THE JOURNEY TO INDEPENDENCE 1

It's taken three days to understand blogger and I'm working now on counters.  Vampires just leave the wrong impression with me.  This whole technological era is very intimidating.  As I read tons of information, I have decided I like the idea about using the alarm feature on my 1919 cell phone after all.  If I don’t get it within three hours, move on… gee whiz.
 

 

Now, this is normal for everybody I suppose or why else would cell phones have alarms?  Of course, it cannot have much to do with being diagnosed with a mental health condition.  I just think it is.cr---.. nope, I cannot say that word.  So, on this hot and muggy day, I am recalling how I could not read when I was first diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder in 1993.  All words were hazy and my mind was just too 'fatigued' to comprehend the simple words:  see jane run. 

I had absolutely no energy and moving my eyeballs to the next sentence wasn't gonna happen.  I kept looking around the therapist' office for a hide-away so I could lay down.  Actually, when he stepped out of his office, I took advantage of that opportunity and did just that.  It just felt good and stress free for a few minutes.  It was a little embarrassing when he returned and I laying down on the floor, but … he should have a sofa like on television!

Here I am 20... OMG!  It's been 20 years!  Thank you, God, for not forsaking me.

Amen!  Twenty years ago I was in an institution being diagnosed with a mental illness and my family was encouraged to leave me there and move on with their lives.  They left me there and I was so afraid I would be there forever, but they only went home to get some much needed sleep because I had them up for days with no sleep!..Even I could not sleep because my mind was racing and I was in full-blown manic depressive mode.  Nobody knew what was 'wrong' with me so they stayed up watching me and my kids while I talked about everything under the sun --- NON-STOP!

WOW! Well, ten days or so later when they had rested and the medications were taking affect, to stabilize me, I was discharged from that place and the first thing I had to do was check my kids' homework.  Nobody in my family understood my new diagnosis... Neither did I.  My family just sort of dropped me off and expected everything would fall back into place and especially since I was sleeping (actually ALL I did was sleep for a while.).  The kids' homework was just all black ink on white paper.  They caught on something was up, though, and they began signing my name to nonsense, staying up late watching television, talking on the phone, and microwaving all the food in the house!  It wasn’t long before I knew it was time for me to crawl out of bed, or up off the sofa, and put the chocolate sandwich cookies down when their "F's" started rolling in, but I had to make my mind work on its ‘new’ terms ... slowly.

 

 

One of the symptoms of Bipolar Disorder is restlessness and/or sleep disorder.  Days before I had a nervous breakdown and was hospitalized, I had not slept at all due to Chronic Depression.  That is when Depression lasts for at least two weeks or longer.  The combination of symptoms include:  You may lose your appetite or over-eat (comfort foods), sleep disorder could occur (too much, or too little, or not at all), your mind, body, and soul hurts causing you to have crying spells, your judgment soon becomes clouded, you may become sexually promiscuous or have risky behaviors (i.e., recreational drug use, alcohol abuse, speeding in your car), you may be argumentative, angry, and you may lack energy.  The longer you ignore these symptoms, you are causing your brain chemicals to become more and more imbalanced and that leads to more serious brain disorders.  Mental illnesses are brain disorders and all brain disorders are incurable.  Brain Disorders; however, are treatable and preventable!
 

 

So, unaware that I was suffering from Chronic Depression led me right over the edge.  Depression hurts.  Chronic Depression is a killer!  When the hurting begins to interrupt your daily life functions, it is time to see a doctor, but I did not know that then.  I was used to hurting.  It is important to understand how important sleep is, too.  The brain needs it every day.  I had not slept in about 3 or 4 days when I became manic depressive.  So, ignoring the symptoms of Chronic Depression and no sleep at all is horrendously damaging to the body, mind, and soul.  That was the beginning of my journey which was quite visible to those around me even though I did not notice or believe anything was ‘wrong’ with me. 
 

