Mania

How do I let go and start over with 2 kids and nothing? I gave this relationship everything, 7 years fighting for something that only broke me. I had to quit my job and become a stay at home mom and a 24 hour caregiver to his dad. The relationship has been mentally unhealthy for me for years. Him threatening to keep the kids or I won't be able to see them unless I get a lawyer has worked keeping me here for the last few years. Top it off with not having a car, job, friends, or any family members I could stay with that would be fit to take 2 kids. I feel stuck!! He's never had to be a parent for more than a few hours a day. Our son was recently diagnosed being on the spectrum of autism so he needs to be cared for in ways he just isn't capable of. I've always been the one to take care of everything around the house! From cooking, cleaning, shopping, taking care of the kids, cutting the grass, fixing the gutters, getting the kids to and from school every day. And now his dad! He works so therefore he shouldn't have to do anything else. If I ask for help or feel overwhelmed he gets so hateful, telling me I can get the fuck out or if I don't like it I can find me somewhere else to stay. Belittling me as a mom while reminding me his kids will stay with him. I Feel guilty when I think about just walking away. I wish I could just say fuck it and good luck trying to replace me. The first time he has to call into work he'd be trying to get me back. Something snapped inside of me recently and now I can't pretend!! I'm tired of being sad feeling worthless. I just want to be the happy version of me. Suicidal thoughts trying to convince me death is the only way out!!!! I don't understand why leaving this behind is something so terrifying.

Hi I’m new! I have bipolar. I also suffer from anxiety and depression. I have spent a huge portion of my life improperly diagnosed with medications that were actually making me manic and out of control. I was substance abusing so I could try to control how I feel because the medication I was getting from a doctor wasn’t working. I was young and that was my logic. At the age of 19 years old, I met with a psychiatrist and she diagnosed me with bipolar which we already knew by that time. I went on from there and it turns out 7 years later, I’m still on the two main antipsychotics I was prescribed that day. These two medications changed my life. I felt happy and calm at the same time. I finally was able to grasp my thoughts and put everything back into its place. I felt peace. My life isn’t perfect but I’m happy and that’s all that matters. I still suffer though, I still end up in dark places in my head. I’ve missed huge events and gatherings because I couldn’t physically or mentally get myself to go due to anxiety. I’m here for support and to be supportive 💕

I am interested to hear what physical symptoms you experience with your bipolar 2. Is there something that you feel that signals you that you are manic or in a mixed episode? I think I have depression down pat. However, the other phases are harder for me recognize until well after. Just curious!

Hi, my name is taoiron. I'm here because
I don't have very many places I can go where people understand what I struggle with..
I truly hate myself. I hate everything about myself. If it were not for the fact that I have children I'm positive I would no longer exist.

I am not suicidal and never have been. It's just that it is a comforting thought that I wouldn't have to keep going.

My "official" diagnosis is Bipolar manic depression with very difficult anxiety.

This past year I came to realize the true scope of my struggles. I worked with a great therapist and he helped me understand so much about myself. He helped me develop the ability to see myself for what I really am and understand how I negatively impacted those I never meant to hurt. I discovered that I wasn't even close to who I thought I was.

I had no idea that the trauma I experienced as a child would impact me throughout my life. My parents had no idea of how to raise a child. I didn't either and until my daughters confronted me I was not aware that I passed trauma onto them. I made so many mistakes I couldn't list them all.
As for me.. my parents divorced when I was 3.. My mom destroyed my dad. She was not a good wife.. He was not a good husband..
I struggled from an early age. I never experienced confidence or self worth. I was never popular, a stark contrast to my younger sister. I struggled with school. I'm sure I have ADHD but that was not a thing back then. I was picked on and bullied constantly. I never had many friends. I have been able to keep a friendship with my best friend Mark for almost 35 years. He is one of my heros. He definitely got the short side of the stick but somehow he stuck with me this whole time.

My dad was a passive wimp. I can tell you exactly how many times he really played with me only because it only happened once. I remember every detail of it down to the exact toys and location.

My dad told me once when I was in 6th or 7th grade something that impacted me my whole life. I was doing homework and I was struggling he said "just do what you have to do to get by". I spent much of my life doing that very thing. That is a terrible thing to say to anyone.

I graduated high-school with 1/2 of an extra credit even after summer and night school. I'm actually very intelligent but I had not mastered the ability to focus.

