This is something that I wrote for a self help advocacy group in town that is publishing a book. They asked me to write something short for them. I will let
you know if it gets published.
I hope this is what you are looking for. Let me now one way or the other.
I'll do my best to give you a synopsis of my recovery journey.
I was first diagnosed with bipolar in 2000, after a hospitalization due to a manic episode. My world turned upside down after that. It was not so much the label of bipolar that bothered me, as I had never heard of it before and didn't know what it was, it was the fact that I had spent time in a mental hospital. I couldn't tell anyone about it, for fear of being stigmatized. I lost the girl that I was seeing prior to being diagnosed too. I felt hurt and ostracized. I was in serious denial. I told the doctors to stick their pills in their ears. I had never heard of bipolar, and there was no way that I was going to accept that label. I blamed alcohol, as it was a large factor (though I know now that it was only a contributing factor - or trigger).
Denial, and a lack of education about bipolar, led to the outcome of my next few years. In June 2003, May 2004, Nov 2004, and Jan 2005 I was admitted to hospital for manic episodes.
My recovery journey started after my manic episode in May 2004. That particular time, I was hospitalized for two weeks. I was hypomanic the whole time (I know that now - though at the time I had never heard the term hypomanic), and I refused medication. Upon discharge the doctor prescribed Respiridone as required. I actually made her write on it, when I felt I required it. (I had no intention of ever taking it). But the one good thing that she did was she encouraged me to see a psychologist. I actually did see one that she recommended to me. I paid $85 an hour to talk to this guy. After talking to him for an hour, he told me to book another appointment for next week. I told him that if it was to be worth my while, I would come back in a few weeks when I had something to talk about. That is when I started writing. I had 20 pages typed up for him the next time, and another 20 the time after that. I was trying to explain what led up to my hospitalizations. I only saw that psychologist a few times, but I continued writing and self analyzing. (One day I hope to share it all with the pubic.) I have learned a lot, and have changed my perspective a few times since I started writing in 2004.
In 2005 I still knew nothing about bipolar, and experienced another manic episode that resulted in hospitalization. But before I was hospitalized, I handed in a resignation letter at work. I typed it up in five minutes one morning before going to work, and handed it in when I got there. I will share here with you here what I wrote that morning.
Friday, November 19, 2004
Boss:
I have to give you some news. I am tendering my two week notice effective today.
Why, you ask?
Well, I just don't find this place intellectually stimulating enough for me. I feel my brain is slowly dying with the passing of each mind numbing day
here. I feel like I a wreck being towed to the scrap heap. I feel that around here I am getting towed closer to that great scrap heap in the sky. And I as my
brain rusts around here, I get closer and closer with each and every passing day.
I am being bored to death, is about all I am trying to say.
I feel the need to explore a different path.
I need to exercise my mind.
Lord knows, that my body gets enough exercise around here, but my mind is slowly going to rust. I feel the need for change.
But, I haven't completely made up my mind yet.
You have two weeks to convince me otherwise.
If you were to hire a nice, young blond girl to run the crusher next year, I would definitely consider staying.
Don't jump up and down and have a hissy fit, Boss. I am just teasing you for the most part. Life is no fun, if you can't take a joke.
But, at the same time, I am as serious as a heart attack.
(I still can't believe that I handed this in, let alone wrote it.) A week later I was delusional and was admitted to hospital. While I was in hospital,
the resignation letter that I wrote was accepted, so I was out of a job - after eleven years there. When I got out of hospital after about 6 weeks, I was in
about the lowest point in my life.
Luckily I was told about a group in a local hospital that transitioned people from the hospital back into society. It was just called a transition group. I was
not too keen on it at first, but I had nothing else to do, so I attended. I am glad I did, because this is the first time I got to hear other peoples stories
and I could relate to some of them. This is when I started to accept that I had bipolar. I started to read every book that I could get from the library about
bipolar. I had a counsellor appointed to me, that I seen once a week for about 6 weeks - she was really helpful too. Eventually I was reluctantly appointed a
psychiatrist. Again there was that stigma attached to seeing a shrink that I feared for a long time. I have no problem seeing him anymore. I actually get along
good with him. But I will still not tell anyone that I see one, because of that stigma.
Anyways one day when I was attending the transition group at the local hospital, a representative for CASH (Cambridge Active Self Help) came in to speak about their services. One of the groups that they talked about was Pathways to Recovery. Well, a couple weeks later, I looked them up, and started attending that group, as well as many others, including WRAP (Wellness Recovery Action Plan) which is based on Mary Ellen Copeland's series of books and movies.
Then on Oct 25, 2005, with the help of CASH and two other people with bipolar, I helped start and facilitate a Bipolar support group. My reason for staring the group was simple - I wanted to help educate people like myself.
I saw a good movie with Richard Gere called Mr Jones. In it he portrays someone with bipolar. The head nurse is giving a tour of the hospital to her understudies, and she gives them a little speech. She said, "First we admit them, then we medicate them, then we evict them." What she is saying is basically the line that the hospital system has been doing for years with little change. She is saying, get them in and give them a bed, label them and medicate them, and get them out as quickly as possible.
What she failed to say, and hence what is lacking in the system is - EDUCATE THEM.
So that is what I am trying to do now. Fill the void, and help educate others, because "I have been there." Luckily I am here now, and able to make a difference in peoples lives.
My life is good now. I started a new job three years ago, bought a new house a year ago, recently got married - and I have bipolar.