 

So, there I was staring at my kids’ homework too ashamed to disclose that I could not read.  It was easy recognizing shapes such as an egg, but the word ’egg’ was too difficult to interpret or pronounce.  In fact, an egg was too darn heavy to pick up in those early days of recovery.  Then I found the courage to ask a family member to show me how to read again.  What a humbling step that was, but it paid off.  That person brought me a newspaper and ... chocolate sandwich cookies!  I had to call this person each and every day and read a sentence.  Sounds silly now, but before I knew it, I was reading articles again.  It was so liberating being able to read again eventually.  For me, that meant to be able to see the word clearly, pronounce it, read it, and understand the word.  This meant I could soon read the teachers’ notes, too, when the kids goofed off in school.  They couldn't read them to me anymore.  (Ha!)  Imagine their 'red' faces when I wrote my own note back to the teacher!!!!

The fear of never being able to read again led me to swallow my pride.  I rationalized that I did not have to be ashamed, embarrassed, or have too much pride to ask, "Can you help me?"  About six months later, when I visited my therapist, I did not have to make up tales about how I spent my time anymore.  I was reading everything on his desk, walls, shelves, reception area, etc., etc., etc.  What a proud day it was when he informed me that he was decreasing two of my medications (out of 11).

Then, guess what I did....?

THE INVISIBLE JOURNEY TO INDEPENDENCE 2

Happy belated Memorial day!  Can you believe it’s the end of May already?  WOW! 

Well, thanks for coming back.  I’m trying real hard to catch everybody up to where I am in life now since being diagnosed with a psychiatric disability in 1993.  For those of you who have known me for a while, you know I really do not talk about myself much, so this is really challenging revealing these things.  (Shh).  That is because I must revisit the experience with you.  I am blessed to be able to give insight and I thank you for your patience.  Now, I last wrote about how difficult it was to read early in my diagnosis.  I loved to read before my disability began and not being able to read was like losing my best friend.  Reading is like being able to take a vacation anywhere in the world or visit anybody and it is so relaxing.  The learning possibilities are endless, too.  I actually grieved not being able to read because it was very lonely just doing nothing and I have never been a big fan of television.  Comfort foods were alright for a while, but I longed to read again.  So I hope you can see how truly happy I was when I could link words into sentences again and actually understand what I read.  It was a daily process of about three or four months.  Another hurdle was that I had to push through the medications I was taking as well.  Imagine beginning an exercise routine.  It is hard at first and you start off with 10 repetitions and work your way up.  You have to stop from time to time on the same number of repetitions and then you gain muscle strength and increase.  It was the same way.  I had to find baby words and baby sentences and work my way back to more challenging sentences.  Then having to explain it back in my own words.  Glory! 

So, when I went on my regular visit to the therapist and he decided I was getting stronger and no longer needed two of the medications, I was so proud of myself.  I felt wonderful.  I was doing find-a-word puzzles, reading, and writing.  Well I felt so good one day shortly after stopping those two medocations that I figured, “I don’t need all this stuff and why wait  until my next visit to have some meds taken out of my diet anyway?”    

What a BIG mistake that was! I continued to feel good after I stopped those medications, but before I even made it back to my next scheduled appointment, I was back in the hospital!  The depression fell on me like a ton of bricks and the mind started racing again.  Praise God, my family was now becoming educated so as soon as I began rambling, my mother said, “I’m on my way to take you back to the hospital.”  Of course, I responded, “I’m fine.  I’m fine.”  Then my parents showed up.  When I recall that now, I must honestly say it was more embarrassing that second time than the first time I was hospitalized, because I had begun reading about my psychiatric disability and knew the symptoms, but most importantly I knew that I should never, ever stop taking my medications without the doctor discontinuing it.  So, not only did I feel really bad, guilty, and remorseful for putting my family through a few days of increased responsibilities taking care of my kids again, I was very, very afraid I would not be able to read or write again.  I actually prayed, “God, please don’t punish me for being stupid.”  God had blessed me so much restoring me and allowing me out of that institution through His mercy and grace and I turned around and took things into my own hands.   

