One day as I was driving my car I had a severe panic attack and almost passed out behind the wheel. This scary event led me to believe that I was destined to die on that day by a knife. I sat in my car for fear that I would be attacked by knives if I opened the front door to my house. After about 3 hours my husband came home to find me trembling and sweating profusely in my car and decided to take me to the ER. I still couldn't tell him what I was thinking because he would have had me committed, well that's what I thought. Eventually I found a psychiatrist to treat me, but I was fearful of him and was afraid of being put away in some rat infested "insane asylum." 1 month later I broke down and felt I could trust my doctor enough to "spill my guts." My doc was very understanding and suggested a night or two in the hospital, an ok hospital. Not anything like "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest."
After that first hospitalization I ended up back in the hospital approximately 25 times over a span of 11 years. The first diagnosis was Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome, which I knew was wrong. Then the diagnosis of major depression hit me and finally I have been diagnosed with A-typical Rapid- Cycling Bi-Polar disease. What a mouthful!
In the middle of this insanity I got pregnant and had to go off all of my medication, as a precaution for my unborn child. Towards the end of my pregnancy I became suicidal, depressed, overwhelmed, psychotic and hopeless. I was admitted back into the hospital for 2 weeks and started taking a low dose antidepressant, against my better judgement. My baby was fine, but I was a complete wreck! I experienced post partum psychosis, which was quite scary and disconcerting. It took four weeks for my meds to kick in again and I was back to being in a pretty good state of mind, for a while. The thing with this awful disease is that it never goes away; it can get better and feel like it is gone at times, but it really isn't ever gone.
So now here I am: 11 years have passed since my first "episode" and I am surviving as best as I can. My marriage didn't last, but I am not taking all the blame for that dissolvement. My child is doing well and so am I and am in love with a very understanding man, who is willing to accept all of my "demons."
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