The big bad monster on the couch

I know that it is not easy to read or talk about mental illness. I understand how it makes you feel all squirmy and uncomfortable inside and anything you say seems wrong. You sometimes even become afraid of the person before they do anything at all. I know this because that was me seven years ago. But now this is me - the same me but with a new vision and comprehension. This journey has changed me in so many ways and will continue to do so for quite a while. I have found many of the flaws, or disastrous potholes, in the current mental health system and I have coped with those who work with us but have no respect for us. Yet I can also say that I have been blessed by this experience, because I can now relate to those who are struggling. I can truly mean it when I say I understand. And I can use my little voice from nowhere to shout as loudly as I can the truth about mental illness. If I can stir one blade of grass then it will have been worth the journey.

After leaving the first mental health facility, I immediately had to stop taking two of my important medications due to Medicare refusing to pay for them. I have a whole speech on the government deciding what medication you can take instead of doctors but I will leave that for another day. Anyway, the loss of these two medicines caused me to fall. So I went to the local hospital that has a mental health floor. That was a disaster I will write about all on its own, but they changed every medication that we had worked 30 days to get balanced and then sent me home. I started a partial inpatient program at a private psychiatric hospital about 45 minutes away (the provide transportation which is how I can attend) but after starting on Friday and attending on Monday I ended up back in the emergency room with severe symptoms. This time I knew to ask for help even as I was trying to reach for the pill bottles. The local hospital wanted another turn with me since I was a resident of the county and they had a bed available but I refused to go to that unit. It took a court mandate, and the declaration of the manager of the unit for me to be able to return to the original hospital. I just got out after spending 9 days there starting all new medications. I was feeling so good yesterday about coming home, until just before the van came and I realized that my social worker had not followed through on providing my medications and I had prescriptions but no money to fill them. I ended up in tears of total anger (I hate that I cry when I am mad, it just makes me madder) and even admittedly crossed the line with my language. So I am home with no new meds, trying to wing it with the ones I received from the other two programs and praying that it is a good sign that she had them filled somewhere and will find a way for me to get them. I am so happy to be home, and will be restarting the partial inpatient program on Thursday since Monday is a holiday and I have to get a ride there on the first day.
 I am so ready for this to just stabilize and to return to my normal life. My greatest fear in life has always been to lose control of my own mind, and this does that to me. It robs me of  my total control and it makes me feel weak when I know I am strong. It tells me that I am not worthy of love when I know that loving is one of the things I do best. It steals from me the joy of a good day out of fear of how long it will last even though I know that life is in this moment. I want to just go back to being me again - well, me with the new insight and changes.
This, this is mental illness broken down to black on white, to a single story, to a timeline of a life, to a solitary experience. This is me - a daughter, a friend, a sister, an aunt, a teacher (well, former), a writer, a photographer, a dreamer, a world changer, a survivor, and an individual with mental illness.

Whatcha calling me?

I had already had a tentative diagnosis of bipolar disorder when I went to the psychiatric hospital based on a certain abnormal gene found associated with my mitochondrial disease. That I understood, Then the symptoms of psychosis were added in and I was like, whoa, are you calling me psychotic? The anxiety disorder I think came from being in the darn hospital. But I would like to explain my official diagnoses for those who do not know.

Bipolar disorders are marked by episodes of mania and depression, which may alternate although  most patients have a predominance of one over the other. Bipolar disorders usually start in the teens, twenties, and thirties. The lifetime rate of Bipolar disorder is 4% of the population with both genders represented equally.

There are three types of Bipolar Disorder:

Bipolar I: The presence of one severe manic state and including usually depressive episodes
Bipolar II: The presence of major depressive episodes with one or more hypomanic episode (not complete manic)
Unspecified Bipolar Disorder: Disorders that clearly match features of Bipolar Disorder but not completely enough for diagnosis

Psychosis usually happens during the manic phase and can easily mimic schizophrenia

Treatment of Bipolar Disorder usually uses mood stabilizers and 2nd generation antipsychotics. Treatment generally has three phases
            Acute: To stabilize the new symptoms
            Continuation: To achieve remission
            Maintenance: To keep the patient in remission

I fall under Bipolar I (oh the stories I could tell about a manic episode) with symptoms of psychosis because I was hearing voices (Damn Molly). The anxiety disorder I cannot really specify on because there are tons of disorders that come under that heading. My treatment for my Bipolar is both medication and therapy.