16 days after I graduated and the day after my 18th birthday I left for Alabama. I had enlisted in the Army during my junior year of high-school. This was probably the best decision I ever made. I found something with a structure that I could do well. I was a Military Police Officer. I have worked in many aspects of law enforcement. During my 7th year I discovered PSD.. Personal Security Detail. I worked in that niche for 13 years. I transformed my body by taking up bodybuilding. I was very good at this and as time went by I became very sought after. I have provided personal security for many high ranking officers, digni

Part 1 of 2 As a bipolar disorder fighter, I am certain that a good percentage of fellows who have undergone diagnosis and confirmed the illness may find it hard to afford meds. This is rampant in countries where mental illness is never a top priority and only focuses on physical illness. Such countries have considerably high costs for psychiatric services and medications. In this article, I have crafted an overview of how it feels to survive without medication and the steps I have developed to manage and cope with the condition before getting on medication. The drive behind this is to provide comprehensive peer support to other victims who are aware of their conditions but are unable to afford medication.

First, I have to accept how hard it is to manage the illness without proper medication, but just by Adidas’ tagline- Impossible is Nothing. In my case, it begins with a constant reflection on a manic episode that I experienced and my overall view of what transpired. The ponder over the past ordeal makes me never want to experience anything of the sort again. Having a clear reflection of the past events, which in most cases do not escape off-memory in bipolar disorder victims, is the number one tool that I use to keep alert, so as to avoid a replica of the scenes.

Big dreamers like people with bipolar disorder always want to set a standard by trying to inspire impossible stories in society. In order to meet the standards, I tend to keep to certain morals which I consider right for whichever dream and ambition I look toward. In this way, I try so much and I have to admit that it has never been perfect- to keep to the rules that are able to tap more opportunities aligned with the direction of my ambitions. It has therefore become my habit to keep at par with in-depth information regarding the condition from different reputable platforms and spaces. In the spaces, most information I source entails symptoms, coping strategies, management, and places to find other forms of psychiatric services like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. The resources have immensely helped me to know and understand myself better as far the mental illness is concerned.

However, even with the resources and self-awareness I have developed, surviving plainly without medications entails much more. First, the condition comes with some level of social anxiety, which particularly originates from the fact that other people within your circle always know about your manic or depressive episodes. This sometimes poses great fear to victims while in the outside environment. Hard enough, beating the underlying social anxiety forms the basic step that marks the healing and coping process without meds. In dealing with the problem, self-awareness knowledge has been greatly significant in multiple ways. First, I do explain myself to people within my social space, especially when I realize that we could have similar interests in certain topics, and may need to catch up more. Therefore, most people within my daily interactive cycle have become more of my ambassadors, who have significantly helped me to fight a better percentage of social anxiety that society poses on the illness. I have come to realize that when people know you, they tend to explain to many others about you more than you can do for yourself. However, not in all cases do they give the information that should be passed, but at least whatever they spread always begin with information regarding your battle or condition with bipolar disorder. With this, they voluntarily propagate awareness of the illness hence creating a more effective stigma-battling campaign which is always a win for bipolar disorder victims.

Another strategy that I employed after my first manic episode is creating a mark that shifts people’s focus from what happened so that they can create another debatable topic, not necessarily on the actual events of the episode. As bipolar victims, we always form topics of discussion in most settings where we exist. As a victim, I have to admit that the moods, feelings, and actions of a bipolar disorder patient are fully controlled by the outside society. This makes the reason why bipolar disorder is a life-long illness since society will exist forever. With this information, I learned that to cope and refocus on my ambitions and dream, it had to begin with effectively fighting off the social stigma that follows the episodes.

In regard, I got my first ever body mini-tattoos on the forehead, neck, and left cheeks. As we all agree, it is not common for people to get inks in such places due to linkages that the society has with such acts and so, when one does such, the attention will be definitely drawn to them with more people discussing the inks. On this action though, I am uncertain whether it worked my way, but for a fact, I believed that I shifted the

Dealing with Chronic Pain and Bipolar Disorder at 57

I'm 57 years old, and I face the challenges of Chronic Pain and Bipolar Disorder (Type 2). It all started when I was 20, during my final year of engineering. I used to get chronic headaches every day, especially during stressful times like exams.

The doctor in India labeled it as tension headaches and gave me Haloperidol for a month, which helped. However, soon after, I began experiencing intense morning anxiety attacks that lasted for hours. It got so bad that I had to skip a job interview due to a massive anxiety attack during a train journey.

Feeling overwhelmed, I even considered ending my life but sought comfort from my dad. Eventually, I stumbled upon a book about mental health and realized I might be dealing with major depression or manic-depressive illness. A visit to a psychiatrist resulted in a prescription for Imipramine and Diazepam, the latter providing much-needed relief and helping me regain control.

Despite side effects, I joined a Master's program and, with medication, achieved stability. However, stopping the meds led to a rebound of anxiety, causing me to leave college for a job. A stable routine, yoga, and a supportive work environment provided temporary relief, but I refrained from seeing a psychiatrist due to various reasons.

Life took a positive turn when I got into a prestigious management institute. However, in 2000, chronic low back pain emerged during my time in the UK. Relocating to the USA didn't resolve the pain, but managing it through John Sarno's approach helped.