Well, I learned a mighty big lesson spending another week of my life in the psychiatric unit while my medications leveled off again.  I am blessed because when I was discharged, I was still able to read and write. My motor skills were not interrupted.  I was just feeling really, really euphoric and had this need to tell everybody….    

So, I resumed my medications and was also fortunate that I did not have to go back to the beginning and take all 11 medications again.  Then I had to be hospitalized again!  This completely threw everybody in my family for a loop because I was taking all my medications as prescribed and I was doing very well.  However, I developed a gall stone and had to have emergency surgery.  Well, that surgery threw me into a manic episode.  I had to go from the hospital recovery room a week after surgery straight to the psychiatric unit.  It was awful, awful, awful!  I was extremely angry at the world because I had not read anywhere that surgery could contribute to Bipolar Disorder (chemical imbalances).  The best I can describe it is that Chronic Depression weighs you down like a ball and chain.  With Bipolar Disorder, I had the opposite effect one minute and the ball and chain affect the next.  One minute I was happy and talking my head off and the next moment I was crying and very angry.  The combination of these “mood swings” hurt!  So, I had to start all over again on 11 medications and go another 4 to 6 weeks wearing a medical device at my surgery site because during my confusion, I tried to pull at the surgical site.  I was angry about my mental health.  I was angry about the surgery.  I was angry because of the need to start all over again when I had tried so hard to recover, but I was never violent (combative).  That surgery set me back almost a year physically and mentally.  Then there was the issue of side effects.  The side effects made my hands tremble and that made it difficult to write, cook, etc.  I gained sooo much weight as well from dry-mouth syndrome.  I was drinking cases of sodas a week.  Throughout this phase, I believed every day I had lost my life.  All I could do was just dream and day dream about how I wished my life could be.  There is safety from the world under blankets so a lot of my time was spent under blankets.  I got up to see the kids off to school and to greet them coming home.

Then the sun beamed again!

I was on an appointment with the 4^th or 5^th therapist.  In those days, it seemed like nobody really liked his/her job as a therapist or something.  I had adjusted to not trusting my therapist simply because I did not know if he or she would still be my therapist when I returned for a follow-up.  That was just the way it was.  They came and they went.  Then my brand new doctor seemed to be sent from heaven.  He explained the industry bureaucracy being the cause of frequent changes.  I was honestly relieved it wasn’t me causing the therapists to quit.  Actually, they were just shuffled around or left voluntarily for better opportunities.  (sigh).  So, he asked me many questions about my life leading up to the diagnosis which was unusual.  After I told him, he said something I will never forget.  He said, “Let’s work together to get you your life back!”  I spent the next 10 minutes or so simply crying.  Could that be possible? 

Well, he had one condition and I am fast-forwarding here.  He said you will need to see another therapist and attend a rehab program.  Of course, I said defensively, “I don’t do drugs and I don’t drink.  I don’t need rehab.”  Oh, how we think we know everything.  Anyway, he explained that mental rehabilitation centers existed to help persons like me and I was the perfect candidate.  It was not an institution.  In short, I agreed and I loved my new therapist.  As soon as I stepped in his office, my eyes rested on a religious picture.  It was beautiful.  We hit it off right away and he did not keep looking at the clock!  I actually looked forward to appointments with him.  The rehabilitation center was even better.  I got back into arts and crafts and went to a women’s spirituality session three days a week.  I always tell my bagel story so I will share today that it was so enjoyable making arts and crafts.  It was relaxing and it brought strength and stability to my motor skills.  My ability to focus increased and I learned how to eat nutritional meals that I could prepare for my family as I progressed.  I learned just how important exercise was, too.  So, I took my medications, started walking, and swimming.  I exchanged sodas for water and kept reading and writing.  It was less than two months before my therapist encouraged me to join a community bible study group.   

