Losing My Mind. Seriously Losing My Mind.

[Phlebas]

It became obvious to me a long time ago that I experience many signs and symptoms of Bi-Polar, and that I do indeed

suffer from the condition. The root cause of my mental health issues of course arises from my BDD, and the main issue for

me associeated with that is social withdrawal, fatigue, and major depressive disorder/major depressive episodes. But I also

suffer periods of "mania" or "manic depression" - I've always had "stages" in my life where I suffer (Really suffer) from

unexplainable "bursts" of uncontrollable emotion.

Whether it was bursting into tears and uncontrollable sobs in later primary school (As early as grade two, and more pronounced

and frequent each proceeding year) for such things as being confronted by a teacher like "Did you draw on that desk?!" or

"Why did you change the password on the classroom computer!?" even when I clearly knew I hadn't done the things I was being

accused of or asked if I was the culprit of I would begin crying while trying to explain. I remember trying to stay calm in

those situations so that I wouldn't be embarrassed in front of my classmates, and so that I would be able to explain that it

wasn't me - and possibly even tell on the person who was responcible for said problem - but it was something beyond any control.

I didn't have any desire to cry, I didn't have any reason to cry, I didn't even want to be crying. I hated myself for it. I was

also incredibly confused over why I didn't have control over this particular emotion - because I really, really didn't want to

or need to be crying. I was confident in my defense and knew what I had to say to correct the teachers misgivings, but a lump

would form in my throat, and attempts to suppress it would make my voice come out in a "squeak", I would take another breath, but

as the words would come out calm and confident, uncontrollable sobs would come inbetween and wash away any appearance or feeling

of control.

By high-school it was more important for my "survival" and respect of peers that I contain this. I became increasingly good at

controlling it and avoiding these scenarios. But I still remember a few instances in which they occurred and the mortified

terror I felt at my helplesness to control these unconcsious "outbursts". The last two in a school setting I can remember very

distinctly - I did manage to suppress them, just barely.

The second last one occurred in 2007 when I was in Year 10 (Tenth Grade). Two girls in glass had been giving me a hard time. I

was sitting at a desk in front of them - so they were directly behind me - and they were shooting spitballs at me, and throwing

paper at my head. I remember one of these spitballs hit me on the neck and I nearly lost it, I turned around and very 'boldly'

with a strong hint of anger told them "****. Off!". The teacher sent me outside.

Shortly after being sent out the oldest teacher in the school came by and saw me sitting outside the classroom, I don't know what I looked like

at the time, but in Year 10 I tried to put on a "tough" front. I was one of the "cool" kids, it was near the end of the year by

this point, and I was seriously starting to lose my grip on things (About five months after this I experienced my second ever

[that i know of] major depressive episode, and the first of which in I googled my symptoms and began to understand they weren't

unique to just me). I remember after being sent outside I spat on the pavement outside the classroom before sitting on the bench.

I was very visibly shaking, it's another symptom I can't control and one I'm even less adept at "nullifying" despite conscious efforts

and a lot of practice.

Despite my attempt to stay calm, I must have looked anything but that. Because this teacher looked seriously worried when she saw me.

She asked me to come and sit down with her at a nice table near some small trees, visible from the classroom window. I remember everyone

in class seemed to be watching me out of the corners of their eyes and turning thier heads to face me with astonishing frequency.

I can't remember the full extent of the conversation I had with this teacher, but whatever was wrong with me at the time, she knew

better than I did what was wrong me, though I didn't realize it at the time. I remember she asked me how I got sent outside and

I gave some vague details, but I must have been on the verge of tears already because I kept my voice very deep, not "low and quiet",

but deep. That's one of the ways in which I manage "the sobs" without sounding like a frog about to croak and cry. The last thing she

asked me was "Do you feel like you can't cope?" - All I could do was nod. Yes, I can't cope. I was on the verge of breaking. I was telling

myself "Don't ******* cry, don't ******* cry, don't ******* cry, calm, control, calm, control, calm, calm, calm..." After that she let

me go. I went back to class and I didn't say a word, though I'm sure people noticed the glaze in my eyes.

The second time was in "College" or Year 12, which is like the last two years of school before heading to University. It was at a completely

different school, new teachers, friends, even a "new me". Though by this point I had already experienced a few major depressive episodes and

was known to turn up one week and then disappear for a month before suddenly reappearing - often still heavily depressed. I had experienced

moments in class when I just wanted to cry for no reason, really, really let out. I didn't understand the first few times and when people

would talk to me I'd say nothing because I was on the verge of crying, if I opened my mouth it would all come spilling out. It really made my

life hell. But those are episodes caused by severe depression, not reaction to things a teacher or classmate said.

