Friday, December 18, 2009

School Daze

In school I was always unpopular. From first grade to high school I was subject of taunts and rumors.In fourth grade I was hated because someone spread a rumor about me. They spread a rumor that I had spread a rumor about two kids that were going steady. I made the comment " who knows what goes on behind closed doors" but I didn't spread it around the school, this other girl did that. So when I was asked if I'd said that I said yes. I was accused of spreading a rumor when I didn't spread one at all. The whole school hated me for it. I just went to school and endured it. Fifth grade and sixth grade were bad as far as taunting went. I had to endure daily taunting from kids in my class. The teachers just let it happen. They didn't try to address it or stop it. That really made me angry because it was disruptive to the class.

I didn't have the money to buy the right clothes and have the right hair style to be popular in high school. I joined JROTC to avoid gym class. I was not popular in JROTC. I was clumsy and overweight. In my senior year I did o.k. in school. I looked forward to going to college. In college I was in ROTC for my freshman year. I was out of shape and unpopular. People really hated me in ROTC. I quit after a year of that.

I joined the Denver Church of Christ and got really involved in the campus ministry. I had started to display symptoms of my Bipolar Disorder. Eventually I had to drop out of college. After four years in college I had no work experience. I was also suffering from severe depression. I was having trouble keeping a job when a severe bout depression hit and I burned my apartment down. I spent two weeks in jail and eventually got probation for two years for arson. I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder after a bad reaction to an anti-depressant.

I just don't know why I endured such unpopularity in school. I was overweight most of my childhood. I didn't play sports so I was out of shape physically. I was poor growing up and didn't have the right clothes and hairstyle. Kids just made fun of me naturally. I just got used to being hated for no reason. My self-esteem was pretty low throughout my childhood. I was pretty quiet in my teen years. I still made enemies, though. I didn't do anything to deserve being picked on. I was just used to being unpopular by high school. I kept going to school because I enjoyed learning. When I was fifteen I was severely depressed and almost flunked out of high school. My mother did nothing about this. I don't even think she knew.

I spent my childhood and teen years very lonely. I would do alot of reading,t.v. and movie watching. I would say my hobby was watching movies and reading books. I didn't have a car so I couldn't go clubbing. I basically spent time by myself. I was very inept socially. I had no social skills. Joining the church really made me feel better about myself. I learned how to interact with people. I became devoted to the church and the campus ministry. When I became depressed and was diagnosed I left the church because they didn't understand my illness. I returned to the church after two years because I missed the relationships.

Being taunted and unpopular in school set me up for being in the church. I was love bombed and that was very overwhelming for me. I actually thought they cared about me. Right after I was baptised,however,I realised that I was no more than a statistic. I stayed in the church 20 years because I wanted to please God and I wanted to belong to a group of people. I hated being alone and being in the church meant that I was always a part of something. I loved the feeling of belonging I had in being in the church.

Being out of the church has been hard because that lonely feeling I had when I was a kid has come back. I hate going places by myself because I feel so alone. I feel anxiety when I go out because I'm afraid something will happen to me. I hate that solitary feeling I get when I am alone. It's scary and distastful. Being on Facebook helps my loneliness because at least people read your stuff and care about what you are doing.

Saturday, December 12, 2009

Riding the Wave

It's been sixteen years since I was first diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. I had symptoms far earlier than that. I remember having depressed symptoms when I was nine years old. I was sad,depressed,unable to concentrate,not taking care of myself, and being introverted. It lasted about six months. My mother thought I was being rebellious and lazy and didn't think to take me to the doctor. When I was fifteen years old I was so depressed I almost flunked out of High School. Somehow my mother didn't even notice. My sister was also dealing with Bipolar illness during this time so maybe she was to overwhelmed to notice.

I have been depressed in 1977, 1983-4,1989, 1991-2,1998,2005-2009. I had manic episodes in 1992,1999 and 2004. I have been hypomanic in 1990, 1994, and 2002. I have been on Lithium, Tagertol, Depakote, Haldol, Risperedol,Wellbutrin, Lamictal, Paxil, Prozac, and Disiprimine. I have been hospitalized only twice for mania other times I was in the emergency room. I am currently on Haldol and Lithium and have been for five years.

I was watching a movie about surfing and I realized that having Bipolar Disorder is very much like riding an ocean wave. You may see it coming but you can't control it once you are on it. You just have to stay on your surfboard and keep from falling off it. I have been trying to stay on my board this whole time. There were times when I fell off the board but I got right back on it. Over the years I have learned the importance of staying alive and healthy.

I learned it's important to take care of my health. I need to eat healthy and exercise daily. I haven't been exercising but that will change. I need to make sure my thyroid and metabolism is healthy. That means eating regularly and exercising. I also need to learn to use my lightbox during the winter months so I don't get too depressed. Just getting outside in the sun does the trick but when it's too cold to go outside I need to use the lightbox.

I have learned that I am not my illness. It doesn't define who I am or make up my whole identity.I need to stop torturing myself with guilt over mistakes I have made while depressed or manic. Not being able to finish school is a huge regret of mine. I need to see that I was limited by forces I couldn't control at the time. I need to learn to forgive myself for not being the person I wanted to be. I have felt guilt over not being a good wife and Christian. I need to see that I tried my best under the circumstances.

I need to cherish the friendships and relationships I have with people and not take them for granted or assume they don't care about me. I need to make sure I keep in touch with family and friends even when I am depressed and don't feel like talking to people. If I am hypomanic I need to be low key and not get angry or irritated easily.

When I am depressed I need to make the decision that I need to stay alive. I need to seek help when I am suicidal and not be afraid to be a burden to my husband. I need to plan my days and make sure I go out even if it is for a few minutes during the day. I need to stay busy with writing and reading even when I don't feel like doing anything. I need to face reality and not avoid it by staying in bed or overeating. I need to let go of my guilt and anxiety by journaling and reading positive affirmations.

When I am hypomanic I need to seek rest and quiet. I need to pace myself and not overwhelm myself with numerous projects. I need to journal and make sure I'm not getting delusional. I need to put a moratorium on spending any money that's not in the budget. I need to check my irritability and anger and not pick fights with people in my life. I also need to make sure my anxiety does not skew reality. If I am feeling hypersexual I need to make sure I stay safe and within my relationship with my husband.

It's been difficult riding this wave of Bipolar illness. I feel that I have lost so much while trying to stay alive and healthy. I don't know how to salvage my self-esteem or how I can regain my Christian faith. I feel like the last five years have been about recovery and healing. I have often felt like I was retarded emotionaly because it seemed like I couldn't feel anything for a long time. I am finally coming to a calm place I think. I still have a long way to go but I feel much better this year than past years.

I have to be more disciplined about taking my medication. I admit that I have not been as diligent as I need to be. It's important that I take my medication so I don't have a severe depressive episode or a manic episode. I've been lucky in that I haven't needed to go to the hospital in five years. I need to keep a journal so I know when I am missing doses. I need to be more disciplined about my health.