About a few months before I took that step, I accidently discovered the National Alliance on Mental Illnesses (NAMI).  It was accidental because although I was aware I had a psychiatric disability, I had not accepted that I had one.  When I realized how strong I was becoming, I would increase my distance walking and one day I had walked right to the community location of NAMI.  When I recall that day, I realize how God was answering my prayers and ordering my steps more and more.  So, I ventured into NAMI and before I knew it, I was attending regularly for Peer-to Peer meetings.  The wealth of information in those meetings helped me move from the diagnosis/treatment stage of denial to acceptance.  To me, acceptance is another way of saying responsibility and self-control.  I could share with peers my experiences and I gained the last of my confidence back that I could live a normal life.  It took some work and some time, but it was well worth it. 

My life came together (stability) when I actually joined a bible study group.  Glory!  Now, there are cloudy days of depression and there are dark days of depression.  Chronic Depression to me is a dark day.  The “cloudy” days are the trials and tribulations of life that we all have to manage.  I learned to conquer the dark days.  Amen.  My daily goal is to prevent those clouds and dark days from happening at all cost.  Learning more about God and biblical characters was the best medicine.  Especially, Noah and David.  First, my therapists said to me, “Can you imagine how hard it was for Noah to build an ark on dry land and everybody around him calling him “crazy?!”  We laughed, but I still think about that.  Then he said, “Let’s build an ark!”  Second, King David wrote the most beautiful Psalms and he suffered with Depression.  I approached the Book of Psalms from the standpoint of ‘please show me the way, Lord.’  In fact, the more I developed my relationship with God, the more cloudy days became manageable and those dark days were prevented.  When I surrendered my life to Christ, I could embrace living purposefully with a psychiatric disability serving God.  Before, when dark days occurred, I discovered I was disconnected spiritually from God and I do not ever want to be, or feel, disconnected from God.  So, serving God to me means doing what it takes to stay connected to Him.  AMEN! 

As my life began coming together, the number of medications steadily decreased.  I was not (stupid) and repeated the mistake of stopping medications on my own again.  I learned to forgive those who mistreated me because of my visible disability and those who won’t accept my invisible disability.  I also began to understand how important it is to testify and help the next person find recovery.  Recovery is being fully capable of functioning independently in society including ability to work and live independently.  So, as long as I was disconnected from God and playing doctor to myself, recovery was not possible for me.  I learned to trust my last therapist and doctor who took excellent care of me because God sent two angels to help me find my life again. 

I have successfully published a book, completed a master’s in public administration program, started Levine-Oliver Publisher, taught middle school students part-time, and I study the Word of the living God to stay spiritually well!  I ignore those who want to keep me chained to the scary dark days and yester years.  I am not ever ashamed to reach out for help and I believe in myself.  Now, that brings me to taking the next step.  It’s time to receive what God has ordained for LOP.  That’s why we’re here today.  Smile. 

So, I believe I found a flag counter that I like a whole lot better than vampires counting.  I’m still not sure if this is really important…hmmmm.  Ok, so I’m working on getting flags up on the site and I have to get some business matters completed and in the mail.  Starting a business is fun and takes a lot of work and sacrifices.  I’m taking tele-classes, reading other blogs, etc., and I improved my weekly newsletter.  I’m also beginning the planning stage of releasing a reprint of my book and leisure e-book.  Am I scared?  Heck, yeah, and over-whelmed at times, but God has not brought me this far to leave me!  Amen! 

You know I heard someone say they made it a point to do 7 things in 7 hours every day.  Well, I tried that….  I decided that realistically, I will do one thing until I’m satisfied with it.  I will leave time in my day for those things to just happen.  And I will keep using my alarm (this alarm thingy is soo cool!  I actually had my dinner cooked by 5 for a change--- WOW!). 

See ya next week,