Ryan's Story

EMAIL Ryan HERE
 

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.

 

 
 Minnie's story

I am 31 years old now, i have been going to a Psychologist since about the age of 12. It started off for me with being dx with O.C.D. That started around age 10, I started going to see a school Psychologist when i was about 12 years old. I used to be picked on alot in school every day, and i started to go downhill from there and also my home life was not the best either. My ocd was really bad, it took me over 2 or 3 hours before i went to sleep, i spent so much time checking things and counting that it made me physically sick, i was dreading going to bed cause i knew i had to do these things before i could settle for the night, i used to get yelled at alot from parents telling me to go to bed but i knew that something was not right in my head unless i did all these things before bed. I checked doors, closets, stove, under the bed, the window to make sure it was locked, outside to make sure nobody was around the house,id have to make sure the curtains were straight and id have to drink so much water until i felt full , i used to count too over and over again until i felt that i could got to sleep and that nothing bad would happen to me during the night, once i was in bed i would pray the same prayer over and over again until again i felt safe. This ocd is still part of my life, i still check the doors and stove, outside, and stil count alot. This was my nightly ritual and if i didnt do it i felt that i was gonna die, so i continued even when my parents told me to stop i couldnt stop it i had to do this, they didnt know what i was doing but i did know. I had alot of anxiety too and if i didnt do all this stuff before bedtime the anxiety would get worse.
I can remember my parents were fighting alot than mostly cause of me they used to say, i was told i was stupid almost every single day and that i wouldnt amount to anything in my life, i was literally driving closer and closer to divorcing. I remember coming home from school i was in elementary school than and telling my parents what the other kids said or did to me and they used to tell me stop telling them all this stuff every day cause it was all my fault. So even since elementary school grade primary to grade 8 i was picked on every day from kids, i was called names such as loser, idiot, crazy, no good, pushed, and shoved, almost killed a few times, i felt very very alone,i never had a single friend in all of my school days not 1, how do you think that makes someone feel all this time without a friend, not very good i can tell you.
So at this time in my life i figured that something was seriously wrong with me and started acting out, slamming doors and screaming all the time, crying every day in school. I think that was the start of my anger problem. I was so tired of school, i couldnt wait to get to high-school, i thought that in high-school everyone would be more grown up yeah right was in wrong.
In grade 10 i was 17 years old, i was a few years older than most kids in high school cause i failed a few times. So off to high school i went.
One of my teachers noticed a change in me in grade 10,I started not paying attention in class, sleeping alot in class, not showing up for my class with him, not going to school, crying and so emotional, he talked to me and than talked to my parents and told them that he thought that i was severly depressed, this teacher of mine knew about depression so he knew the signs to look for. He talked to me every day and even took his own classes off to talk to me, he was very understanding. He spoke to my parents alot and they even noticed a change in me. I was acting out alot, angry all the time, sleeping alot, slamming everything that had doors. So my teacher thought that it was a good idea for me to go see a Psychiatrist,he knew one and said that she was very good, i was scared to death to go see a psychiatrist i thought that only crazy people went to see them lol, so my parents took me up to see her a the hospital. That was my first time being hospitalized, i spent 2 months in hopsital than. My pdoc tried me on prozac than and ran some test on me. I was so scared of goign back home and back to school cause i knew that i would be teased alot more now, now that i spent some time in a pschy ward.
I did go back to school and the name calling got worse, this time they would call me mental, crazy, and other names as well, cause thet knew where i was at for 2 months, and i started to get depressed more and more with every passing day until i had enough and spent another 2 months in the hospital shortly after. I know now how cruel kids can be, i did go back to school after that but it just got worse, my parent didnt know what to do with me, they had enough, they were at their ropes end with me. My pdoc would come down to where i lived so i seen her every week for a long time. We had meetings with my parents and some of the teachers.
