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 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....?