On December 19, 2008, I was officially diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. Here is my story (please note that this is a very honest and thorough account of my experiences and thoughts and may be uncomfortable/unsuitable to some readers):
Throughout my life, I have encountered periods of depression. As a child, I was often considered 'moody' and 'intense'. By the start of my teenage years, my mind had turned darker. I often considered death a desirable option, a release, and even half-heartedly had a suicide pact with a friend.
I acutely remember my first major episode of depression, which happened during the Summer vacation when I was 16, just after taking school examinations. I was constantly teary, not wanting to do anything or even get out of bed, and very unsure as to why. However, like the other periods of depression I had, I recovered exceptionally well. I often went into a jubilant and productive mood period, where it was strange to even consider me as previously being depressed. But because of my darker times, I reached out for medical help during university with limited success, and then more permanently when I got my first career job. However, I never committed myself thoroughly to any talk therapy that I received, and dismissed ideas of me being possibly 'manic depressive' as absurd and ridiculous.
In November 2008, due to a variety of life events and traumas, I was deeply depressed and having intense and deeply concerning suicidal thoughts. I was in many ways having a full breakdown. In panic, I called my previous psychologist who I was seeing earlier in the year and asked him to put me on medication. After some discussion, we decided to try Lexapro, a anti-depressant that I knew my father -- who has Major Depression -- successfully took.
Immediately after beginning taking Lexapro, I felt a dramatic difference. I felt very 'high', with pulse racing and body tingling, whilst feeling rather sedated, drowsy and socially unresponsive all of the time. My memories of this time, such as Thanksgiving Dinner, are most peculiar. At the same time, the suicidal thoughts were still very much present, only I was once more able to get out of bed and function again. Not knowing what to expect from my medication -- and with my therapist unavailable on a long holiday vacation -- I had little understanding that I was having an adverse reaction to the anti-depressant.
About four weeks after being with Lexapro, on a rainy Monday morning, I flipped and decided to kill myself that day. The previous night I was at a social function, where I had felt totally paranoid, thinking that everyone was thinking and talking about me, and unable to communicate at all. I was acutely uncomfortable in my own mind and in my skin, and as I was on medication already, the only answer seemed to be death. Having been thinking and researching about suicide on the internet for several weeks, I knew that a combination of drug overdose and suffocation was the quickest and most pain-free way to go. So, after saying goodbye to my best friend and my husband, I got into the car with all the over-the-counter and prescription medications available to me and with a pack of plastic trash bags. I then drove to the remotest place I could easily get to, thinking that I could kill myself undisturbed and at peace.
I was found two days later by an unknown local to the area, who after dragging me semi-conscious and puking blood out of the car, called for an ambulance. I was taken to hospital where after a heavy time in the ER, I was admitted for a three day stay in the Psychiatric department. I was diagnosed as Bipolar I and having a Mixed episode with psychotic behavior. I was prescribed 200mg Lamictal and 20mg Abilify, and released under family intervention, and under the understanding that I would immediately seek out-patient psychiatric treatment.
In this blog, I intend to catalog my personal journey of treatment, understanding and acknowledgement, as well as looking into Bipolar research and the history of people with Bipolar disorder.
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