Things at home were not the best either cause my parents didnt know what to do with me or how to help me. SO i continued to see pdoc once a week and went to school, i remember one day coming home crying to my mom and told her some things so she called pdoc up and i went up the next day to see her and she took me off prozac, it wasnt working for me, at that time their was alot of people talking about prozac in the news and on tv so it scared me to be on them. And i started to get suicidal at that time. So pdoc gave me some other meds cant remember what they were.
I couldnt deal with all the stress from school and home so i started to drink around age 19, i would take some alcohol to school and drink itinthe bathroom betwen classes, nobody knew what i was doing, this was my way of coping with stuff. I also started to run to the bathroom after i ate anything and threw it up, i i didnt want anything in my body like food cause i thought that it was slowly killing me so thats what i would do to feel better.
I went to live with my aunt and uncle for a few months during grade 11, cause my parents had too much stress and thought that it may help me to live with someone else for awhile, so off i went, i became very quite than, didnt say anything to anybody at all,i kept everything inside until i felt like blowing up.
IThere were times i couldnt stand to listen to myself, let alone live with myself. I tried and tried so hard to make others understand me but they never listened, all they did was make fun and kept on abusing me mentally, i was sick of all the mental abuse i got from my parents and from people in school. I was tormented so much that i started to believe everything they told me, that i was dumb, stupid, mental, and not loved. If someone is being called names all thier life they start to believe them, thats what i did and my self esteem went down, really down. So i continued to drink and throw up after meals, i was sent to so many psychologist, many doctors, and social workers, and had many many group meetings with my family but still nothing worked. I was given medication after medication but none of them worked either.
In grade 12, i was hospitalized again for an eating disorder (bulimia) and for a suicide attempt and for depression, the cycle continued, that year i spent my birthday, xmas and new years in hospital, i didnt like that one bit but they would not let me go home. And once again i got home went back to school and it didnt get any better. I finally graduated in 1995 after 6 years of being in high school it usually takes someone 4 years to complete but for me it took 6 i failed grade 10 and grade 12. But i finally made it. I was so glad to be out of there. Goodbye high school, i have no regrets either from leaving not one.
They put me through hell and back, i blame alot of my problems on my high school days i blame everyone tht ever picked on me called me names every single one of them i blame for making methe way i am today. BUt i know in my heart that is not true at all. I do know that depression runs in my family and that it is not my fault that i got this horribly illness, thats what i used to call it horrible but now i know that its just an illness like any other illness in the world. You just cant see it from the outside thats all.
SO i graduated in 1995, boy what now, what was i gonna do with my life, i wasnt sure yet of what i wanted to do, i was still living at home at age 22, yes age 22 lol, i was still driving them nuts at home, and my behavior was affecting everyone so my pdoc suggested that i move away to a group home, she knew of one that was gonna open up soon so i went there to see it and signed some papers, it was a group home and close to where the hospital was at so i could go see pdoc there. But in the meantime another group home was just about to open where i live so i filled out papers for that one and got in so in November of 1995 i moved in. I was so happy to be living away from my parents, they had staff there to help if need me, i didnt need any help with every day things just needed a lending ear, i needed to be somewhere where i could figure out my life and have someone to listen tome for once in my life. I stayed there for 3 years, my pdoc still seen me and this home was a home for me so i wouldnt have to end up in hospital again sort of if you can understand that one. That still dont make sense to me but anyway i stayed there for 3 years. I left in 1998, i went to school in 1997-1998 to get my personal care workers course, i really enjoyed it and loved working with the elderly. Before that i took a course through the mail and graduated from that with highest honors, it was a child psychology course. At least i was smart to do that although it didnt give me anything really just was exciting to take. I moved to an apartment of my own after that, and got on at a nursing home that didnt lst too long, they fired me still dont know why but. i worked at a few more jobs and really liked working it gave me my self esteem back and my confidence and made me feel worthwhile , that was only to be taken away from me again after just 2 or 3 months. And the same thing happend without any reason why or explaination why. they never gave me an answer not one of them for why they let me go. That made me mad, as it would anybody. I moved about 4 other times after that, couldnt stay in one place too long. I didnt know why than but i have an idea why that happened now. I loved having my indepedence to do what i wanted to do and not having someone over my shoulder all the time telling me what to do i loved being on my own. I got a car and had even more independence than. I was still seeing my pdoc alot than and going to a social worker too at that time but i was on my own thats the best thing that ever happened to me i thought lol.
