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 4th or 5th
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,
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