The first time that I had a doctor sitting in front of me telling me I "had it" I literally got mad! I thought I had a good understanding of what it was and I was certain it wasn't me. Then I began to study it out with my husband by my side. More than our studies, we prayed about this diagnosis that was stuck like a label on my forehead that would never come off. At least, I felt like it was there.
This was and is my answer. I now see that I'm so blessed to know that I do have Bipolar. I've always felt like the hardest part about a challenge is the "not knowing." When I get an answer than I can work with it; I can deal with it. This answer was super hard and I still have days that I want to toss it out the window but I'm dealing and learning and feeling blessed now.
A little more of my story:
A few days ago, I blogged about my so called "heart attack"... that my body was screaming at me to change. I awoke. I changed. I decided that I really did need to start taking that antidepressant that was supposed to help the panic attacks that were causing me to stop functioning. Through my prayers, it was my answer.
I went and filled that prescription and jumped in.
My heart and chest didn't just suffocate me on that one day anymore. I was having those same feelings every single day. I started to look back over the last few weeks (possibly months) and realize that I really was feeling stress. I wasn't being myself.
(What I'm about to share kills me. I only do it in hopes that it might help somebody else. I'm also only able to do it because I have had the help I need now. It doesn't happen in my home anymore. I'm so grateful to The Atonement of Jesus Christ and the professionals that have helped me.)
I wasn't being calm and sweet to my husband any more. I wasn't handling all that was on my plate well at all. Just putting the kids to bed at night was literally turning me into a witch. I kid you not...my screaming and hysterical crying was stopping everything in my home multiple times a day.
It hurts me and rips at my heart to share this but I remember screaming at my dear precious husband way too many times over really stupid little things like the towel on the floor and thinking in my head "why am I yelling? this isn't me. where is this coming from?"
I would be curled up on the bathroom floor crying so bad I couldn't breathe and be there for hours.
I slept any chance I got and then some. I was not interested in things that I normally loved. My eating habits were crazy. My house work basically stopped. I stopped going on walks just to be in the sunshine like I loved. I never shopped. It took all I had to get behind the wheel of my car to drive if I absolutely had to.
I couldn't look at anyone in the eyes anymore. I stopped answering the door. I couldn't pick up the phone. When I went to church, I had to come late so I didn't have to talk to anybody and would sometimes just get up and leave in the middle because my heart was racing so bad I couldn't breathe again. On top of all that, Justin is a pilot and was never there at church and gone days at a time. My poor sweet children were cared for by close friends (so grateful for them).
I wasn't okay. I would go back to my doctors office quite a few times and he would just raise the dosage until finally one day he said he couldn't do anything else to help me. He told me I needed to find a psychologist that could do more.
Justin and I went through weeks of prayers, insurance lists, different doctors office, met some really wacky psychiatrists and psychologists and finally one day Justin called an office for me and set up an appointment. He made extra precautions to make sure I could be directed in the office by him and could sit in a quiet corner. That is how bad it was. He literally had to hold me and guide me in. The psychiatrist walked out of the office and came right up to me and guided me back to his office. I felt peace. For the first time in weeks I knew we were in the right office.
I was overwhelmed with the peace I felt when I sat in that big red wing back chair and began to answer question after question. I couldn't quite muster the eye contact while telling my story but all the sudden I looked up in his eyes when he told me he wasn't as concerned with my Anxiety Disorder but more concerned that I have something called Bipolar!!! I was angry and I felt all that peace vanished.
I was not out spending crazy amounts of money we didn't have. I had never had thoughts of suicide. I wasn't doing risky or foolish things out in public that I saw bipolar described in the movies/tv shows.
Now I know that my angry feeling caused that peace to go away. I left that office with gobs of reading material, a prescription for a mood stabilizer on top of the antidepressant I was already on and a foggy memory of anything else that he said to me that day.
So, What is Bipolar?
It's textbook description is defined as shifting between extraordinarily manic behavior, feeling on top of the world or supercharged with energy, to feeling depressed, withdrawn, and suicidal.
I've decided that perspective certainly plays a large role in finding or diagnosing this disorder. This is certainly just my opinion and my experiences written here on this blog, but we are all very different and function at home, in our own minds and in public so different. So, what looks like to me and Justin that I have Bipolar may look completely normal to somebody else in the world.
We rely so much on what we know I am, what I am not, my nature, and what our Heavenly Father inspires us to do.
From my studies, I have learned that there are factors that are believed to cause the cycling of Bipolar Disorder: pretty complicated genetic background, individual biochemistry and life stresses. Learning this brought me immense peace as it lifted my burden and self-blame that I brought this all upon myself--maybe through lack of faith or weak character.
So over two years I've wondered. Is it in my family background and in my biochemistry? What triggered it to manifest right now in my life?
That my friends is why like Elder Holland said I should, I found a professional psychologist (therapist) to help me sort that out. I really did not know those answers. I really was searching and needed so much help. The medication from my psychiatrist was not my only help.
This is getting a little long for today. I will go into more details about the wonderful therapy program I was lead to and what I've learned of Bipolar/Anxiety Disorder another day.