Overall I feel I have learned that I am stronger than I give myself credit for. I know who my real friends are. I know I am loved and people do care about me. It's just been hard knowing that I could not have been able to work at all these nine years. I still don't think I can work a full time job but maybe I could work a part-time job. I just want things to be different than they have been.

Finally Recovering

It's been five years but I finally feel like I am coming out of the fog. After my manic episode in July of 2004 I felt so crippled by depression that I could barely function. It was all I could do to stay alive. I wanted nothing more than to die. I was so out of it for four years. I had so much fear and anxiety too like I was afraid that I would end up alone and homeless. We struggled financially because I couldn't work. It was hard. We are still struggling financially but don't have any big debt besides my student loans. It would be nice if I could work part time. I want to work but I don't know how to get a job with my job history. I haven't worked in nine, almost ten years. It's hard to get work with that kind of history.

I find myself writing more. I want to write books,stories,and screenplays. I just don't know where to begin as I have never written a book or a screenplay. I want to be productive and eventually make money with my writing. I just don't want to spend another five years wandering through a fog of self-pity. I want to make each day count for something. I don't want the next year to go by before I am able to do something about my life. I just want to move on with my life. I have been paralyzed emotionally from my last manic episode. I was so full of guilt and regret. I hurt my husband so much. I felt really worthless. I couldn't hold on to my religious faith and survive. I had to give it up. That was hard to do but necessary for my own sanity. I had to get of the religious treadmill I was on to keep from destroying myself.

I still deal with anxiety and fear. Sometimes I have to force myself to get out of the house. I have a fear that I will not have enough time to actually write and finish a manuscript. I'm afraid my husband will lose his job and I'll be forced to work two jobs to pay the rent. I need to let go of my anxieties and fears but it is difficult. I often make up worse-case-scenarios where I end up alone and homeless. It's hard because I have so much time on my hands. I need to remind myself that these things could happen but they probably won't. I just as well might get struck by lightning too.

I really want to be happy and enjoy my life without worrying about my future. The tough economic times we are in really inspires me to be grateful for what I do have. I need to be there for my family and friends too. I have been kind of absent emotionally. I need to be patient with myself and realize that I can't control the course of my recovery. For whatever reason it has taken five years. That wasn't in my control. I need to see that.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Reality Sucks

I have spent all my life trying to escape my reality. When I was young I would daydream, talk to God, read books, watch movies, anything to escape my present reality. I ate food to numb the reality of my own self-loathing. I slept to escape reality. I had a miserable childhood and youth. I was unpopular at school and people actually hated me. At home my mother and older sister would yell at me constantly for not doing or being something they wanted. I felt like I had no comfort anywhere. I spent alot of time by myself and developed an active fantasy life. I slept alot and watched alot of t.v. I would go to movies by myself and spend time alone away from home. Some days were unbearable but I got through it. I developed a faith in God and a love for reading the Bible. It gave me comfort that someone out there cared about me if no one else did.

Now that I don't believe in God anymore I feel really alone. It's really hard to find comfort in movies and books anymore. I know they are not real. I still have a fantasy sometimes but it doesn't give me the pleasure it used to. I'm really alone. There's no god to talk to. I find comfort in music and writing and the fact that I have friends and family who do care about me. I don't sleep much any more and my appetite for food has diminished. I just feel like I am simply enduring life until I die. Sometimes it gets unbearable. I am so full of axiety. I fear that we will end up homeless or I will have a heart attack or stroke. I feel like the minute I let go and enjoy my life something shitty happens and my reality sucks again. I worry alot that this will happen. I don't know how to let go of the anxiety and worry.

I feel a little lost now that I am an atheist. What's my purpose ? How do I live my life to the full? Who cares? I just feel so vulnerable to the adverse forces out there. People who can rob and kill you. Things that can go wrong. Circumstances that can arise that are impossible to solve. I just feel like its open season on Ellen Roberts. I want to feel inner peace like I did when I was a Christian. I want to feel loved and looked after. I miss that feeling. I miss prayer. I miss talking to God and feeling his ear lowered to my mouth. I miss feeling that angels were watching over me to guide and protect me. I feel so alone and weak.

I wish I could go back to believing in God but I can't. It's just a myth to me now. I don't know exactly why I stopped believing in God. I think it might have been a result of spiritual exhaustion. I tried so hard to follow the Bible but there were so many contradictions. Sometimes things the Bible said were wrong flew in the face of a person's very nature. I couldn't keep up. I couldn't be like Jesus no matter how hard I tried. I had flaws and I couldn't overcome them with prayer and self-discipline. I couldn't be joyous because of my depressions. It seemed like the closest to pleasing God I became was when I was manic. How crazy is that! Being manic is an illness it's a delusion. That made me realize that Christianity is a delusion. It was made to bring comfort to lonely people whose reality really sucked. The Bible was written to give an explanation for our pain and suffering. I don't know where all the rules and regulations came from. I guess that was created to give people boundaries they could follow so they could feel like they were pleasing God. But if you can't follow the rules you can't feel loved and accepted by God and people. It's a terrible cunundrum of misery and I could no longer take part in it.

Being a Christian wasn't a wast of time. I learned how to talk to people and be open with my feelings. I learned how to be self-disciplined and follow others. I learned how to build friendships and give to people and be thoughtful. I learned how to serve people without expecting anything in return. I grew up emotionally and let go of my fantasy life. I learned to focus my energy outside myself and not be self-focused. I refuse to think that my Christian life was a waste of time. I made life-long friendships that I cherish deeply.

For whatever reason I needed to be a Christian. I needed the support. I just need to find another support. Writing seems to be that support I need. Getting my stories and screenplays out and putting them in front of the public would really help me feel productive and useful. Speaking out in support of people with mental illnesses would give me a purpose.

Life is too short to let it fly by while you are laying in bed trying to escape reality. If my reality sucks I have the power to change it. I did that when I joined the ICOC. I wanted a relationship with God and best friends. I had that. I still have the best friends and family who care for me. I need to change how I perceive reality. I need to get to the point where I am glad to face my reality no matter how challenging. This is difficult to do. I often have a skewed view of reality that keeps me from enjoying life.

I want to enjoy my life. I want to live longer than I expect to live. People's lives are cut short everyday. I think I need to more grateful for my life even with the shitty parts. I survived the hard parts of my life with support of friends and family. Friends and family will always be there. I need to stop taking these relationships for granted. I need to stop taking my life for granted.
I need to be patient with myself and teach myself to write well and powerfully. I need to build my own reality. A reality that I enjoy existing in. A reality where I can feel good about myself and what I am doing.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

The Last Nine Years

In May of 2000 I quit my job because I couldn't function at work anymore. I was taking Haldol and another medication for my Bipolar and it was making me very sleepy. I thought I could get on disability after a year. In 2001 I applied for disability but was denied. I tried to look for work but couldn't find anything.