The last time it happened was during a class known as "Outdoor Ed", I know I'd experienced multiple major depressive episodes by this point

because I only took this class in the last semester of my last year there before I was due to finish. We were practicing abseiling off of the

school bridge, something about my harness wasn't secured correctly (Though there was no chance of falling or anything majorly dangerous) and

the teacher decided to make me an example in front of the class. I sat there on the harness, trying my best to look confident, but it was

plainly apparent I was uncomfortable in that situation. The teacher really did make fun of me, and while a few people in the class laughed

(A fairly large class) most people actually thought poorly of the teacher for it and told me afterwards. I think the only reason I managed not

to cry is because I would have cut myself loose on the spot if I did. But I was very quiet afterwards, and though friends and aquantences

came up to me after the teacher was done with his "example" and said things like "He's a dickhead, he didn't have to do that. We're all a team

and we're supposed to make sure eachothers gear is properly tied and fastened" I could only nod and barely get out "Yeah I don't care..."

I'd almost made it. I'd struggled through hell, put in so much effort, but I never went to school again after that and ended up staying in bed

for months - literally months - afterwards. Another depressive episode, and the last one that cost me my Year 12 certificate. I'd missed over

eight months of school already before that, yet despite brain fog, despite being unable to think, I was still on check to pass and finish. My

depression went undiagnosed, all my mental illness went undiagnosed. Everyone in my family seemed to forget about me. I was like a ghost,

invisible in my room. Coming out only to go to the toilet and an occassional melted cheese on bread "snack" or "meal". I lost a lot of

weight during this time, I didn't speak to my family for up to a fortnight at a time, and yet nothing was done. I don't know what the hell they

thought, but they never did anything to help me. They told me I was lazy and shouted at me to go to study and go to school, and I shouted back.

Four years later and I still haven't gotten my Year 12. Instead, I've had a rollercoaster of miserable setback after miserable setback. I've

watched the literal deteriation of my mind, loss of friends, and loss of just about anything I had. I've become physically weak and incredibly

skinny to the point that I can touch the tip of my thumb to the tip of my pinky around my wrist with ease. I'm a twenty year old 6"3' male and

I can wrap my thumb and forfinger around my wrist with room to spare. No one could care any less about my deterioration, I've contemplated

suicide more times than I can remember. It's gotten to the point that I've done so much research into different suicide methods I know for sure

which one I want to settle on should things get to that point again. I will be "successful" on my first attempt. None of that hospital bed

nonsense and being asked by family "Why did you do that?" "How could you be so selfish?". **** them, they've never done anything to help my

condition. I finally managed to spell it out for my Mum by writing her a detailed letter, a week later and she became indifferent, now months

later and it's obvious she doesn't have the capacity to understand. No one in my family does, it's simply beyond any realm of experience they've

ever been through.

No doubt they've experienced depression and low mood. Depression and low mood is nothing though. I've seen people complain of depression

caused by a long-term relationship breakup or the loss of a loved one, but the debilitating effects they experience and whine about are

something I've experienced near constantly for years and have been able to manage - they completely shut down from it. Yeah, because it takes

practice you Barstewards. They always get better though. Always. Every ******* time. And they soon forget what it felt like, and then that it

ever existed at all. No, most people are incapable of understanding it despite whatever they might say or think.

My signs of mania are:

- Start thinking I can study anything, become anything. Any profession: Doctor, Psychologist, Psychiatrist, Mathematician,

Scientist, Astronomer, famous writer, etc, etc, etc.

- Start thinking I can "do" anything: Climb the highest mountains, ride around the planet on a bicycle, sail the seas, you name it.

- Fantasize and plan taking over the world: Take parliament hostage, announce on every TV station at once "I'm taking the planet

hostage, I have nuclear weapons.", start thinking about secret organizations I could start with the sole purpose of assassinating

evil dictators and suppressors of freedom. Start thinking about becoming some charismatic leader during the early years of contact

with an alien species - Me: "Humans are no strangers to war! We will suppress this alien threat, we will conquer this species, and we

will teach them what it means to be human!".

