I was 46 yrs old before I received my first diagnosis of bi-polar. I
hated that label but couldn't deny it either. Having worked for the local
Head Start program for 19 yrs I found it impossible to believe. Working
with mental health professionals, one would have thought they could have
picked it out right away. I had been in therapy for 10 months before
this diagnosis. Things were very bad in October 1998 for me. The new
supervisor I had carried resentment for me for many years. We clashed in
every way possible. The stress just piled up and up both at work and at
home. Home life meant dealing with an alchoholic abusive spouse for 27
yrs. October 9,1998 I decided life wasn't worth the pain it caused and
took an overdose. I was home alone---my husband was out on the job, my
17 yr old was spending the weekend with friends. He came home to find me
out on 51 xanax. He took me to the emergency room. They pumped my
stomach and I refused to go into the treatment place. On the 12th, I
called my therapist and said two words "HELP ME" She said for me to hang
on she would as fast as she could. I ended up in the locked ward. As
soon as I realized I was locked up, I wanted out. Being trained as a
social worker, I knew the game to play and I played it well. 4 days
later I was released. In telling my supervisor what was going on and my
hospitalization gave him the fuel he needed. On 11-10-98, I was fired from
a job I held for 19 yrs. My whole world collapsed around me. I took
everyone in my family to hell with me. With the holidays upon me, I
managed to act my way thru them. March arrived and no one could stand
the strain any longer. After an abusive bout with my alchoholic spouse, I
took every pill I had to take....somehow, I managed to drive myself the
60 miles to the hospital. I don't remember even getting in the truck, let
alone how I drove myself. I almost succeeded in ending my life this
time. I came to long enough to hear the doctor saying code blue and then
remember getting zapped to start the heart beats normally.
Why this happened to me? I don't know. I had a happy childhood with some
sadness but nothing to cause this. My biological mother died of lung
cancer when I was 8. She was in the hospital for 6 months prior to her
death. Dad remarried to the kindest, wonderful woman in the world. I
still call her mom to this day.
Right now I am fighting the good fight
"...ever and always, always and ever, no one can promise a dream come
true. Time gave both darkness and dreams to you."
Anon