In 2002 I went to school at CU Denver. I thought I could try to finish my degree. I went to school for a year. I remember being on medication and going to a mental health center that was down the street from where we lived. My husband got laid off and tried looking for work. He was out of work for 18 months. We couldn't afford medication so I wasn't on anything during 2003. I went to a therapist during 2002-2003. In July of 2004 I had a manic episode. I was in the hospital for 2 weeks. I got out of the hospital and was on meds for a while. Then in November of 2004 I went to the hospital for a week. I was put on Lithium and Haldol. We had no insurance so I was seeing a psychiatrist out of pocket. I saw Dr. Bell for about six months and then she referred me to a program out of Porter Hospital that was cheap. We lost our house in 2003. Howard worked for RTD and then he worked driving airport shuttles at night. Howard got a job working in appliance repair. We lived in a friend's apartment for a year and half then moved out of there to a cheaper apartment in Glendale. That was September 2005. Howard quit his job at Action Appliance in 2006 and got a job at the Curtis Hotel in January 2007. In February 2007 Howard and I left our church that we'd been attending for 20 years.

In 2002 I applied for disability again but was denied again. I tried working at home but I couldn't do it. It was too hard. I only worked for a week then I had to quit. In 2003 to 2006 I was extremely depressed. After my manic episode I couldn't sleep at night. I still can't sleep at night. I don't remember much of 2006 through 2008. I don't recall how I spent my days. In 2005 I remember sleeping at night. In 2006 through 2008 I think I slept during the day mostly if at all. This past year I have been sleeping during the early morning hours or in the afternoon. I only sleep for 2 to 4 hours a day but I don't feel sleep deprived. I've been on lithium and Haldol since 2005. In 2006 I applied for disability again and got denied again. In 2008 I tried looking for work but couldn't find anything. In 2008 my mood improved and I tried to write.

The past nine years have been a struggle to stay out of the hospital and alive. Howard has not dealt very well with the stress of been the sole bread winner. It's hard living on one income because we can't keep a savings and we don't have a car. I'm am worried about Howard losing his job in a bad economy. If he died I would end up on the street. We can't afford to maintain a life-insurance policy. My weird sleeping habits prohibits me from finding work. I could probably work part-time but full time work would be impossible. I have tried to change my sleeping habits so that I could work full time but it's impossible. Sleep aids don't work on me. I can't afford to see the proper doctors to figure out what's wrong with me. I could sleep fine before my manic episode. It seems that my brain has been re-wired or something.

I have spent half of the last nine years depressed and barely functional. I feel extremely guilty because I haven't been able to work. I feel better lately and I could probably work a part time job. I need to do something to help our financial situation. I feel helpless sometimes because my sleep habits are crazy. I don't know how I could handle it if I tried to work a job even part-time. I wish I could write professionaly but I don't know if I have enough talent. I also feel as if I am being forced to write for a living. I think that's why I put it off so much. I feel like I have to come up with an Oscar winning screenplay or a bestselling book or something.

I just need to put the last nine years into some kind of perspective. I feel that I have spent it dealing with and recovering from my illness. I need to get rid of the guilt I feel for not being able to finish school or work a full time job. It's really hard to feel good about myself when I haven't been very productive. I have to stop punishing myself for having a disability that keeps me from doing the things that I want to do.

Sunday, November 29, 2009

What Life Could Have Been

I've been thinking about my life and what could have been different if I'd made different decisions. If my mother could have taken me to the doctor when I was 15 and suffering from depression I could have gotten on the right meds sooner and been able to finish college. If I had not joined the ICOC I could have flourished in my career as a writer. I could have paid off my student loans and made some money on my own. I would have married someone different. I would have been able to meet more people and make more friends. I would have been happier and been better adjusted.

I feel like twenty years of my life was wasted in a unhealthy church that just sucked the life out of me. I focused on church instead of a career as a writer. I became a religious nut who just focused on recruiting people into the church. I couldn't relate to anybody. I couldn't enjoy my life. I was so focused on pleasing the leadership in the church that I neglected family relationships. I tried to be the perfect wife and disciple. I couldn't be pleased with my progress. I felt constant guilt for not living up to the church's example of what I should be. I idolized leaders and made them more than they were. I tried really hard to please a God whom I felt couldn't be satisfied. Tweny years of that. My niece is tweny-five. I wasted most of her life in a system that was impossible to conquer.

I stayed off of disability because of my father. I wanted to please him. I wanted to show him that I could take care of myself. He went to his grave never believing in me. He thought I was stupid,lazy,religious,and unable to take care of myself. If I had finished school and made a career as a writer he would have been proud of me. He would have died proud of me. He is gone and I can't do anything about it.

My sister loved me and just wanted a relationship with me but I was too busy judging her for her relationship with her boyfriend. I could have had a closer relationship with her but I was too busy looking down on her for her mental illness. She is dead now and I can't do anything about it. I have one other sister and I can't make a connection with her. She makes me so angry because she she looks down on me. I am so discouraged about that. I wish I was friends with her and that she understood my struggle with my illness. She is just so judgmental. It infuriates me. She has blinders on and cant see her own mental illness. If I had been more of a success maybe she would have wanted a relationship with me.

I devoted my time and energy on the wrong things. I spent two decades doing something that got me nowhere. Now I am empty and alone. I don't have a purpose. I just exist through each day waiting for something disasterous to happen. I can't get over the guilt and regret I feel for wasting half my life on religion. Two family members are gone and I could have had a better relationship with them if I hadn't been so blinded by religious zeal. I feel so angry and cheated by that. The ICOC not only ruined my life but stole my family from me and I can't get that back.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Alone in the world.

As I child I was alone alot. I spent my time at the library reading books after school. Home was not a welcome place for me. My mom and older sister made home a living hell. I would get yelled at for every little thing I did and didn't do. At school I got picked on and made fun of. This occured all through school into high school. I was a loner and didn't have many friends. The one friend I had I sacrificed for what I thought was a chance to be popular. I really regret that now. I wish I could apologize to Tina for that. So I spent my time reading,watching television, and living in a fantasy world.I was very lonely growing up.

Religion was a comfort. The thought that a God was out there somewhere thinking about you and caring for you. Angels were fighting battles for your spiritual welfare. God was looking in on you from birth (Psalm 139). It gave me comfort to believe that someone out there cared. When I found a church that seemed to consist of people who cared I felt like I had hit the lottery. I was no longer alone. I could be myself and my efforts to care for others would be appreciated. I realized twenty years later that I was a statistic and not a lost soul to these people. I did make some life long friends and forged some close relationships but most of them didn't seem to last.

When I left the church I felt that childhood lonliness creep back up into my psyche again. I tried to escape it by ignoring it. I looked to my husband to fill the lonliness but he was depressed too ( for different reasons). Reading books wasn't something that gave me comfort like they used to. I really felt alone and exposed. I felt as if something terrible was going to happen to me or my husband. After all life is full of surprises. What happened before can happen again and usually does. I felt an extreme sense of anxiety and vulnerability. It was hard getting out of bed and leaving my home to go anywhere. I felt angry and betrayed that I had fallen for such a lie as religion.

