From Despair to Happiness: The Difference a Few Months Can Make!

5 months ago, I was a patient in the psychiatric unit at Saint Joseph's Medical Center recovering from a suicide attempt; a lithium overdose that landed me in the medical unit for a few days followed by the psychiatric unit. 5 months ago, I wanted to die. I saw no other way out than taking my own life. I took 70+, 300 mg Lithium capsules. A dosage for me at that time was 4 capsules a day. My lithium level tested at nearly 3 times the toxic level when I arrived at the E.R. on the afternoon of July 31, 2014. I survived for a reason unknown to me. I stopped taking the lithium capsules and texted my supervisor who drove me to the hospital. I don’t know for sure what made me stop and ask for help. Maybe it was all of the calls and texts I was receiving from people saying they care. I may not have responded to any of them but they likely played a large role in why I decided to give life another shot. At that time, I couldn’t see life ever being worthwhile. Dying seemed like the best and the only option. I hated myself and I hated the world. I couldn’t imagine ever being happy. I couldn’t even imagine ever feeling any better than totally miserable and hopeless.

Tonight, 5 months later, I look around my apartment, as I sit on the couch in the living room, watching reruns of New Girl. Caesar is snoring on the couch next to me. Diesel is in the Ikea Poang chair, taking a cat nap. Tonight, I feel lucky. Tonight, I feel grateful. Tonight, I am happy I am alive and that something stopped me from continuing to take that lithium overdose. Tonight, I am grateful to have had friends and family that insisted on making sure I knew they cared while I was at my worst. Tonight, I am grateful for having a supervisor who drove to my house, picked me up, and took me to the hospital. I am incredibly happy with where I am in life right now.

Life has been nothing short of exhausting this last year between my mom’s health concerns and my mental health among other things. However, I feel like I have been able to tremendously grow as a person over the past few months. I’m not a fan of the phrase “everything happens for a reason” but I can honestly say I have grown as a person and have learned so much in the months following my suicide attempt. It definitely wasn’t  easy at the time for anyone involved but it allowed me to grow. It helped me become more attuned to my personal needs and has helped me to appreciate what I have. I don’t have everything, my bank account could certainly look better, I still struggle to get out of bed some days, I could stand to lose some weight, and sometimes I let little things bother me too much but I’m happy! I’m truly happy! I’ve realized things don’t have to be perfect and I don’t have to have everything to be happy. I love my job, I have a beautiful apartment, I have an amazing family, my mom is in remission (wahoo), I have incredible friends, I have the sweetest nephews in the world, I have my 2 adorable fur children, I love my new car, and getting out of bed is not a chore (at least not most of the time)! What I went through over this past year has truly helped me appreciate what I do have in life instead of focusing on what I don’t have. I love who I have become and I am incredibly proud of how much I have grown since getting out of the hospital in August.

Thank you to everyone who has supported me along the way. It means the world to me. I wouldn’t be where I am today without the amazing support I have had throughout my entire journey.

#SuicideIsNotADirtyWord

Here is the story of another one of my readers...

The following is a story of one of my readers.  I have posted two previously from other readers in the recent weeks.  I am hoping to continue to post more stories of readers soon. I have a couple waiting to be posted but would like to post as many as possible.  If you would like to share your story with me, so that I can in turn share it with my readers please e-mail me at KissingStigmaGoodbye@gmail.com! Your story will be posted completely anonymously and I copy and paste stories exactly as they are sent to me.  I look forward to hearing from you! ~Sara~

