June 12, 2019
*** Trigger Warning***
Mental Health has always been a taboo subject. But in recent years there has been light shed on the subject. In the beginning, I was so embarrassed that I had been diagnosed with Mental Health Issues, but I realized there is no need to be embarrassed. According to World Health Organization, 1 in 4 people in the World are affected by Mental or Neurological Disorders. So around 450 Million people currently suffer from such conditions.
Realization and Help Sought
For those who do not know my mental health story, I will share it with you. My childhood was not great, (being molested by a family member, My dad abandoning my sister and I and becoming an addict and alcoholic after him and my mom divorce, and abuse from my mom's husband at the time, and My Mom and I were constantly at war because of her husband before I finally left at age 17) I feel was a big contributor to my Mental Issues. I found out years later that as a child I suffered from anxiety but was not treated for it. I was always worrying about everything, my stomach always felt like my heart fell into it, and always nauseous, and once in a while I would cry for no reason other than I had a bad feeling and felt it in my gut. My Grandma Betty noticed this and called me her worrywart because I would tell her all my worries. One day, when she came from work she had present for me. She handed me this colorful small pouch. Inside was this tiny colorful doll. She told me it was an Guatemalan Worry Doll, and that I can tell her all my worries, and she will make them go away and make me fell better. She worked wonders and I had her with all the time if I had pockets on my outfit. The tiny doll was given to me when I was in 3rd grade. I had it until the end of 5th grade when she disappeared and I was told that she was eaten by the dog from my Mom's Boyfriend at the time which I don't think it was an accident, he know how I depended on her and I think he fed her to the dog because she was in a high place I knew the dog couldn't get to her. I found her in the dog's poo outside. Yes heartbreak.
When I was 21, I purchased another Doll, she too disappeared, but I figured this one ran away from me because of how much I worried and how messed up I was.
In 2012, I knew something was wrong. I was always sad, sleeping, having crying fits, not focused at work, and constantly fighting with Alex, until one day an argument got super heated and we got into a yelling match. He was yelling at me what's wrong and talk to me. Which my response was I was fine and for him to leave me alone, which his response was to threating me with divorce. At that moment something snapped and I went numb, like I had no feelings, I felt nothing. I told him I was done arguing and that I was going to take a shower and had grabbed my small pocket knife out of my purse with out seeing and went to the bathroom and started the shower. I got undressed and sat in the tub with the knife, looking at it wondering why I wasn't feeling anything, maybe if I cut a small line in my leg, I would feel something. It would be pain, but at least I would feel it right? As I placed the blade to my leg and started building up the courage to cut, Alex walks in apologizing and opens the shower curtain. It all happened so fast. Alex snatched the knife from me and then he was on me, hugging me asking what I was going to and what's wrong? All I was thinking was he was getting his clothes wet, and then he said it. I love you! Why are you trying to leave me and Gabby??? I broke and started crying, and told him I was not trying to kill myself. I was numb and was going to cut my leg. After several minutes, I got out and we talked, and he told be I needed to get help and to make an appointment with the doctor. The next day I went to work thinking I would be okay. I think I was only there for 2 hours when I had a break down in the bathroom. I called my Aunt who told me to go to the ER and she will meet me there. At the ER I was asked if I wanted to seek help, I said yes. I was transported to a different hospital that had a Psych Ward there. I was committed for 7 days, and it was one of the worse times in my life. I wasn't treated bad. I didn't want to be there after 2 days. All I kept thinking was I was not crazy like the people who were there, and cried all the time to be released to go home. This was in November of 2012.
Diagnosis
After day 4 of being admitted, I was diagnosed with Bipolar Type 2, Anxiety with Depression and PTSD. On the 6th day we had a treatment plan and the morning of the 8th day I was released.
Treatment
Treatment was rough and did not go well in the beginning. The Psychiatrist I was referred to, I felt like didn't listen to me, I was telling him how the medication was making me feel and all he did was prescribe me a different antidepressant each time, instead of looking at how the mood stabilizer was working. The medication had made me worse, I was crying about 10 times a day everyday. I started to go to therapy and loved it. About a year of being on the medication, I had enough and took myself off of it and stopped going to the Psychiatrist, but continued therapy. I told the therapist I stopped the medication and fired the Psychiatrist. She advised me that she does not recommend that I take myself off. We went over coping mechanism, and after a another year of therapy, I was released from it.
Family Coping
It was hard for us in the beginning. When I was committed and diagnosed, Alex was in on one of visits, we were waiting to see one of the doctors. He told me he didn't know if he wanted to be with me anymore because of this. I asked him if he was fucking serious and this was just a perfect time to tell me this being in the Psych Ward and all. We went in to see the and the doctor explained my diagnosis, treatment, and support I needed for me to be healthy and happy. After the visit with the doctor, I told Alex to leave that I didn't want to be with him anymore. He came back the next day and apologized, he was sorry and he didn't understand all this and didn't know how to react. When I got out I gave him all my paperwork to go over and did research so we can understand together. Our Family who did know what was going on was super supportive, and I continue to have support from Alex and them till this day.
Fast Forward to 2016
I had been doing great for years, using my coping mechanisms when needed. But I started feeling off again, tired, sleeping, sad, crying for no reason. Alex noticed right away and said I needed to go to the doctor right away. I found a Psychiatrist who listened very well at my first appointment and got me on meds. I been on the meds 3 years now, even during my pregnancy with Jameson in 2017-2018. We sat down with the OB/GYN and they told me that I should probably get off the meds until I deliver and after breast feeding, and that Alex and I should discuss it then give the decision at our next appointment. Alex told me that he felt I should stay on the medication especially since my hormones will super crazy during pregnancy. I agreed. We gave the doctor the decision and we were told to speak with my high risk doctor to go over possible side effects. Went over it and stayed on the meds. Everything went great.
Now
As of today, I'm still on medication because honestly, I feel I need to be on it, it helps me a lot. I'm not embarrassed anymore to tell people about my illness and that I take medication. I'm mentally happy and healthy. I still have bad days but they are far and wide in between.
My advice for someone who is suffering or thinks they are suffering from Mental Illness, is to talk to someone, seek help, speak with your doctor or call a crisis help line. Do not be embarrassed. You need take care of you. Also I am open to anyone who needs to talk, I'm here. You do not need to feel that you are alone. I have felt alone in this at times, but I found I wasn't. Take care of your Mental Health.
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