There was no god watching out for me. No angels are protecting me from harm. Jesus didn't hear my prayers because He'd never existed. If I wanted good things to happen in my life I was to be the one to make them happen. I have to answer my own prayers. When I was alone I was really alone. I had some friends and some family pulling for me but that is it. In this world we need to help and encourage each other and answer each other's prayers.

Feeling lonely is a realistic emotion. We are social creatures. We are raised to seek out other people in relationships. Child molesters know this. They take advantage of a child's innocence and desire to connect to other people. My parents took care of my physical needs but they never took care of my emotional needs. That's why me and my sister were willing marks for the church we joined. We were still looking for that connection with people. We wanted to be loved. The church recognized that need and love bombed us. We were hooked; constantly trying to find the love we didn't get as children.

What I have learned is that it is o.k. to feel lonely. For so long I thought there was something wrong with me. Feeling alone and lonely is natural and doesn't have to be scary. Listening to music, reading, writing, all help me with my lonliness. Staying connected with friends and family also helps the lonliness in my heart.

Now that I am an anthiest I appreciate the human spirit so much more. People overcome adversity in their lives with astonishing strength and force of will. The human spirit can be indomitable and full of positive energy. In my own life being able to work despite my illness was my own personal victory over adversity. To be honest I gave up a few years ago. I just existed and didn't try to forge a new path. I was extremly depressed and discouraged; especially after I was denied disability for the third and last time. I just sat down and waited to be thrown out on the street. It was hard to overcome my feelings of failure.

The last five years have been hard but they are part of my journey in life. I had to experience this depression and lonliness to appreciate the positive things in life. I think writing this blog has helped me put things in perspective. I am able to see the changes I have made since my last manic episode. I am able to take small steps toward feeling better about myself and my future.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Life After God

I became a Christian believer at the tender age of 9. I read the New Testement and immediately fell in love with Jesus. A few years later at the age of 12 I was offered the chance to be baptized but I opted out. I was terrified of going in front of a bunch of people and reveal my faith to the world. I participated in the church youth group until I graduated High School. I was considered to be very spiritual. I remember going to a youth group retreat and praying that I would find genuine Christianity and a real conversion.

My sister was going to a church so after a semester of spiritual backsliding I felt compelled to try it out. I met some girls who were also attending the University of Colorado. I gave one of them my number. She called me and invited me to a Bible talk. I thought it was harmless so I went. Next thing I knew I was studying the Bible with them. I studied for seven months. I was baptized on July 3, 1988. I was really excited. My prayer had been answered. I spent the next 20 years trying really hard to be a good disciple of Jesus. Most of the time I felt like a spiritual failure. Having Bipolar disorder really made hard for me to live up to the demanding standard of discipleship that people in the church taught.

I felt incredibly burdened to spread the Gospel to all creation and be a perfect disciple. It was exhausting. I saw a therapist in 2002 and realized how much the church had damaged me emotionally and spiritualy. The constant "discipling" by people who were over me in the Lord really corrupted my self-esteem. I couldn't go to church for a while. Then I was nagged for not going to church. When I had a panic attack at church I realized this environment was wrong. I was afraid to leave because I didn't want to go to hell. I stayed but my love for God was gone. I no longer believed that he would protect me and take care of me. We went through an eighteen month period of unemployment. We lost the house. We almost ended up on the street except for the help of people in the church and my mother-in-law.

In 2004 I had a severe manic episode. I was in the hospital for two weeks. After I got out I was severely depressed and suicidal. I remained that way for 3 years. During that time going to church became a burden. I hooked up with a forum online that talked about my church. I decided to leave. I still had faith in God, though. After about a year away from the church I began to doubt the existence of God. I began to wonder if my spirituality was connected to my illness. When I was manic I was very religious and spiritual. I could feel the presence of God. When I was depressed I felt that God was condemning me. I just didn't feel God's presence anymore. I began to see the contradictions in God's personality and wondered how on earth was anyone supposed to be able to please such a volatile personality. The concept of hell baffled me too. How can a loving god send most of his creation to hell for not choosing to obey Him or follow Him? It made no sense. I concluded that God did not exist. At least the God that is written about in the Bible,Koran, or Book of Mormon.

I went through a period of sadness and mourning for my faith. I missed praying and being in the fellowship. I was also extremely anxious because I realized there was no God watching over me there were no angels fighting for my safety. I stayed in touch with some friends from my church but I no longer had the same outlook on life they had. They still hoped that what I was going through was a phase and I would repent and return to the church. After a year or so, I began to feel better. The anxiety faded and the sense that I was condemned to hell went away. I began to feel more alive and thankful for the small blessings in life. The idea of heaven was hard to part with especially after my sister died.

I now believe that we are spiritually recycled. Nature recycles everything so why not our souls? Who we are dies with us but a part of us becomes part of another life. I think Evolution is a theory that is still in development and isn't perfect. It is an observation of nature and I accept it as the closest thing we have to what happened to life. Now when I think of the Bible I think it's a nice fictional story. I don't think Jesus ever really existed. He was created by men. So were Mary and the disciples. I think there is a purpose to nature and it is directed somehow by a force of life but that isn't a God necessarily.

I feel better as an atheist than I ever did as a Christian. The guilt and drive to be perfect has melted away into a general feeling of goodwill towards mankind. I don't fear death as it is a natural cycle of life. I still have some anxiety about life but I don't feel suicidal and defeated when I did as a Christian.

I don't think being a Christian was a waste of time. My character was forged in church and I made some lifelong friends. I think there are good things about Christianity I just don't need it in my life at this point.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Glory Days???

My husband was talking about glory days; a reference to a Bruce Springstein song. He asked if I had some glory days of my own. I said no. My past is full of failures. Failure to get a college degree and failure to get and keep a job. I struggled with Bipolar illness for over a decade. I remember having depressions that would last for years. When I felt better I tried to do things but then the depressions would come back. It's been a constant struggle to keep from killing myselft out of pure misery.

It is really hard to get people to understand what a struggle having a mental illness is. I struggle to get out of bed daily. When I was working I strained and forced myself to go to work and be productive. Some days I barely made it. When I was going to school it was the same thing. I had to "beat my body and make it my slave" to quote Paul in the Bible. People didn't see my struggle. My father believed that I was stupid and lazy. He never saw the struggle I made to get a job and live on my own. He was never proud of me. I was a failure in his eyes. He died worried about me and whether I would make it in life. That thought haunts me but there is nothing I can do about it now.

I need to make the most of the present. I need to work on my writing and find a part time job. If I do these things I'll feel better about myself. I need to make the most of each day and try to take some pleasure from it. It's hard for me to think positively and not worry so much about what might happen. I spend a lot time thinking about the bad things that could happen. I also spend a lot time regretting the past. I don't know how I could have changed the things that happened to me because of my illness. I need to move on from the past and focus on the present and future.

Monday, September 14, 2009

Long time no see...