I am a 39 year old twice divorced single mother.  I had my first inpatient stay for depression and anorexia when I was 17.  I spent 2 months in the hospital that time.  I think I was 22 when I had my first "bad" manic episode, although in retrospect, I had been having hypo-manic episodes all along, they just hadnt been recognized as such until then.  I also started having panic attacks around that time, so diagnosis was changed from depression to bipolar, and panic disorder was added.  Between the ages of 23 and 30 things evolved and changed back and forth between bipolar and schizoaffective disorder, as I have a psychotic feature that is inconsistent, but not just when I am manic.  Also, as the panic attacks got worse and worse, my world got smaller and smaller, and I became agoraphobic.  For two years I barely left my house, I didnt even check my own mail.  Then through therapy, I gradually started venturing out again.  First it was just to the front door, then the mailbox, then to the sidewalk, then the end of the lawn, then the corner...now I go most places, as long as I can get there without driving in heavy traffic or on the highway.  Driving on roads that I am unfamiliar with is still very difficult for me. Somewhere over the past 6 years, doctors have looked at accumulated medical records and decided that it wasnt enough to waffle between bipolar and schizoaffaffective, they thought it would be fun to throw borderline personality disorder into the pot.  I was resistant to this one for a while.  This one felt like more of a label, and felt like it came with more of a stigma.  The books I bought to learn about it talked about "to tell or not to tell"  and "when to share that I have this".   Made it feel like even the writers of the books knew it was some awful secret that I shouldnt share with my loved ones.  I hadnt encountered that as much when reading books about depression, bipolar, or panic disorder.  And the recommended treatment?  DBT, or dialectic behavioral therapy.  This wasnt just sitting in a therapist's office talking about my problems, this was what everyone warned me right off was going to be HARD WORK.  And I wanted nothing to do with it.    So for 4 years I declined DBT.  Then I decided to do it.  In 3 weeks I finish a 9 month intensive program, and while it certainly hasnt "fixed" me, it has given me an incredible number of skills to deal with whats broken in the first place.  Its a start.

Here is the story of another one of my readers...

The following is a story of one of my readers.  I posted one from another reader a couple of weeks ago.  I am hoping to continue to post more stories of readers soon.  If you would like to share your story with me, so that I can in turn share it with my readers please e-mail me at  KissingStigmaGoodbye@gmail.com! Your story will be posted completely anonymously.  I look forward to hearing from you! ~Sara~

As a teenager, I was a nice, happy, and energetic girl. I truly was standing on top of the world. I was an excellent student, an over-achiever, and ran my mouth a lot. I didn't get into much trouble, though. I really could do anything I wanted with minimal consequences, or so I believed. I started being sexually active when I was 15. (I say this only to highlight my symptoms). I was full of life and could do no wrong. The saying "anything you can do, I can do better" fits that point in my life. People would say, "There's the weird girl", and I just didn't care.

When I was in a depressed mood, I would cut myself. Not because I wanted to die, I just wanted to relieve my internal pain. It was a lot easier to deal with the physical pain than the emotional pain. I have a number of scars from doing it. My biggest and last scar was about 3 inches long, going down about half an inch to an inch. That one was the one that "woke" me up to the danger I was putting myself in. Had it been my wrist, I could have died. The urge is still there, but I made a deal with my husband (type on diabetes), I would work harder at taking care of myself if he would do the same. Plus, I don't like having to try and explain it to my nieces and nephews, and I want to see them grow up.

I live mostly with mania. Which I think is great, most of the time. I love feeling happy and on top of the world. But, by being such, I have wrecked my credit beyond belief. A foreclosure on my home, a repossessed car, loans, credit card debt. I have had hallucinations and delusions, which can be scary at times. And I've said things that have hurt other people's feelings. And panic attacks and anxiety always comes along eventually. I still get the feeling of being better than others. I have trouble sleeping and then end up needing a nap to get through the rest of the day. I still wouldn't ever trade the mania for depression, though.

I have found that writing, jewelry making and sketching helps focus the hundreds of thoughts going through my head in the same direction. I consider myself lucky. I have family and friends that all know about my illness and are supportive. I know others may not be so lucky. And I remind myself, no matter how bad it gets, I will get through it. I have learned a lot about myself and my bipolar, and am always learning something new. I've gotten a little better at asking for help, but I always remind myself that I am the first line of defense in keeping myself my own sort of "sane".

Winston Churchill

Winston Churchill was born on November 30, 1874 to a family that had both a history of political prominence as well as a history of mental illness. When Churchill was appointed Prime Minister of Britain he changed the political strategy.  His view of the realistic threat of Germany during WWII was attributed to the way he thought as a result of his mental illness. 

