As I sit here and type this, it's after 3 a.m. and I feel horrendously nervous. But then I’ve felt this way for over 4 months now. When I think back it’s actually been longer than that but it’s as far back as I can recall recently.
In July of 2002 my world as I knew it came crashing down. My life changed drastically as I found myself I the hospital after self-harming. Then came the depression, the anxiety … a diagnosis of bi-polar disorder and before I knew it fast forward 5 years and I find myself in the hospital again, wanting to feel better, desperately trying to convince the doctors that the Invega they have me on isn’t making me better, it’s making me worse. Finally, the hospital psychiatrist suggests Abilify with Prozac and my life goes back to normal. I come off the meds but still feeling like a million bucks. I move away, prioritize my life, go back to my husband and then my grandmother dies. This sends me over the edge again and before I know it a diagnosis of ADHD is handed to me along with a prescription for Adderall. I leave my husband again, this time for good, find an amazing man and low and behold it’s been 5 years since my last breakdown.
Then the poo hits the fan again. I’m seeing a horrible pattern. I’m okay for 5 years and then BAM, it hits me again. This time it came back with a vengeance. I can’t sleep, my chest hurts, I feel nervous all the time, my tummy is always upset, I cry at random times and if I’m not crying, I’m complaining about how much I don’t want to do this anymore, I need help but no one hears me. I’m by no means suicidal, I’m just frustrated is all. I get diagnosed with PMDD since my anxiety and depression are worse during my menstrual cycle. However, this isn’t enough for me. I’m put on Birth Control Pills expecting that hormones will help me. I’ve been through the EKGs, the EEGs, stress tests and heart caths. I’ve been through the “yes you have random PVCs but it’s nothing to worry about” speech from the cardiologist and emergency room doctors.
Then how come no one can fix me? Am I going to the wrong people? I’m scared to death of psychiatrists after the last one I had nearly killed me with the wrong kind of medication. I’m scared that I’ll die young, leaving my new husband and kids alone. As I type this, I feel a sense of relief knowing that there are others like me who are going through the same thing but I can no longer accept that this is okay. I want to feel better. I want to go back to being an author. I want to write again. I feel like everything has come crashing down on me at once and for the moment I’m away from my rock, my salvation, my husband who helps me through this and reminds me that I’m okay. He lost his job and as a way to make things easier on us, I moved to my parent’s house to find a job two hours away from him. I’m scared, lonely and I just want to feel better.
Is that too much to ask?