I haven't blogged in a while. I have been drifting from day to day merely existing. I haven't been doing much of anything. I've been trying to sleep at night. Sometimes I sleep, sometimes I do not. I've been worrying about our finances. My student loan is out of deferment and will come due in November. I don't know where the extra money is going to come from. I wish I could make an extra 500 to 1,000 dollars a month to make things easier. I wish I could sleep through the night so I could take on a full or part-time job. That's not going to happen so I need to find a way to work from home. I have no idea how to do that. I thought I could do surveys online but they are a scam. I just don't know what to do. Should I try to look for work again? I have such an old work history. I haven't worked in 9 years. I wish I could find something to do online. So many offers online are scams. I tried to download an e-book about making money online and I couldn't do it. I don't know but I need to do something.

The past nine years just flew by. I did go to school for one year and I had trouble keeping a job for another but I can't tell you what I have been doing for the last nine years. I feel like part of it was recovering from my manic episode in 2004 but I don't know what else I've been doing. I just spend every day waiting for Howard to come home. I really need to do something during the day. Writing seems to be the only thing I can do during the day. I don't know what else to do. I'd like to find something to do online during the day so I can make money and contribute to the household finances. There are just so many scams out there. I don't want to get robbed online like we did a few years back when Howard was looking for a job. I just want to be productive. It's been so long since I have felt like a producing human being. I just feel so useless.

I'm going to work on my stories and teach myself to write screenplays and possibly write a book based on my experience in the ICOC. I'm going to see if surveys online can work but I'm going to have to spend a little money to find that out. I don't know what else to do. I just need to be more productive with my time. I also will try and read a book a week. I will also blog at least every Sunday night. I think doing these things will help me feel better about myself.

Friday, July 10, 2009

Trying to move on....

It's been a while since I have posted a blog. I was depressed for a while. It seemed like time just stopped and I couldn't move on with my life. I considered changing my meds but I don't think I can find anything better than what I have already been on. I am taking lithium and haldol and have for the last five years. I am very tired of my eratic sleep schedule. I stay up all night and nap during the day. It's very hard to endure psychologically. I feel like I am awake all the time and don't get much sleep.It's hard to determine just how much sleep I actually get. I know its less than four hours a day. It concerns me because of the potential of going manic at any time. I deal with alot of anxiety too. I don't like going outside the apartment much. I spend the night worrying and making up worst case scenarios in my head. Some days I am bored out of my mind. I spend alot of time on the computer web surfing. I don't like to read for some reason. I just don't find any pleasure in it anymore. My attention span is very short. I think this is connected to my last manic episode. Somehow my brain got rewired and I came down with insomnia and a lack of desire to read or write. I don't have much knowledge in neuroscience but somehow my brain acts differently now than it did before my last manic episode. I feel different emotionally, I act different, I am not the same person I was before that manic episode.

My husband's health insurance doesn't cover my bipolar because it is a pre-existing condition. This sucks because I have to pay for any mental health treatment out of my own pocket. I can't afford therapy so I just muddle through. It's really frustrating. I really do feel better after I write. I wish I had enough money to devote to painting. I think I would feel better if I could paint oil paintings. I feel trapped in a body that can't produce money for our household. We live paycheck to paycheck. We are two paychecks away from the street. It's very stressful. We don't have a car. Every time we go for groceries I am afraid that we will be hit by a car or something. I'd rather take a cab but my husband insists on taking a cart and hauling the groceries home by hand. It's embarrasing. I really feel poor without a car. It limits what I can do and where I can go. I really need to find a way to make some extra money. My student loans are coming due soon and I don't know how we can afford it. I might be able to keep my student loans deferred under unemployment but I don't know for how long.


I think I could write screenplays and blogs and write articles on different subjects to make money but these things take time. I'm nervous about putting my writing out there for critical review. I also don't want my work stolen by somebody who wanted to take advantage of me. I have a fear of being victimized somehow.

I just need to move on with my life. I feel as if my mental health is as good as its ever going to be. I can't find a cure for my eratic sleep habits so I need to just live with it. I need to become productive creatively just for my sanity if anything else. If I can make money from it that will be gravey.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

My New Normal

It's Sunday, May 2nd. It's a new week and a new month. I need to make some decisions about my life. I have been unemployed for nine years. I tried to go back to school to finish my degree but my illness prevented me from achieving that goal. I tried working from home but,again, my illness got in the way. I don't know what to do. I need to find a way to make a living. I thought I could make money online but there are too many scams out there. I don't want to risk our bank account on a scam. The only thing left is writing. I have never been a writer. I have story ideas but I don't expand on them. I don't know the first thing about making a living as a writer. I feel cornered. I can't work a regular job. I can't finish my degree. The only thing I think I can do is write.

But write what? Screenplays? Novels? I don't know how to write those. How do I make money in the meantime? It's crazy. I feel like I am being set up for failure. I don't know what I should do.
I have attempted to write a book but I don't have enough information to write a whole novel. I might be able write a collection of short stories or a screenplay but I don't think I have a novel in me. I feel so helpless. We have been struggling financially since I quit my job. We filed bankruptcy. We don't have any money in savings. If we had to move or if something happened to my mother we wouldn't be able to do anything. I feel as if the universe has put the ball in my court and I am supposed to do something. If I do nothing then I will lose out.

I used to enjoy writing when I was in school. I enjoyed doing research papers. I wrote a few stories in college. It was fun and enjoyable. Now I look at writing as a chore. I don't want to do it but I feel as if I have no choice. I honestly don't know what else I can do. It seems as if I am being handed an option that I can't refuse. I used to enjoy writing but I stopped doing it. I became depressed and stopped doing the things I enjoyed like reading. I used to read one to two books a week. I stopped reading because I didn't want to use my brain. I stopped writing for the same reason. Maybe I'm being lazy. Writing isn't easy. It's hard. I thought early on that it was easy until I sat down and tried to write.

I don't want to spend the next ten years sitting in front of the t.v. wasting my brain. I want to produce something I can be proud of. I want to make enough money to help my family when they need it. I want to be able to afford a nice place to live and a car. I want to be able to go on vacation when I feel like it and travel to the Carribean and Europe if I feel like it. I want to enjoy life again. If writing can help me do these things then it is worth my effort to try it.

When I used to think of writing a book I thought I had to come up with it fully blown and written my first try. I think that's wrong. Writing is a process and it takes patience and finesse to complete a writing project. I need to take my time and be patient with myself and craft my writing projects carefully.

I just turned forty and I feel as if I have wasted a good portion of my life trying to survive instead of live life to the fullest. It's hard to live life to the fullest when you are poor and are just worried about where you will sleep and what you will eat. I don't want to drift through life and not experience good things because I was too focused on survival. If becoming a writer can help me extract some good things in life then maybe that's what I should be.

Monday, April 20, 2009

God and Mental Illness

When I was nine years old I prayed Jesus into my heart. I read the New Testement and fell in love with Jesus. It was comforting to believe that Jesus was there for me and could hear all my thoughts and prayers. I started praying and reading the Bible when I was nine years old.