Psychiatrist Anthony Storr described Churchill’s reaction the Germany in the following way:

“Only a man who knew what it was to discern a gleam of hope in a hopeless situation, whose courage was beyond reason and whose aggressive spirit burned at its fiercest when he was hemmed in and surrounded by enemies, could have given emotional reality to the words of defiance which rallied and sustained us in the menacing summer of 1940.”-Anthony Storr

Storr was also quoted saying:

“Had Winston Churchill been a stable and equable man, he could never have inspired the nation. In 1940, when all the odds were against Britain, a leader of sober judgment might well have concluded that we were finished”. - Anthony Storr

Winston Churchill called his Bipolar Disorder, his black dog.  He didn’t given into his black dog at all, instead he used it to his advantage which I find to be very admirable. Below you will find some notable quotes by Winston Churchill.  Not only was he a politician but he was a great writer as well. Winston Churchill died in 1965 at the age of 90 as a result of a stroke. Read a more in depth biography of him here: NAMI Winston Churchill Biography

Winston Churchill Quotes:

I don't like standing near the edge of a platform when an express train is passing through. I like to stand right back and if possible get a pillar between me and the train. I don't like to stand by the side of a ship and look down into the water. A second's action would end everything. A few drops of desperation.

 

You have enemies? Good. That means you've stood up for something, sometime in your life.

If you're going through hell, keep going.

Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.

A pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty.

Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen.

Continuous effort - not strength or intelligence - is the key to unlocking our potential.

Never, never, never give up.

Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm.

History is written by the victors.

History will be kind to me for I intend to write it.

It is a mistake to look too far ahead. Only one link of the chain of destiny can be handled at a time.

Kites rise highest against the wind - not with it.

We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.

Healthy citizens are the greatest asset any country can have.

I am always ready to learn although I do not always like being taught.

Difficulties mastered are opportunities won.

Let our advance worrying become advance thinking and planning. 

 -Kissing Stigma Goodbye-

 

Here is the story of one of my readers...

The following is a story of one of my readers.  I am hoping to post more stories of readers soon.  If you would like to share your story with me, so that I can in turn share it with my readers please e-mail me at KissingStigmaGoodbye@gmail.com! Your story will be posted completely anonymously.  I look forward to hearing from you! -Sara-

I was 19 years old when I first began to experience symptoms of bipolar.  I knew something was wrong with me at the time but didn’t want to believe it.  When I would cycle out of a hypomanic state into depression I called it the “slump”.  My hypomanic phases would last months and l absolutely loved them.  I was making all A’s in college, excelling at work and having a blast in my personal life.  Then depression would strike and my depression wasn’t like a sad depression where I cried or felt sad.  I just became very unsocial, my grades would suffer and work became extremely difficult.  It was more of a cognitive thing like memorization, understanding and processing information suddenly became a challenge.  I saw a few doctors and they all said the same thing- sounds like you might have bipolar.  I was definitely not prepared to accept that as an answer to my “slump” so I continued living in hypomania and depression for 7 years until I had my first psychotic break.  

I only remember bits and pieces from my first full blown manic episode.  I thought the radio was personally talking to me.  I had extreme religious delusions.  I thought all my friends and even people on TV were my brothers and sisters and my Dad had fathered all these illegitimate children.  I thought my cell phone was tapped.  I thought I was being stalked by one of my customers at work and had called 911 several times.  911 finally sent cops out to my house and they could immediately see that I hadn’t slept in days and knew I had a chemical imbalance.  They told my Mom I could go to the hospital or jail.  Since I was super paranoid I went with option a, to the hospital I went.  From there I was transported to the first psychiatric hospital who had an open bed.  My first night at the hospital I was sedated and finally got some sleep after days of no rest.  For the third or fourth time I heard those dreadful words from the psychiatrist at the hospital, I had bipolar.  I guess this time there was no running from my diagnosis, it was time to get help. 
The next year I fell into a deep depression.  I couldn’t come to terms with my diagnosis.  I didn’t want to believe I needed a pill to live for the rest of my life.  I began to see a social worker and psychiatrist on a regular basis.  Every few months my meds would change and I’d experience horrible side effects.  Nothing seemed to help.  There was no digging me out of this hole I was in.  The time when most of my friends were getting married, having kids and getting promotions- my life came to a complete stop.  I was unemployed and living back at home.  

