Six years ago, I had everything I could
ever want—a happy marriage, a good job and we had just purchased
our first home. Amazingly and unfortunately, in less than a
year that drastically changed.
I was a military public affairs officer in Texas. My job
required long hours and frequent, long trips away from home. My
first Southwest Asia deployment came on the heals of a
four-month training stint on the East Coast. That marked eight
months of our second year of marriage spent apart.
My wife had a very difficult time handling the time apart. She
was often inconsolable. Between work and trying to comfort her,
I was under a lot of stress. At some point I became depressed.
Then while serving in the Saudi Arabia, I
began to feel strange. Everything difficult became easy. A
multitude of sounds, like the wind, fell into a rhythmic
pattern. Colors, light, numbers and language formed
exhilaratingly intricate patterns intertwined by connections, or
a common thread of meaning. I was manic for the first time.
Despite embarrassing myself with overzealous, rambling emails,
my illness managed to go unnoticed until I arrived home in
Texas. My wife noticed the change in me immediately and had me
take a self-test for bipolar disorder. I answered “yes” to
almost every question, but yet I denied
that there was anything wrong. Still, I appeased her by
going to the doctor.
There wasn’t a psychiatrist on the base, so I went to see
a general practice physician. This was the worst mistake I
made. He could tell that I had been under a lot of stress and
had been down, so he prescribed me Zoloft. The antidepressant
sent my mania through the roof. A couple of days later, at my
protestation, I was hospitalized.
My first experience in a military hospital was a memorable one.
I was so paranoid that I thought I was part of a military
experiment designed to test my loyalty and/or prepare me for
advancement. I thought doctors and the other patients were
actors paid to represent abstract inner feelings of mine.
I was in psychosis.
I was treated with Ativan originally to calm me down, then
Zyprexa or Olanzipine was added and Ativan was dropped. It’s
funny to me, I recall writing a song praising Zyprexa while I
was there. Little did I know what problems it would cause for
me.
I entered the hospital at 200 pounds. Six weeks later I
was 240. Depakote was added to the Zyprexa shortly after
leaving the hospital. With the two weight-gaining drugs tag
teaming me, I was nearly 300 pounds before the year was over.
Worst of all, during my time in the hospital I was terrible to
my wife. Psychosis caused me to believe that my wife and I were
not meant to be together. The reality behind that was, I was
bitter at her for sending me to the hospital when I had been so
supportive of her. She told me she would stand behind me no
matter what. I told her I wanted a divorce. We separated.
In the months that followed discharge
from the military, my thinking cleared enough that I realized I
was making the biggest mistake of my life. But I could not
convince her that the manic Ryan did not represent my true
feelings. We divorced in late 2000.
I went into a deep depression. I returned home to the Midwest
and immediately went back to work, but the depression and
combination of Olanzipine and Depakote dulled my mind and
ruined my concentration. I slept as much as 16 hours a day
during that period, often not bothering to shower or shave
before going to work. For hours I would stare at my computer
screen and accomplish nothing.
A new doctor led me to Lithium for the first time. He slowly
tapered me off both Olanzipine and Depakote, and in a short time
I felt like a new man. I lost 80 pounds to begin approaching my
old weight and I felt new energy and drive at the office.
Unfortunately, that proved too good to be true.
By December of 2001, I was experiencing full-blown mania again.
The lithium had not been enough to cap my high moods and they
bubbled over. I was hospitalized for a third time. Risperidone
was added to my med regimen.
Over the next three years, we tried Quetiapine (Seroquel),
Olanzipine again, Depakote again and Buspirone without success.
I continued to experience frequent manias with intermittent
depression. All told, I went through fourjobs in four different
states in just a few years. Finally, I moved home with my
mother, and started going to the local VA hospital for
treatment.
During that time, we have tried Ziprasidone (Geodon) and Topamax,
both without success. Only in the last few months have my moods
stabilized for the first time on a combination of Lithium,
Aripiprazole and Lamotrigine.
It’s been a long hard road. After six hospitalizations, lost
jobs and damaged relationships, it can take quite a toll on a
person. But I’m on a military pension now, and I have the
opportunity and time to find something I want to do. It’s an
opportunity to find real meaning again. I hope to resume my
career writing and editing.