As I grew older and became a teenager I found comfort in church. I felt like an outsider in the youth group but I continued to go to church for the comfort. I found comfort in praying and reading my bible. I wanted to get baptized and have a relationship with Jesus. When I was nineteen I was baptized into the International Churches of Christ. I felt like I belonged there. I felt as if I finally had a relationship with Jesus. This gave me great joy and peace within. Then I started to have depressions. I turned to God for comfort but could find none. I became suicidal at times but was afraid of going to hell.

After I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder I felt like a spiritual loser. I felt abandoned by God. I didn't understand why God allowed me to go through such hard times. I felt so alone. I couldn't finish school so I felt like a failure. I had a hard time getting work. When I finally found work it was part time and not enough for me to move out of my father's house. I felt depressed and angry at God. I didn't understand what it was about me that was so bad that I had to go through deep depressions and anxiety. Why do other people thrive and live successful lives? Why couldn't I finsh school? Why was it such a struggle to keep a job? Why didn't my father believe in me?I was so frustrated and alone.

Then I met and married my husband. Finally things were turning around. Then I had to quit my job because I couldn't work anymore. I tried to get on disability but was turned down three times. I felt like such a failure. I couldn't keep a job and I couldn't finish school. I tried to go back to school but my depression would kick in and I would have to drop out. I finally gave up on my dream of finishing school. Where was God? He just left me alone to deal with my illness. I wasn't good enough for Him. I used to love Him so much but something changed. I couldn't go to church anymore. I just felt flatlined emotionally. I didn't have a love for God anymore. Then I began to doubt His existence. I began to feel better not believing in God than believing in Him.

When I was manic I would love God so much. His word would speak to me. I would even hallucinate His voice speaking to me. I would hallucinate His presence. I felt profound joy and love for God. When I was depressed I would struggle with my faith and feel abandoned by God. I would still seek God out , though. I would try to persevere through my depressions and rely on God. Then last year I stopped praying and reading my bible and going to church. I just felt spiritually fatigued. I felt tired in the heart. Believing in a God who would sacrifice His only Son for mankind and then condemn most of that mankind to eternal torment in hell just took too much effort. I still loved the idea of Jesus, though. I began to doubt that Jesus even existed. I began to doubt that the disciples existed.

Now I can truly say that I am no longer a Christian. Is this because of my illness? Maybe. I may be experiencing a new form of depression or emotional flatlining that is a result of taking my medication. I don't know. I just feel different now. I can't pray because what good would it do? I don't feel like reading the Bible because it's message just seems hollow. There are too many contradictions. I tried to live like a disciple for over twenty years. I feel like it was a monumental waste of time. I feel like a fool. God never answered my prayers. My desire for him was only fulfilled when I was manic or hypermanic. Meeting my husband and getting married was a coincidence. We fulfill our own dreams. We make our own desitiny. God has nothing to do with it.

Living With Insomnia

I have not been able to sleep through the night in five years. I usually stay up all night and sleep sometime during the day. I probably sleep an average of three to four hours a day. I find this very frustrating because it keeps me from being able to get a regular job. I have to find a way to make money from home because I can't work regular day hours. Not having a job is really frustrating because I have a lot of free time. We also struggle financially and that is also frustrating. I have decided to try my hand at surveys online and screenwriting. I can't start surveys online until May because of our financial situation.

Not being able to sleep is a trial psychologicaly. I find myself full of anxiety because I spend alot of time worrying about things that might happen. It's really hard because I don't feel normal anymore. My husband is the opposite. He can't get enough sleep. He works early in the morning and gets sleepy around eight o'clock at night. He goes to bed alone and I stay up at night. I hang out online or I watch a movie or two. I don't like to read late at night. I don't know why. I just don't have any desire to read anymore. Sometimes I go to bed just because I am tired of being awake. Sometimes I sleep and sometimes I do not.

Being awake most of the time is lonely. I can't call people late at night or early in the morning. If I post a comment on a forum it disapears after a few hours because nobody is reading it. I hate chat rooms. I can't watch videos because I have dial-up. The only thing I do online is search for information and read the news. I feel so alone most of the time. I hate going places by myself because I feel more alone than if I stay home.

I feel that my insomnia is related to my bipolar disorder. It started after my last manic episode five years ago. During my stay in the hospital I noticed that I couldn't sleep more than an hour or two at a time. Then when I got home I noticed that I would stay up all night. A couple of times I went to the emergency room because I thought I was having a manic episode. Then I realised that I was getting sleep just not at night. I can't afford a doctor to look into this. It's very frustrating. When I tried to get disability I told the judge that I had severe insomnia and couldn't hold a day job. When I got jury duty I told them the same thing. They dismissed me. I don't know why I couldn't persuade that disability judge.

Having insomnia is like being awake all the time. The sleep that I do get is so erratic that I feel as if I haven't slept at all. I get really frustrated because I can't know how much I sleep. I think it's about three to four hours a day. It might be more than that, I don't know. I know I dream so I figure that to dream would take at least an hour. I have two to three dreams a day so that's about three to four hours of sleep a day ,I think. I envy my husband who can sleep through the night. I just want to be normal. I don't know what I can do. I also think my thyroid might be a contributing factor in all this. I might be going through menapause too. I just can't afford alot of medical tests and bills right now. It's really frustrating but our health insurance doesn't cover much. If I get alot of blood work done it could cost over $200. We just can't afford that right now.

Having insomnia also kills my mood. I feel depressed more often. I just feel as if I am living in a bubble and everybody is walking past me. It's hard to describe. I don't feel normal like there is something wrong with me. It's hard to accept this as my new normal even though it has been five years. I can't believe it's been that long. I used to sleep alot. Sleep was my way of escaping the anxieties of my life. Since I can't rely on sleep like I used to I am much more anxious. I'm worried about my health. I worry that the insomnia might get chronic and that I could have a heart attack or stroke. I worry that I might start hallucinating or have another manic episode. I wish I could get some answers but they are out of my reach right now.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Sexuality and Mental Illness

I was introduced to sex at the ripe old age of seven. Some neighborhood kids starting playing sexual games and used me as a pawn. They were twelve and thirteen and introduced me to sex and masturbation. My mother was clueless as always in her absentee parenting. Learning how to masturbate at such an early age was crucial in how I viewed my sexuality as I turned into a teenager. I thought sex was "nasty" and felt guilty for having sexual drives. It took years for me to realize that I was sexually molested by those kids. The guilt and hurt I felt I kept to myself. Masturbation was a way for me to release the stress and self-loathing I felt as I grew into adulthood. I became addicted to masturbation in my teen years. I would feel sexual drives just before my menstrual cycle and during menstruation. I didn't understand why I would feel these sexual urges and why they happened every month. I just kept it a secret. I told noone.