From 1995 to 2001 i never had to go into hospital once and thought that that my life was finally looking up until the depression took a hold of me again. Im not saying that for 7 years i was better no way was i better but i had support for 3 years in group home and just coped better sort of. In 2002 i ended up in the same hospital again after a suicide attempt, spent only 5 days there, was given more meds tht still didnt work for me. I was sent home to my parents house for awhile until i started feeling better and had to report to family doctor once a week. I eventaully went back to my home and found some work at a fast food restaurant, that didnt last either, i was getting sick and tired of being rejected all the time from any where that i went to work started to feel that their was a reason for me not being able to handle a job just didnt know what that was. I moved over 7 times since 1995. Again in 2003 i spent some more time in hospital again for the same thing and was put on lithium at that time i wasnt dx with bp but my pdoc thought cause my aunt had been on lithium for a long time that it may work with me so i started it too. I took it for awhile and than started to feel better so i went off of meds altogether on my own just stopped like that i threw them down the toilet, that wasnt the first time i did something like that ive been knownto go off meds. But i know now tht doenst solve anything at all, unless you want to end up in hospital again. I either went off meds cause i felt better or that i didnt like to take them and felt that they were ding me no good. I wasnt happy on them meds and i wasnt happy without them, nothing in the world could make me happy i figured. Not any amount of meds or anybody could make me happy ever again, thats what that little voice inside my head was telling me over and over again. I wanted so much to be normal per say but didnt know how to be, i found a boyfriend and went oout with him for 8 months took him back twice but he had his own issues to deal with, although he didnt want any help he thought that he wasnt doing anything wrong at all, boy was he wrong. he drank way too much, lyed too much, but he loved me so i stayed with him, i was in love and for the first time in my life felt that someone loved me, but it got worse after a while, he started to be jealous alot expecially when he drank, got into fights, which was always and became abusive too so tht was the last straw for me so i left him for good. Nobody and i mean nobody is gonna treat me like he did, i went through hell and back in school days wasnt putting up with his sh++ anymore.. i got fed up with all his lyes so i left him, i wont mention any more about him cause it jsut brings up memorys i dont wanna remember.
In 2004, i was still going to see a social worker i have been goign to talk to her since 1999 so she knows me better than i know myself at times lol. One day i told her some things actually i wrote them down for her to read, i used to write alot when i had nobody to talk to so i wrote down some things that at that time didnt seem to make too much sense to me but in the back of my mind i knew what was goign on with me. I told social worker that i was having mood swings, up one min down the next, i though tht i could fly through the air like a bird and not get hurt, told her that i felt like i was on cloud 9, my mind was racing, talking to fast, staying up all night long goign out every night,drinkng and doing drugs , not sleeping, felt like i was a totally diff person felt so good that i didn wanna take my meds any more cause i thought that i was cured from all this depression, that i was really hyper at times singing and dancing and making jokes and felt on top opf the world, thta i could do anythign that i wanted to do cause i felt like super woman. I told her that i felt like i could conqear the world. Than all of a sudden the loneliness would return and the depression and back to feeling down and sleeping al the time, and than once again id be hyper again and running around like achicken with is head cut off making sure tht i helped everyone and making them happy. So social worker told me that she wanted me to go talk to my family doctor the very next day so i went to see him, in the meantime my social worker spoke to family doctor on the phone befroe i went to see him to let him know what was going on wiht me. I showed him the piece of paper and he told me that i was having a manic episode and wanted to put me on lithium again , so he gave me lithium