Coming Out

This blog entry has been written about a million times in my heart and mind. I have been afraid to actually start typing it. Not that I'm really a private person, I talk openly about most of my struggles, and if you have read my other blog (sevenstuckys.blogspot.com) you know exactly what I'm talking about. I am actually near tears and feeling sick about this, but have had repeated reminders that this is something I need to do. I don't know why, and I wish I could stop feeling so strongly about sharing this, but here I am......

Recently I read something written by an overweight girl, and she talked about "wearing her struggles on the outside" and I thought "I'm so glad I can hide my struggles. In my mind. Safe and sound" LOL but the more I thought about it, the more I thought "that's not very fair. If she can talk openly about her obvious struggles, I can talk openly about my inner struggles, too" That makes me sound so much better than I am. But I still feel this is something I have to share.

The problem now, is where do I begin? I guess I will bore some of my followers, and give a brief history.

When I was 17, I started taking anti-depressants. I was on them until I got pregnant with Karleah (I was 20) and got back on them as soon as she was born. After that, I didn't go off them again (even pregnant). I knew what a danger it was to be off them. I knew what it was like to live in "darkness" and knew it was a bad idea to venture there. Of course, I still had dark times, but nothing like when I went off the medication.

Four years ago, the medication I had been on for 12 years stopped working. Apparently this happens a lot, and I knew that but I guess I didn't think it would happen to me. That stuff always happens to "the other guy". I fought it for a long time, I could feel the dark depression seeping in, and tried to ignore it. I thought I had gotten strong enough that maybe I just didn't need the pills at all.

Things got bad for a while, I finally got in to my doctor, a counselor, and got some new prescriptions. One of them made the depression the worst it's been since high school. I don't remember all the problems I had, but I know that it took 4 prescriptions before I started to feel better. Glen died. Then Julie died. I was doing OK though, finally had the right medication.

That lasted about 2 1/2 years. Then I started to struggle again. I stopped eating, and when I did eat I would make myself throw it up. I tried to deny that it was bad, or that it was hurting me. Though I knew it all along. I was in counseling for the 3rd time in 4 years. My counselor suggested I take a test, and I laughed out loud when she suggested it. "Surely you don't think I have that problem?" She said, it can't hurt to see, right? So I agreed. Most "mental illness" (including depression) there is no real test for, it's all trial and error. This was just multiple choice test to see if I fell within certain guidelines for a disorder.

The results were pretty strong, and she was certain I had the disorder. I went to my primary care doctor, and he did another written test with me, asked me several questions, and suggested we start another prescription. It took MONTHS and MONTHS to get to the right dosage, and to be able to stop counseling. But the diagnosis was right.

Bipolar II disorder. I was diagnosed about 1 year ago. When my counselor suggested the testing, I thought "I"m not crazy! Why would she suggest that? What have I said in sessions to mislead her?" When I took the tests, and read about it online, and talked to my doctor, I began to realize that I did have this disorder. When I heard bipolar before, I thought it was really extreme, serious mood swings. Huge problems for everybody around the person. There are two types, Bipolar I (or Bipolar 1) is more "extreme", the one people know about and think of when the word "bipolar" comes up. Bipolar II (Bipolar 2) is kind of mellowed out. The emotions aren't as obvious on the outside, they are more inside. My extremes were, wanting attention and hating it, wanting to binge and purge, wanting to hate myself and love myself. Constant battles in my head. Not literally "voices" but never-ending struggles.

Once I had the right medication and right dosage, I was amazed at the difference. How easy it was to be "in the middle". So, I can joke about "bipolar" like I couldn't joke about depression, because it is funny sometimes. My closest friends that knew this a year ago, tease me when I am "being bipolar" and it makes me laugh. It's OK. I've lost a few friends due to this coming up. That's OK. I don't need people in my life that refuse to try and understand me.

So, there you have my biggest secret. Laugh, tease, it's OK, I don't mind. Just don't say "Amberleah is bipolar". I'm not. I have bipolar disorder. But it's under control, and I am happier and mentally healthier than I have been in a long, long time. I love my life, and I'm blessed with many people that love me even though I'm "crazy"