When I became a Christian at nineteen years old I learned that masturbation was a sin. I had to confess it and try not to give in to temptation. I felt such shame and self-loathing for having such sexual urges. I felt like a pervert. I even prayed that I wouldn't get married until I overcame such nastiness. Years later, I felt that I had conquered my sexual drives and addiction to masturbation. I felt that I could marry with a clear conscience.

Then during the first six months of my marriage I felt frustrated because I couldn't have an orgasm with my husband. I knew I could orgasm by myself but I felt uncomfortable around my husband. Eventually I did orgasm and had regular sex with my husband. Then in 2003 my husband lost his job and health insurance coverage. I couldn't get medication. I was depressed that whole year. I stopped wanting sex. Then in 2004 I had a manic episode. During those two weeks I became hypersexual and had intense sexual urges and fantasies. I didn't cheat on my husband but I felf like I did because of the intense sexual fantasies. Then after I left the hospital I was intensly depressed. I was so depressed I didn't want sex with my husband. My husband said we went a year without sex. I just don't remember.

Now we have sex every few months. I want to have sex but my husband but he is not interested. I thing he has been hurt by my rejection too many times. I don't feel as depressed as I was but now I feel emotionally flatlined. I don't feel intense emotion. I feel some anxiety because of the global financial situation but I don't feel deep emotions. Even when my sister died I didn't cry or feel deep sadness or a sense of loss. My husband says I frown alot. He likes it when I smile. He thinks my laugh is sexy. I don't know what to do. Maybe I should change my medication or get checked out for hormonal imbalance.

When a person with bipolar disorder experiences depression the libido disapears. In contrast, when a person with bipolar disorder experiences mania or hypermania they experience intense sexual urges. Depending on the manic episode a person could act on their urges and do some real harm to permanent relationships. I never cheated on my husband but I'm sure that has happened to people with bipolar disorder. I'm sure there are marital situations that were harmed by a person's lack of libido also. I know my marriage has suffered from my lack of sexual desire. I want to change that by being considerate of my husband and have regular sex with him even if I don't feel like it. I can always talk myself into the right mood. It just takes a little foreplay and music and I'm there.

I still feel so guilty when I engage in sex. It's like I feel as if God is watching me and for me to enjoy sex is bad. It means I'm a nasty girl. Remember that song? It was by Vanity. "Do you think I'm a nasty girl?" Anyway, I don't know exactly how to get over the guilt I feel when I have sexual urges. I just want to react normally and without guilt to sexual pleasure whether it's initiated by my husband or myself.

As far as hypersexuality goes while in the midst of a manic or hypermanic epsisode goes I really need to see that it is a symptom of an illness and not indicative of my character or my commitment to my husband. I also need to see my lack of libido when I am depressed as a symptom of my illness and not a commentary on my feelings for my husband. I still love my husband either way and I am committed to the relationship.

There's just alot of guilt that I need to get rid of. Guilt for having a libido, guilt for not having one. I feel a tremendous amount of guilt either way. I feel like a bad wife for putting my husband through the wringer of my illness. It's really hard for him to deal with and I know he feels frustrated and angry because of it. I want things to be different between us. I don't want my illness to destroy my marriage.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Suicide and Suicidal Thoughts

My big brother was 19 when he commited suicide. I was six years old. He was in prison for assault. I learned later that he was sentenced to five years in prison. If he'd lived he probably would have been out of prison in two or three years. My cousin told me he wrote her saying that he'd been raped while in prison. I guess he couldn't bear existing in such a violent place. My brother was a tough guy, yet prison got the best of him.

I remember my brother as a good student athelete. He was on the football team. He graduated with good grades. I remember being scared of him, though. I was his annoying kid sister. He didn't have much patience for me. He would pull pranks on me sometimes or tell me things that weren't true. I remember him argueing with my mother alot. I learned later that he would smoke pot with my cousin alot. He smoked alot of pot. I don't know the details of his arrest and conviction. My mother used to keep clippings from the newspaper but I don't know what happened to them.

My brother was often very depressed and angry. I think he was just discovering the prospects he had as a black man in the seventies. He would make nooses out of my jump rope. He was trying very hard to make sense out of his life. I think he would have turned out fine if he hadn't gotten involved with the wrong kind of people. He was thinking about death already so it didn't surpise me when he killed himself. My sister felt that he was going to hell. I don't believe in hell anymore so his death has taken on a different meaning for me. I think he just didn't want to be gang raped for five years. I also think he probably knew that prison would change him into someone he didn't want to be.

Death scares me. Coming from a religious background suicide was never an option. I feared hell more than death. During my depressions I have often been suicidal. My first attempt had me burning down my apartment. That got me in jail for two weeks. I was convicted of arson and given two years probation. That experience nixed alot of my desires to kill myself by harming other people's property. I made a contract with myself that I would never harm myself. That and the fear of hell has kept me alive. I have often felt like dying but I realized that killing myself only hurts those who love me and want to help me. I think my brother felt alone and frightened of his future in prison. I don't think he was given any hope for surviving. That and being depressed already made a perfect storm of suicidal emotion.

I don't talk about my brother because it's just too depressing. When I started to feel suicidal I thought of him alot. His death devestated my mother and she still hasn't quite gotten over it. I think his death shocked her. I don't think she realized just how down he was feeling. When someone commits suicide it's always a shock to those closest to that person. Again the way this country stigmatizes suicide has alot to do with that. People don't take suicidal people seriously. They don't think they will go through with it. They think the person is just trying to get attention. They think the person is going through a faze and will get over it. They think that the suicidal person needs to snap out of it and stop being so selfish. These are dangerous things to think. Always take a suicidal person seriously and get them the help that they need.

When I was suicidal I would tell people and they would try to help me or get me the help I needed. That was important. When my husband was unemployed I was suicidal alot but I kept it to myself because I knew we couldn't afford me going to the hospital. We didn't have health insurance so I felt like I had to soldier on. I stayed indoors and rarely talked. Looking back I could have contacted someone and maybe I could have gotten on medication. During these tough economic times I'm afraid there is going to be alot of people who will try to battle suicidal thoughts on their own and end up killing themselves instead of getting the help they need.

Since I don't believe in hell anymore the thing that would keep me alive would be my husband and my family and friends. Death still scares me. It's an end and I don't know if there is life after death anymore. It makes me want to live life to the full and really make the most of each day.
In this case fear was helpful in keeping me alive. Fear of hell,fear of death,fear of the unknown really kept me from harming myself seriously.

Suicide should not be an option no matter how bad life gets. We are tougher than we give ourselves credit for. Overcoming adversity is something human beings are good at. I think my brother could have overcome his circumstance but he wasn't given any options. I hope he found peace.

Childhood Mental Illness

Looking back on my childhood and teen years I can see the warning signs of a mental illness. If my mother had been a little more vigilant she could have gotten me and my sister help and could have avoided future heartache.