Yet if we met you would never know there was anything different about my brain than yours.I have learned to cover it well and unless really manic or really depressed can act normally.

Just the Facts

Before I continued I wanted to post some facts on mental illness that I found online to help support education and acceptance.

* MYTH: Mental Health does not affect me
    FACTS (from 2014): 1 in 5 adults experience a mental health illness in their lifetime
                   1 in 10 young people experienced a period of major depression
                   1 in 25 Americans live with a serious mental illness
                   Suicide is the tenth most common cause of death.

MYTH: Children do not experience mental health issues.
  FACTS: Even very young children can show early warning signs of mental illness
                Half of all mental illnesses show first signs before the age of 14
                Three Quarters of mental disorders begin before age 24

MYTH: People with Mental Health problems are violent and unpredictable
FACTS: Only 3-5% of violent crimes can be linked to someone with a serious mental illness
               People with serious mental health issues are 10x more likely to be a victim of violent crime                      than thee common population

MYTH: People with mental health illnesses, even whe receiving proper treatment, cannot handle the stress of a job.
FACTS: Employers who hire people with mental health issues report good punctuality, attendance, motivation, good work, and job tenure equal to or greater than their neurotypical peers
.
MYTH: Personality weakness or personality flaws cause mental illness. A person with a mental illness can just snap out of it if they try.
FACTS: Many factors contribute to mental health including
                       Biological factors (genes, injuries, illness, etc)
                       Life Experience (Like a history of trauma or abuse)
                      Family history of mental health problems
              People with mental health issues can get better and even recover completely 

MYTH: There is no hope for people with mental health issues and they will never recover
FACTS: Studies show that people with mental health issues get better and many recover.

MYTH: Therapy and self help are a waste of time. Just take medicine.
FACTS: The individual treatment plan for someone with a mental health illness may include medication, therapy or both.

MYTH: I can't do something for a person with a mental health need.
FACTS: Only 44% of adults and 20% of youth with diagnosable mental heath issues receive the treatment they need. In this case, a good support system can be vital.

MYTH: Prevention does not help. It is impossible to prevent a mental illness.
FACTS: By promoting the social-emotional well being of youth outcomes include
                             Higher overall productivity
                             Better educational outcomes
                             Lower crime rate
                             Improved quality of life

US Department of Health and Human Services, Mental Health.gov 

Miss Molly Mack

I told no one that I had been hearing a voice other than my own in my head since before my first suicide attempt. I thought they would think I am crazy, which is rather ironic, The voice continually told me I was unworthy, unloved, unimportant and that life would be better for everyone if I just killed myself. It was like listening to a CD on repeat 24/7. At the hospital after the second attempt I confessed to the doctor about the voice (Once I knew I could trust him). He said it would take a combination of medications and work on my part to get rid of the voice. Positive thinking, meditation, writing, etc. were all encouraged. I decided that since I argued with this voice often enough it needed a name. I went with Molly because it seemed to be a less harsh name. It turns out that the name Molly means bitter. Very appropriate! The best news of all is that Molly has been put on mute!!

Mars, Venus, Where the Hell am I

When I arrived at the psychiatric hospital I first they had taken me to a jail instead. It certainly looked like one. inside was a completely empty room to wait in. The paramedics stayed with me at this point. I was wanded for metal and then moved to a room with a few traditional medical items. It was at this point that I signed myself in. Signing your self in means you can request a discharge and the doctors will reach a solution. If they feel you need to stay they will get a court mandate. If you have a mandate you cannot refuse any treatment proposed by the doctor. Since I like to have the right to Say 'no!" like a two year old I chose to be voluntary. I was sent up to the fourth floor, what I so lovingly call Dante's Inferno. I was strip searched and given hospital 'clothing" to put on (mesh underwear, disposable blue pants and two gowns (one served as a gown, the other a robe). I did not have either of my wheelchairs with me so I had to use what looked like a 1970s ghetto wheelchair. Add in the yellow no slip socks and i was hot. :)
There are four floors to the building i was in. the forth floor held  the crisis unit (think of running around yelling i can fly tinkerbelle!) an the fourth floor unit. It was very convenient as patients bounced in and out of the crisis unit. These were the adults that could not stop responding to the voiced they heard, who tended to be aggressive, and as a whole seemed unmotivated to change. In line for breakfast there was a patient enraged  He started throwing chair and somehow just missed me.
Knowing there were people with homicidal ideation and even plans was enough to keep me awake all night. i was rescued by my psychiatrist said that was the wrong placement for me. As soon as a bed was available I would transfer down to the first floor. That unit was calm, friendly, and real. There were few instances of arguments.
Now before I make this sound too good here, we hqd MHAs who checked on us (yes, some even in the shower), a routine that  stqrted with groups ,we were awoken qt 7;45 and all made a mad scramble for the coffee. crappy decaf but it was coffee. I cannot wait to try the new  biggby by our house thqt was built this winter while I was done.
I was quiet, observing, and trying to figure out the people around me. To my psychiatrist I was withdrawing, isolating, and socially inappropriate. SIR, my normal may look a lot different than your normal but that is not a  psychological problem. . the major depression qnd fun little voice  screaming at me in my heqd provided plenty of entertainment.

