I can’t remember things. I get so angry with myself for not having more control, for not being better. I can’t cope with much stress or negativity. There’s a row of scars on my side from when things have gotten overwhelming to the point that the only way I know how to keep breathing is to hurt myself. And other times, I just want it all to end so badly, all I can think of are ways to take my life. Which never leads to anything good.
I hate my bipolar for what it’s doing to my family. I hate seeing the pain in the eyes of my children when I get so angry over a mistake that any child might make. I hate all of the time they spend watching me cry and worrying that it’s their fault. I hate that they have to take on responsibility bigger than their ages should require, because Mommy can’t do it. And listening to the guilt my husband feels over not being able to help me hurts so bad. He feels responsible for so much of all this for reasons I don’t understand. For years I have begged him to divorce me, or to let me take my own life so that he and the kids could be free from me.
But, he doesn’t.
Which is of course, the sole reason I am still here. And I don’t say that lightly. I honestly cannot fathom staying with someone as miserable as myself. I don’t deserve him. He continues to carry me through all of this with his love and his patience and his kindness. Somehow, he sees past the mess I am and manages to find someone he is in love with. It’s possible I’m not the only crazy one in this marriage…
I have heard so many people talk about that person in their life with bipolar who makes things so miserable, awful, and unbearable. I don’t want to be that person. My therapists are always quick to reassure me that those people weren’t seeking treatment and I’ll be different because I am.
But how does anyone know that? They don’t.
And so, I live in fear. We haven’t found a treatment that works yet. I’ve started another kind of therapy called Dialectical Behavioral Therapy (DBT) that is supposed to be very helpful. And the techniques I’m learned definitely could be. It’s just that I am so very stubborn, it’s hard to convince myself to use them when I’m feeling at my worst. I’ve been on several different mood stabilizers and atypical antipsychotics, in varying doses and combinations, and I’ve noticed far more negative side effects than positive.
I had a really bad day in late August and ended up cutting my wrist. It really wasn’t that bad of a cut, but it freaked out my doctor. When things just kept getting worse, my doctor decided it was time to try something different. So, tomorrow I start electroconvulsive therapy (ECT). Basically, they’re going to induce a seizure three times a week for the next four weeks. Shock therapy. No one knows exactly why, but this is more effective at treating depression than medication. I should be feeling optimistic, I suppose. But, mostly, I’m just scared it won’t work.
Plus, it means that everyone knows again. I’m struggling to adapt this time. To learn to be open and honest around people, even though I’m not in control of how they see me. It’s scary. I have pretty bad anxiety after hanging out with people most of the time. But, I’m tired of keeping things a secret. That’s the trouble with mental illness—since it’s “all in my head”, it’s hard for anyone to understand why I can’t just snap out of it. Myself included sometimes. It’s hard to accept, let alone understand, that the wirings in my brain cause me to do things like yell at someone I love, or hurt my own body. Not to mention that that’s a very ugly truth to present yourself with. When you see someone with cancer, you don’t think, “What is wrong with them that they could possibly let that tumor keep growing on their liver?!” But, that’s how mental illness is treated a lot of the time. Which is why it is hidden so much of the time.
But, this is my honest moment. This is the first place I’ve ever included all of the messy bits in my story together. Usually, I keep some things back, so I still have some control over something. But, that control hasn’t really accomplished anything besides keeping me isolated and afraid and ashamed. The truth is, I am blessed to have so many people who love me and accept what they know of me so far, who are motivated to learn to understand bipolar II because of their love for me. Which makes me luckier than so many whom I’ve crossed paths with. And I guess that’s why I know I can be brave and be a part of breaking the silence on this issue by sharing my story. That’s what I’m going to tell myself anyway because, as one of my therapists once said, “If nothing changes, nothing changes.” And it is definitely time for change.
Story written by: Cheryl Roper
This story appeared first on Real Imprints.
Cheryl,
I imagine is very hard to be open about this. I am proud of you. Perhaps there is more information out there and research that can be done if mental illness was not hidden. My Grandmother had Alzheimers. I have read research saying there is an actual physical change in the brain of those who suffer with Alzheimers. But none of this research would be done or solutions found if we tried to cover it up and not talk about it. I wish you the best. I hope the doctors are able to help find a solution.
This is an amazing story, told by an amazing woman. She is the reason that I sought help to deal with my compulsive overeating and food behaviors. I was able to find a 12 step program that is saving my life. I struggle with perfectionism and always having a facade so that nobody knows how broken I am. I am proud to be her friend.
We love and miss you and your family. None of this information could ever change that. I pray that you and your doctors find a way to help you to feel peace.
Thank you so much for sharing your story. I can relate to aspects of your story & I believe mental illnesses are very common nowadays. I’m happy to see more & more people bring awareness to the struggles that arise out of these illnesses.
Cheryl – thank you so much for sharing your story – my daughter faced a similar struggle in her late teens and twenties. What we asked of her was to just stay in her boat. Things might be bumpy but stay in the boat. You are loved so much by so many – stay in your boat – enjoy the good times and just ride out the bad, the good will always return. This illness is not you – it is an illness – not your fault – not your choice. My thoughts are with you and I am so proud of you for sharing.
Thank you for sharing your story, painful as it may have been to do so. Someone in my immediate family may be suffering from this very diagnosis. May God bless you to find just the exact right treatment so that you can feel that you deserve the happiness that should be yours.
