Monday, August 26, 2013

The End

I started this blog, over three years ago to cope with my bipolar diagnosis. Since then I have realized that the doctors most likely misdiagnosed me. They put me on many unnecessary medications. So many in fact, there is damage to my brain. I am missing many events from my memory bank, and what I do remember I look back and say “That was me?” It was like I had a fresh start after what I now call my nervous breakdown. My divorce was like a weight off my shoulders. We should have parted ways before we were married, but I was too afraid. I felt like I was trapped. Part of me felt like I owed him to stay in the relationship, even though I was unhappy. Another part of me tried to logically reason: We had a house, and without him as the other half of this financial entity I would be poor. I had a car, some trinkets, but at the moment of my breakdown, I had no money and barely a job. All of this could have been prevented. I could have grown some balls, got some real therapy. A Psychiatrist is not a good idea. I was on 6 different medications, and had a plethora of benzos, which oddly enough were the only type of drug that worked, even though I abused them. Popping more then I needed mixing valium and klonopin, drinking on top of that. My anxiety and stress were the problem. That is why I was depressed. The anti-depressants made me go manic and act without provocation. Just right off my rocker, flying into the night without a care. The anti-psychotics are even worse. I never took Abilify cause I knew a friend who took that and said it was like living in a nightmare. So I was taking Invega, a newer drug. I couldn't think for a month. You know inner dialogue? It was impossible for me to do it. Can you imagine that? Vivid nightmares that were realistic, and not to mention all these drugs made me depersonalized and sex, well, that was almost impossible. What I have learned from this experience is that if your depressed, figure out why. Be honest with yourself, talk to others, get a therapist. Working it out will save you money and brain cells. If you truly have bipolar disorder, medications might help, but the best is learning how to control yourself, recognize when you start to feel a certain way and try to counter act that. When I realize I am being depressed, I regulate my sleep and try to stay motivated. When I'm manic I tend to steer clear of alcohol, and remind myself that my wallet does have bottom. Don't try to kill yourself. State run mental hospitals are worse then death. I don’t condone suicide, but If you are going to do it, actually do it, cause seriously... I was almost raped and was sexually assaulted while in this hospital. It was a nightmare experience, and a wake up call. You don't have to hit rock bottom to realize you need change in your life. The most important thing I learned is don't be afraid of change. Change is inevitable. People are going to get hurt. You're going to get hurt. It happens. Don't be afraid of anything, except maybe heights and spiders. Jump in, take risks, all that cheesy bullshit. Don't be afraid to say no, or admit your not happy. It's ok to not be happy, we don’t have to be happy all the time, just remember that.

2 comments:

  1. Hi Stevie--I'm a journalist writing about misdiagnosis of bipolar, so your blog interests me greatly, and I'd love to talk with you. You can reach me at paula_derro@msn.com.

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  2. Oops--got my email wrong--misstyped--it's paula_derrow@msn.com.

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