3 years and one more hospitalization later at the age of 30 I’ve finally found a combination of meds that seem to work for me.  I feel they could use a little fine-tuning, but overall I’m doing much better.  I know this is an everyday battle and one I could not fight without the support of my friends and family, especially my Mom.  I’m still a work in progress since I do not have a job and still do not socialize as much as I’d like to.  The difference now versus 3 years ago is I’m no longer embarrassed I have bipolar.  I found a NAMI support group in my area and my first meeting is next Tuesday.  I’m excited to see what that can bring to the table.  I look forward to the day where I can work again, socialize and live life more fully and am very optimistic that is in the near future. 

Are you wiling to share your story?

I'd like to try something new with my blog. I've told a lot of my story up until this point. Now, I'd like to share the stories of other individuals who are living with a mental illness or have a loved one with a mental illness. A few weeks ago I had the chance to share the story of one of my Facebook followers, which I very much appreciated. Everyone's story is different and each story brings a new and different perspective on mental illness to individuals who don't know a lot about mental illness as well as individuals who are knowledgeable about mental illness and care deeply about the subject. Equally important to that, new and different stories could connect with some of my readers more than my story does. Your story could relate more to someone's individual situation and could make a difference in their life. Your story could help fight the stigma of mental illness and give someone a sense of belonging and hope as well as the feeling that they are not alone in their fight!

 If you're willing to share your story for me to post on my blog please send me an e-mail me at KissingStigmaGoodbye@gmail.com. I would never share your name or any identifying information, it would be posted completely anonymously! It can be as short or long as you'd like; as formal or informal as you'd like!

Thank You! 

-Sara-

Poems From a KSG Follower

A follower of Kissing Stigma Goodbye on Facebook by the name of Lucius Maurice has posted some poems on my page expressing his thoughts, feelings and emotions as he goes through his journey.  I posed a few of them a couple weeks ago with his permission and now I am posting the ones he has sent to me since then. Enjoy!

*Hold on*

Though times you feel alone
And no one seems to understand
How much you have been suffering

The Almighty has a plan

Under all your pain and emptiness
He planted a seed, a soul
Be strong and just hold on
You shall reap what he has sowed

*A Purpose*

So you have no strength
To get up today
And search for a reason

Why you shouldn’t stay 

Wrapped in silk

In that little cocoon

Held captive in your mind

In a quiet dark room

Here’s your purpose 

And reason why 

Look out the window 

At the blue and white sky

Look at the kids

Headed to school

Red and yellow flowers

All in full bloom

Look at the sun

With its rays bright

Life is your reason

To rise up and fight  

 *Lean On Me…..*

They all gathered around

On the side and at the head

My support team assembled

Standing around my bed

I didn’t give the call

Letting them know I was ok

They hadn’t heard my voice

In about two or three days

See one has a key

Two I text and call

Two more are my neighbors

They live across the hall

We talked throughout the night

They put the gleam back in my eyes

They overflowed my heart with love

They put spirit back in my life 

 *Lemons to Lemonade*

He had the skills of Picasso

A smile so contagious

But mom saw a change

His actions became outrageous

Frustrated and confused

Not knowing what to do

She sought the opinions

From a doctor or two

She cried out, why him!

Bricks had fallen by the ton

A Bipolar diagnosis

For her teenage son

There were ups and downs

Mom was there to help him fight

He focused on his gift

He excelled throughout his life

A Reader's Story

Below is the story of a Kissing Stigma Goodbye reader and follower on Facebook.  She sent me her story on the Kissing Stigma Goodbye Facebook page and said I could share it, so here it is, copied and pasted exactly as written by her.