Simon says

I always knew that this would be a journal of the different perspectives of life that I experience. It is my view of the world through experiences others may never have. My perspective on something major has changed and I will be sharing about this journey for a while, but let me start at the beginning.
I ignored the warning signs that I was depressed. I justified them. I ignored them. Obviously this is not the best response to take. At the time I was overwhelmed with the many health issues in my life and the fear that it will just continue to decline. We were also facing eviction from our apartment and had searched literally every resource we could. I began to think that Mom's life would be easier without me, that no one would notice or care, and that I could escape the pain. There was a voice in my head telling me I needed to die, that I was worthless, that no one loved me. So impulsively one night I took a bottle of coumadin, a blood thinner used in rat poisons. I then panicked and told Mom what I had done. I stayed in the hospital as a medical patient for 5 days but received no psychological treatment because they felt it was a one time illness. When I got home I began to research which of my medications would be more effective yet not painful. The same voice was almost constantly present telling me how worthless I was and how suicide was the only answer. Almost 2 weeks later to the day I attempted suicide again by taking a bottle of my cardiac medicine. I tried to hide it from Mom but one thing I cannot do is lie to her. I ended up spending all night in the emergency room as they monitored my blood pressure and heart rate. A whole bottle and neither level ever moved. God protected me for some reason. That afternoon they finally found an open bed in a psychiatric hospital, as the need is greater than the supply, and I was transferred to Detroit. I ended up spending a month there in treatment, mostly adjusting medications as we had to go slowly and carefully with my medical issues. I was diagnosed as Bipolar I with psychosis and Anxiety Disorder. I am now on 8 different medications to control everything.
This has been my worst nightmare. I could always handle whatever my body did but to have it interfere with my brain was something I could not imagine. I feel like my brain is floating in chemicals making it harder to think clearly and communicate what I want to say.
I will be writing more about my experiences from the other patients (Names changed for privacy) to medical staff to what I have learned. All I ask is that you please do not judge me as my diagnosis. I am still the same person I was before this happened and I am the same now, a little quieter but also a little wiser.

Homecoming

Today I was once again released from the rehab facility. I am so relieved to be free from all of the confines and limitations and difficult conditions. I celebrate my freedom and my overcoming and my accomplishments. I still have a ways to go, but I have gone so much further than I imagined possible. I use adapted tools for now (special dishes and silverware and pens) but will get back to using normal items. I still cannot do buttons or zippers or snaps or tie things but that will come with time. Thank God for pull on pants and super cute Sketchers tie-less shoes. I am able to do so much more than I could at the end of January and it is a blessing to be home. It feels weird to not be confined to such a small space, to be able to get a drink when I am thirsty, to have a choice over what I eat, to not share a bathroom with four strangers, to not have to wait until it is convenient for someone to give me my medicine. It would be better if my mother were not in the hospital right now recovering from a stroke and a serious infection. I am still lonely and still missing someone to talk to and be with.
Yet for so many at that place there will be no homecoming, no new freedoms, no return to family, no return to a "normal" life. That existence is all that they will know from now on and that breaks my heart. In so many ways it is so wrong. It is so neglectful, so undignified, so restrictive, so demeaning, so limited. People become diagnoses become problems. Many workers are there because they care and want to be there, but many are there because it is a job and it pays and they were hired. They do not have any investment in the job, any compassion, any dedication. It is a paycheck. The system is broken and after 3 months living it I can say how it is broken but not clearly how it needs to be fixed. There are so many things to fix and from so many directions - policy, hiring, staff behavior, staff ratio, facilities, etc.
Most of all tonight I am giving thanks for my return home and prayers for those that I left behind.