The zany s*** I come up with in my head sounds absolutely plausible to me. I make all sorts of plans on scribble them on notepads and in text

files on my computer. I start to write them more and more to the point that I might write a few pages worth a day. I really start to believe

I'm going to do all these things - and then I crash and return to reality. My manic stages are never as long as my depressed states and

major depressive episodes. The longest period of "mania" I've experienced is something close to ten weeks. It only ever happened for that long

once, and I believe there were a few minor depressed moments during that time, but not significant enough for me to remember. Maybe just

periods of normalcy, I can't remember.

One other sign of mania that I definitely experience and recognize: I write more. A lot more. Blog posts, forum posts, you name it. Normally I

struggle to write a few paragraphs - suddenly my fingers are on fire and I can type and type into eternity. What I type might not even make

sense, hell, it's possible none of this makes sense. But this period is always followed by major depressive episode, and this one is definitely

going to be big. I have been rescheduling my psychology appointments, missing them because I've been too tired, too depressed, too fatigued. Now

I know that I really need to go and hurry up with getting started on treatment, but it's too late. The chances of me experiencing a low before

my appointment are pretty much 100%. I don't remember the last time I experienced this level of mania for more than a few days before hitting a

critical low point. I feel on top of the world, but I have that sinking feeling in the back of my mind too, and I know it's going to surface

before I get the treatment I so desperately want and need. My first psyche appointment is still twelve days away, depending on how things go I

could be in for some serious trouble in the days ahead.

I'm worried. I'm really worried about what I might do. I'm not in my right mind at all, I have very little control. Today I've experienced

extreme mood swings from near-******ious aggression and agitation for absolutely no ******* reason to feelings of love and joy and admiration

for my family and the people around me. I went and contacted old friends, even some who it was probably not appropriate to contact, without a

care in the world. "We can all be friends! Happy happy happy!" was my prevailing thought at the time. Then out of no where I lost interest

and thought about how much I wish the neighbours would shut their ******* voices up.

I'm not well. I'm really not well at all, and I don't have the means to help myself at this moment in time. I'm so ****ed. I am absolutely

****ed.

[rednamalas]

Aw, do you have a good doc? sounds like you can benefit from a good therapist.....there is help out there, but you really must continue to seek it out. Please do, eh?

[Lori123]

You are dealing with so much. I have a good friend who is at the end of his rope as well, and his family doesn't give a crap either. I can't imagine how that must feel.

The key is to find a good psychiatrist, which isn't easy. I've met some who were just a-holes, some that were stupid. If you are working with a psychiatrist, or counselor, and you feel like you're not getting anything out of it, move on to someone else. That is truly the best advice I can give you. You need to find one who will really listen to you, ask you questions, and talk to you about your options for treatment. If they look like they aren't listening, they're not. And if all they do is pull out the prescription pad before you've finished telling them what you're going through, leave. It took me a long time and seeing a lot of doctors and therapists to figure this out. Learn from my mistake and keep looking until you find the right doc. It will be worth it.

[bisous]

from your post i can deduce you're in the UK right?

you can see a psychiatrist more urgently if you go to accident and emergency or call your local Home Treatment Team who can come to your house or you can go and visit them where they are based.

I think given what you've said here about the severity of both your depression and your mania, they would definitely be willing to see you.

Do it asap. Good luck. xxx

[SmilingElephant]

Something is in the air! I've been going through these types of feelings as well. However i am usually on the manic end of the spectrum.

What happens with me is that i go thru a period of feeling like i can do anything, i'm superwoman and nothing can stop me. But at the same time there's this underlying irritability...i get irritated when ppl suggest things to me and the WAY they suggest i do things as if i'm stupid. Little things tick me off...i was on an important call at work last week regarding something work related and my manager was continuously pacing in front of me as i spoke on the phone...i almost screamed at him...but i took a deep breath and whispered to him to stop pacing!

I also notice that i feel a LOT more awkward around people. I feel like everyone thinks im just so stupid...that i'm a joke...when behind this face is a very smart, and creative and talented young woman. My mind is a Rubik's cube....i just feel so unappreciated.

After a few weeks of feeling all the above...i become depressed and i go downhill for about 2 weeks with the crying and the suicidal thoughts...and before i know it...i get revved up again and i'm back on top of the world...it seems like every year tho...i crack. But since being diagnosed in 2010...i now know that i can go get help...im THINKING about going back on my meds still....its been 9 months since i've taken anything for my Bipolar disorder. I'm getting more and more impulsive...and it's affecting a lot of areas in my life.