At 38, extreme morning anxiety attacks returned, marking the beginning of a challenging journey with two conditions: Chronic Pain and Bipolar Type 2 with mixed features. Despite a supportive family, I had to stop working at 55 due to chronic pain making it impossible to hold a sedentary job.

Managing each day is tough, especially during flare-ups and mixed episodes. Grateful for my supportive family and available medical options, I acknowledge the ongoing challenge of balancing both conditions.

Exercise helps with depression, but it worsens pain and anxiety during flare-ups. Daily routines are beneficial, but sticking to them becomes challenging during difficult times. Aging exacerbates chronic pain, adding stress to Bipolar Type 2.

Things that have helped me, even if just a little, alongside medications:

Daily routine

Planning tasks that bring joy

Support groups for Chronic Pain and Depression

Mindfulness meditation

Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT)

Surgery for specific pain issues

Daily walks, considering limitations

Regular breaks from sitting

Reading philosophy books for mental strength

Talking to close friends for distraction

Planning enjoyable activities with my wife

Exploring nearby places with my wife as much as possible.

#Bipolar #PMDD

Part 1 of 2 Arguably, there is no laboratory test applicable to determine whether one is Bipolar or not. The diagnosis is primarily based on individual historical background with unclear mechanisms for each level. For my case, after being deeply engrossed in the management, coping strategies, and diagnosis of Bipolar Disorder, I hereby ink down my history, which could be possibly linked to the condition. This is particularly to help in self-diagnosing, which has been a real deal in managing my condition.

For the last twenty-seven years, life has been difficult to navigate for myself and the people I love. The trauma of poverty in my lifeline began just one month after my birth when my biological father passed away. Whatever followed after then has been a myriad of mysteries. Not about the single-room-old grass-thatched house that dad had built for mother and us years before his demise, not about constantly falling victim to measles and kwashiorkor that clearly resulted from improper dieting and conditional mal-nutrition since my jobless mother could hardly maintain the right diet for a family of four, not about high infestation of jiggers that permanently deformed my toe-nails for constantly going to the local primary school on bare-foot, just but a few case scenarios. Honestly, the trend of my childhood life kept me terrified about what the future had for me.

While growing up, I had completely given up on life and never believed in education as a savior as was purported by my kindergarten teachers, conventionally called nursery. I had then developed a behavior of intentionally missing classes while spending time on a sugarcane plantation with my other friends, just to chew enough of it since I was always sure that surviving on sugarless white porridge for the whole day was routine back home.

One evening, after spending my whole day at school for fear of my mother realizing that I had started missing classes, something awful happened. As usual, I left school for home hungry, hoping to find some porridge in the jerrycan, but this was not the case. Having noticed the despairing response on my face, my eldest sister took to a nearby avocado tree that belonged to my stepmother to find some ready or almost ready fruits so I could eat. In the trial and error process, she had wasted many avocadoes and my stepbrother could not just take it since my father had raised a conservative family, a trait which was also fostered by poverty at home. He then tried stopping my sister but since the mission was still incomplete, she went ahead trying to get a ready fruit. In no time, they had engaged in a physical fight, with step-brother belting her continuously and carelessly as she struggled to alight from the tree. As per the adage, a hungry man is an angry man, I got totally uncontrollable and picked a heavy stone, as young as I was, and charged it towards my stepbrother at top strength. The only thing I remember after then was my brother following me closely for an act of revenge with the same stone but I was able to escape into a nearby maize plantation.

The scenario created constant upheavals between my biological mother and stepmother until I was sent to stay with my uncle, just to cool down the tension that went through the healing process from the stone injury. Again, at my uncle’s place was a different life altogether that shaped a lot of things in my life. First, school was mandatory, and reviewing daily classwork was a routine so I had no option but to stick to it. In no time, I greatly improved my class performance and changed from the bottom five in my previous primary school to the top five, thanks to the daily night tutoring with my education-oriented uncle.

At this time, I had started believing that the only tool I had to transform our life and deliver me from experiencing a replica of the past life was education. I decided to give it my all and became a top student up to my last paper in secondary school which got me to university. After completing my degree studies and graduating with second class honors-Upper Division in Communication and Public Relations, I was now ready to serve my family, and the community at large since I was a second-degree victim of poverty, with a better part of my education funded by the society. However, this did not happen so fast, which again sent me to frequently picture my life before engaging in active smoking of marijuana with a delusional belief relieving stress. Just to fulfill my family’s expectations, I engaged in online freelancing services where I got some writing projects on different topics from students in the UK, USA, and Australia majorly. While still, this could not sufficiently support my siblings’ school fees and I did extra work to manage my basic bills. Every time, I kept hoping that things would change for