The first time I was depressed was at age 9. I didn't want to wash myself and get dressed. I was very melancholy and down emotionally. It lasted most of time I was nine years old. My mother thought I was being rebellious and lectured me harshly. I wish she could have taken me to the doctor and maybe I would have gotten some help. The second time I was depressed was when I turned 15. I nearly flunked out of school. I was very depressed. I wasn't suicidal but it was hard for me to get up and go to school each day. Math and science classes were very confusing. I just couldn't get it. I didn't know what was wrong with me. Again my mother was clueless. I don't even think she realized how close I came to flunking out of school or repeating the 10th grade. I think I barely made it through somehow. My teachers didn't seem to care either. They saw that I was doing poorly but didn't let my mother know or didn't seem to care. I think my sister had early signs too in her childhood and teen years but she was so quiet most of the time I think my mother thought no news is good news. I felt very lonely during this period. I was lonely most of my childhood and teen years. I wasn't popular and was used to alot of teasing by other students. I just put my head down and tried to get an education. I liked learning for the most part ; especially writing. I read alot and had an active fantasy life. If my mother or teachers had noticed the difference in my grades and behaviour maybe I would have gotten some help.

My mother was raising the three of us on her own and didn't have many resources. I think that there should be a way to integrate a program in school to ferret out kids who are depressed. Doing a quick survey and targeting the students who make the most alarming answers could help. Informing parents and teachers of the warning signs of severe depression could also help. I think it's difficult because teenagers tend to be moody and depressed. It's difficult to ferret out the really severe cases. Even doing a day where mental illness is talked about would help, I think.

Mentall Illness is stigmatized severely in this country. Depression and suicide is rarely talked about among young people. This should change. Suicide prevention should be a priority in middle and high schools. When Columbine happened there was alot talked about as far as kids who get teased and bullied. Not much has changed since then. Oprah had a day where high school kids talked about their feelings and struggles with teasing and bullying. I think schools should have days like that at least once or twice a year. I think if this had happened when I was in school I would have reached out for help and not felt like I had to endure what I was feeling.

You see, I was told not to complain. We didn't have much. Sometimes we couldn't afford toilet paper and deoderant. It was very tough. If I complained I was acting spoiled. I was told to shut up and put up. I was told not to ask for more than what I needed. I was treated like a burden instead of a joy. I always felt that if I spoke up I was making trouble. It didn't occur to me to talk about my depressions. I didn't realize how depressed I was until after I pulled out of it. Then my sister experienced severe depression and had her first manic episode. She was hospitalized for a while and went on medication. I was in denial thinking that my problem wasn't the same as my sister's. I didn't want to have a mental illness, especially when I saw her struggles. I never dreamed that I would experience the same struggles.

I think parents should talk to their kids and be there for them. They should tell their kids that it's o.k. to be open with their feelings. Parents should not just accept silence as a sign that things are going alright. So many parents are shocked at a child's suicide or violent behaviour because they just didn't talk to their kids.

I worry about my other sister's kids. The three older kids seem to be doing alright. The younger five are still growing. I think at least one of these kids may suffer from mental illness. Mental illness is hereditary. My sister does have mild symptoms of bipolar disorder. She gets hypomanic and she gets depressed. She has never been on medication and self medicates. If I told her she was bipolar she would be insulted. She is in total denial when it comes to her kids possibly having a mental illness. I don't know how to connect to the kids because I don't talk to them. After my older sister died they came to town last year but that's the last time I saw them.

I hope my sister will be involved with her children enough to know when there's a problem. She homeschools the younger kids so maybe being around them alot will give her a head's up if there is something wrong. I just think she is in denial about the possibility of one or more of her kids developing a mental illness. This kind of blinders given our family medical history is dangerous to have. She could miss the early signs that I described earlier and not be able to head off a serious mental illness.

Living with mental illness

I am 40 years old and was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder when I was 22. I have been living with this illness for almost half my life. It has been a real roller coaster ride. I am now living at home with my husband of 13 years. I am unable to work right now and haven't for nine years. I tried to get on Social Security Disability but was denied three times. That's the nutshell of it but there is so much I would like to say about my experiences. I have learned alot over the years and I have experienced things that most people don't get to go through in their lifetimes. There are so many issues related to mental illness that I also would like to discuss. The mental healthcare system in this country is broken. I don't know how it can be fixed but talking about the shortfalls of the mental health care system in the country is a start.

My older sister also had Bipolar Disorder and was on disabiltiy for most of her adult life. She died partially as a result of the broken mental health care system in this country. I would like to have her story told as well. She was a good person with a bad disability. She tried hard to live a good life and to find happiness. To some extent she did find some happiness even with her situation.
Her faith was her strength and comfort. I'm glad she finally found peace.

Living with mental illness in this country is extremely difficult. The healthcare system is broken and people with mental illness fall through the cracks. If you don't have a job and are homeless you are screwed. I have lived just one paycheck away from being homeless. It's a terrifying thought. I need to be on medication but I have gone without when my husband was unable to find work for 18 months in 2003 . We lost the house and I finally had a severe breakdown as a result of not being able to afford medication. When my husband finally found work I was able to get back on medication. There are so many people out there who have lost jobs and are wondering how they are going to pay for their medication. I think the number of folks out there who end up in the hospital because they can't get their medication is going to rise significantly. The toll on the general health care system is going to reach a breaking point.

I think that people with mental illnesses have to have a certain amount of strength to endure each day. I find that people underestimate the kind of will it takes to face each day with a mental illness. Even with a medication that works there are still symptoms that persist. On top of that there are scars that have developed from each breakdown and regrets and feelings of low self-esteem because of the illness. I came to admire my sister for going through the struggles she went through during her life. Her ability to face each day with optimism touched my heart. I wish people could see the strength and beauty of spirit that people with mental illnesses have and how difficult it is to face each day. When I was working I struggled mightily to get up and go to work each day. Some days were worse than others but I felt I had to go to contribute to the household economy. When I had a breakdown and was unable to work anymore I felt so ashamed. I felt as if I had let my husband down because I couldn't work anymore. I tried to work form home but even that was too difficult. I felt like a failure. I tried to go back to school to finish my degree but I had another breakdown. I couldn't go to school anymore after that.

I've only had three breakdowns in my life but they have been so severe that it has taken me years to recover from them. My last manic episode was in 2004. I was in the hospital for 2 weeks. It has taken me all this time to recover from that one. The other ones were in 1992 and 2000. It took me 2 years each to recover from those. That doesn't mention the numerous times I was severely depressed. I haven't been hospitalized for my depressions but they have been serious enough that I probably should have been hospitalized.

When I applied for SSDI for the third time I used a lawyer. I tried to get the judge to see that I needed to be on disability because my illness had gotten worse. He argued that I was fine with medication and could do menial work. It was very hurtful and frustrating to get that denial. Now we have been living paycheck to paycheck on just one income. We don't have a car and we dread either of us getting sick or hurt. There's just enough money to live on. I feel betrayed by my government. I worked ten years and paid into social security. I should have gotten it when I needed it the most. I think the SSDI system is also broken when if denies people who really need it. With budget cuts the way they are more people are going to be denied disability when they need it.

These are just a few things I have touched on but will talk more about as I continue this blog.