My wife is currently in a psychiatric treatment center after becoming suicidal and not being able to handle the normal daily living. She was just diagnosed with bipolar 2. I am actually devistated. Not because of the bipolar diagnosis. I am happy we know what is wrong. It is clear that after her “mental breakdown” that it will be months to years before we can get a handle of the situation. I am sure nearly everyone knows, but I am not embarrassed. I want to tell more people so I can also tell them how proud I am of her. But I force myself to keep my mouth shut because I am very aware of the stigma that is associated with mental disorders of any sort. Everyone always seems to have an opinion, but not everyone understands. No one ever sees the struggling, and the praying, and the failures, and intense crying spells, and the panick attacks / manic episodes. My wife feels like you do and I feel like your husband does, I’m sure. I can’t wait until she is out of the hospital so I no longer wait around all day for a 10 minute phone call. Thank you for your blog. I feel less alone.
One more thing. I often used to joke with my wife when we talked about her depression. “You do know it is all in your head” I used to say. She would laugh because she knew I knew how real it was. Then I would explain how if I shot someone in the foot, the unpleasantness of it all is also expirienced in the head. Best of luck and thanks again.
Jared–Thank you for your comment. I’m so sorry to hear what you two are going through. I know it has always been difficult for my husband when I’ve been in the hospital. I’m sure it’s hard to be the rock in her life, but she needs you so right now. She’s lucky to have you.
Cheryl, I am not sure if you will get this but I have just finished reading my sister-in-laws book about bipolar. She self published a book about her experience with bipolar. She shares much of the pain you have experienced. If you would be interested you could search for it through Amazon. It is titled “The Minds Search for Meaning: Surviving Bipolar”, by Tosha McCombs. It is not a thrill read, or well advertised as that there are things that could be one with it to make it more of the type of book others would read. She wrote it to inform and so that’s just what it is. I was deeply drawn in mostly because it gave me insight to her life. She is wonderful and I am blessed to have her as my friend. I noted that you are still trying to find the right balance in your life. I hope it has come for you, if not I recommend you read her book.
Oh my goodness! The first half of this is so similar to my story! Do you have a blog or something? I’d love to compare stories. (Not in a comparing way, but in a “we have similiarities and let’s share them” kind of way)
Meagen,
I pretty much just write for Real Imprints now, but for many years I blogged my experiences at http://abiding-joy.blogspot.com. You are welcome to read through that, but I will warn you that it is kind of a rambling and meandering blog. My focus and intent evolved over the years, but out of over a thousand, there are probably at least 2 or 3 posts that are worth a read. 🙂
Cheryl,
First, thank you for writing this post. I am in a very, very similar situation to yours. I am very interested in your thoughts on ECT and if it was effective for you.
Thanks,
JT
JT,
I’m sorry to hear you can relate to my story. As far as ECT, I did not have great results. It helped lift my mood during the period I had the treatments for, but the severe depression came back within a week of quitting ECT. And I was very confused for the whole 1 1/2 months it was going on. I don’t remember very much about that time at all. Complete days and events are totally missing in my memory. I also forgot the majority of the months leading up to it and a few months after. And other random bits of memory–like most of the recipes I used to cook for my family all the time and movies and books I had watched and read. Weird stuff. But my doctor says that is all very atypical. I have encountered several people who have had excellent results from ECT and hardly get confused at all during the treatment. PBS recently aired a documentary called “Ride The Tiger” that goes into detail of several different treatment options for bipolar. Some old and some still in the very early stages of research. It’s pretty interesting and informative to say the least. I don’t know how to put a hyperlink in this comment, but if you copy this: http://www.pbs.org/ride-the-tiger/home/
and paste it into your browser, it should get you to where you can watch it, if you’re interested. Or you can just google it.
Basically, I wouldn’t rule out ECT as a treatment option, but just know the risks and side effects. However, I do think that it may have saved my life just giving me a break from my depression for about 6 weeks, so even for me it was not all bad and I don’t regret at all that I tried it.
Good luck!
Oh! It looks like the link worded once it published, so forget the copy and past bit. 🙂
*worked :p
Thank you so much for sharing this. I went through the same thing, and finally got diagnosed in February as well. You put everything into words that i feel but couldn’t express correctly. I finally realized that being diagnosed doesn’t change what i deal with, it changes the method of treatment and helps me get better faster. 🙂
Megan,
That is exactly how I felt. I had fought the “stigma” of mental illness for so long before I got my diagnosis. But it’s true. What really matters is knowing which beast you’re dealing with so you can be better prepared to battle it. How are you doing since you’re diagnosis? I hope things are improving. Sometimes it can take time, even with the correct diagnosis because treatment is multifaceted (meds, therapy, diet, sleep, exercise, etc.) and it can take some work to find the right balance. I’m still in that stage a bit. 🙂 But I’m so proud of you for having such a healthy attitude towards treating it. This will be the biggest difference in finding wellness and stability in your life. Good luck!
God bless you for sharing. This year we have entered into a year of fighting for our daughter to help her survive biological chemical imbalances. I hate to refer to it as mental illness, I guess because of the stigma. But somehow by saying it is mental, it is as if talking or thinking can solve it or self control is the issue. All so far from the truth! She is a wonderful young lady that I love greatly and I’m so sorry she has to fight this misunderstood disease. I’m thankful for brave people like yourself, sharing your experience. I believe it is more common than any of us realize. Prayers for better understanding, both medically and socially… and for happy days for all.
DD,
What an immense blessing for your daughter to have you fighting with her in this! And you’re not alone in disliking the term “mental illness”. I adopted it because, for the purposes of writing a blog meant to reach anyone and everyone, it simplifies. But I’d say, you call it whatever works for you. There is strength in fighting back against the stigma in whatever way suits you. And I agree wholeheartedly that it is unfortunate that so many truly good people battle this condition. Just remind your daughter that even the darkest days eventually pass and the light always shines through again. You just have to hold on for however long that takes. And that the treatment for this is multi-faceted. Find things that help and add them to your “tool kit” and keep on trying. Thank you for your prayers! I’ll be praying for you and your daughter as well!