and i took it faithfully every day, he increases the dose after a week or 2 i ended up being on 1200 mg of lithium within 3 to 4 weeks, and my blood level was still not up to what they wanted it to be so i continued taking it and went for blood work. At about 4 weeks after starting lithium i started to get the shakes really bad, i rmember comnig in here and i couldnt type at all was shaking so bad, i knew somethign was wrong, so i went back to see doctor , i was having other problems with this lithium just cant remember them all right now, I didnt know wht i was diong mst of the time,,couldnt rrmember anything, didnt feel any better was feeling worse on meds. One day i was sitting on my bed at my parents house staring at a bottle of tylenol crying so i knew then that something was serouisly wrong here and called up my social worker or than called up doctor and wanted me to go to the hospital right away, so i got my parents to drive me there i didnt say anything to my parents at that time, jsut take me to the hospital thats all i could say. The doctor came in and told me to go home and pack a few things and go straight to the hospital that was hour and a half away to see doctor there in er. So i went home and packed and went to see other doctor and he told my parents that they had a very sick girl on their hands and he was keeping me in hospital for awhile. i dont know what else he told them cause they went to another room to talk alone. SO i stayed there for aweek, and they watched me like a hawk, they took me off lithium at once cause my blood test showed that it was making me toxic so off with the meds i went cold turkey, and they tried me on something else, i seen another pdoc there and she put me on lamictal, so i have been on lamictal for ayear now and no diff in moods at all, i am also taking trazodone for sleeping which is also an anti depressent too, and ativan for anxiety. Boy with the amount of meds that i took over the years for this illness i could start up my own drugstore i thinklol.
SO i was sent home again to my parents house once again to keep eye on me. I eventually had to move to another apartment cause of the cost of rent and all the bills i had, i just couldnt do it on social assistance, so i moved here in june of 2004, i love it here and dont plan on moving again for a long time.
IT is now 2005, oh boy what a year it has been. I was so excited for 2005 to come and now i wish i would of stayed in 2004. It all started shortly before xmas for me. First of all my aunt died in nov, than it was my uncle he died in dec right before xmas, with 2 deaths in our small neighborhood was given me the creeps sort of, and than in jan of 2005 my grandmother passed away, it happened so fast none of us seen it coming, i was so close to her did everything for her and miss her alot these days. It was my second home id be there everyday helping her, i helped her with housework, helping her take baths, cooked for them, played cards everynight while my grandpa went out to card plays. Everyone seemed to be dying around me it was making me really scared and paranoid too, i also lost another aunt which would have been my grandmothers sister on the same day and about 3 or 4 other family members too since 2005 started.boy what a year. I still dont cope too good with my grandmothers death, i dont believe shes gone and probably wont for awhile but it helps to talk about her and remember things she use to do.
In april of 2005 i landed once again in hospital in the same pschy ward as the years before, i dont need any help fiiding my way around there thats for sure lol,no its not funny but i thought that part of it was lol. So now when i go into hospital i show other patience where everything is. I was sent up there by social worker again, i didnt want family to know so i went on my own to hospital here and was sent up to the other one by ambulance, my social worker told me tht it was either tht or th cops would take me there so i spent 1 week there once again.
So, now i am tryin my best to cope with everything its not easy thats for sure, i stil dont understand how i feel most of the time. Recently my moods are all over the place, really bad at times. So i know that i must go back for med adjustment to pdoc and see wht happens from there. One thing i must say before i finish this story of my life is that i feel that i have grown up alot faster than alot of others and have more understanding and am more caring for those that feel the same way as i do, its not easy living with this illness and its not anybodys fault either, over the years i have learned alot from reading and talkingto so many people about everything that has happened tome that it all has made me a lot stronger i think. I know for a fact that depression is not easy, and it will never be easy but if we have lots of support and take the right meds we can feel better, I know from my own experiences that if i never found this chat room i dont know what i would do, you are all my family and i am not alone anymore.

minnie04 (melanie)

 

 

 

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