So, I thought I'd share my story with you, which you are welcome to share with your other fans...
I first started exhibiting symptoms of bipolar 1 in 1998, around age 15. I wasn't diagnosed until 2007, at age 24. (This has been determined to be because I was on an anti-convulsant for epilepsy. So, I was mostly just manic through my teen years.) My diagnosis followed being treated with anti depressants for a depressed episode following my father in-law's deployment to Iraq. So, in true bipolar form, I went into a manic episode. I tried to overdose, and when my therapist suggested a more thorough psych. eval., I complied. After going over my history and symptoms, I was given my diagnosis, and a boat load of meds. All of '07 into '08 is pretty hazy. They had me on 5 or 6 meds, including Depakote, Ativan, Klonopin, and Ambien, to name some. I was so over-medicated, that I was a shell of my former self. I couldn't function, was still having bad episodes, and attempted suicide at least 3 times. As well as frequent cutting. I was in therapy for a year and a half. I was fortunate to have an incredible therapist. He helped me learn good coping skills, mindfulness, and to recognize my thought patterns and mood swings. He was my saving grace. In 2008, I had enough with being so medicated and still having a hard time, I stopped all meds. (Not recommending it, it was just something I felt I had to do for myself.) In any case, for 2 years, I did ok. I had my mood swings, but I was able to recognize them for what they were, and was effectively using all of the skills that I had learned in therapy. I was able to live life more, without the side effects of the meds. It was definitely hard, and a lot of work, but it was worth every bit of it.

In 2010, things changed for me. My husband, who is a brittle diabetic, was diagnosed with stage 4, of 5, kidney disease. It was a lot to take in, and deal with. As we all know, I'm sure, managing bipolar takes A LOT of work and energy. I just didn't have the energy for dealing with everything I had on my plate. I chose to contact the dr. about starting meds. I wanted to keep them as minimal as possible. I was started on Seroquel, which has worked better for me. They have tried me on other things with it, I just can't bring myself to stay with anything else. Over the last year or so, I have been having a harder time than usual, but I keep trudging along. I have been off & on Xanax for anxiety/panic attacks. But try to manage with my coping skills as much as possible. I have been having a hard time getting the correct med changes, as most of the drs. I've seen just can't figure it out. They all seem to think that because I've been handling so well, I must not really need much help. (I've only handled so well because I recognize my symptoms and do whatever I can to manage them, which gets very hard.) In any case, I need to get in touch with a psych. dr. in an attempt to get things under better control. I am confident that once life calms down some (from my husband's health, after his transplant) I will be able to better get a handle on my moods and not have to rely so heavily on meds. In the meantime, I just ride the waves of my moods and try to look for the beauty in a sometimes dark world.

Poems from a KSG follower!

A follower of Kissing Stigma Goodbye on Facebook by the name of Lucius Maurice has posted some poems on my page expressing his thoughts, feelings and emotions as he goes through his journey.  I asked him if I could post them on the blog for all to see so others could benefit from his expressions as well and he gave me the go ahead, so here they are!

 *Stigmatized*

No front store parking
With a blue and white sign
No wheelchair needed
I can walk sometimes

No cane or walker
Could assist my kind

No walking stick held
I can see just fine

Mania and depression
My mind is disabled
Just a crazy man
Is how I’m labeled

*My Wish*

I wish
Time stood still
So we all could heal
To enjoy the life we're given

I wish

Hurtful words
Exist no more
So we’re all positively driven

I wish
We all said hi
To those walking by
That’s where the change begins

I wish
For a world free of sin
No more war just friends
One Love till the end

 *Bottom of the 9th*

With a note by her side
Eyes filled with tears
She slowly exhaled

With a hint of fear

Medicine and water
On her oak night stand
She twisted the top
And filled her hand

As she reached over
For the crystal glass
She heard the sound
Of a very loud crash

Glass was shattered
All over the floor
Her son soon pushed open
The bedroom door

He said, “Sorry mom,
I got a good hit”
You can use my allowance
To get the window fixed