Into the black hole and back again.

Sometimes it was pitch black and sometimes it was an awesome day. Years of torment, endless cycles, treatment, over and over again. I suffer from manic-depressive disorder. Medication helps but I sometimes find myself feeling hopeless. My last suicide attempt landed me in front a psychiatrist who had treated hundreds like me. It was the result of many years of self help.

I am not sure when I realized that I was not well mentally. After self-medicating with alcohol I had finally reached the bottom. It appeared that my brain was out of control and I could not stop the impulse buying, emotional breakdowns, and the “I am invincible” feelings that dominated my life. Friends had wondered what was wrong with me, my family could not understand my temperament, employers were glad to hire me and then were glad I was gone. I worked in spurts, sometimes eighteen hours a day, other days barely able to finish my work.

My wife is a saint. She has put up with me through all of the buying sprees, job losses, family disasters, and ruined vacations. I was dying mentally and no one could help me. What I remember in my life is all of the anguish, self inflicted pain, stupid statements, lost opportunities, and constantly berating myself for being out of control. And then came my third suicide attempt. I took a whole bottle of Ativan. When I woke up my speech was slurred and it was assumed I was having a stroke. The ER nurse said the blood work showed high levels of the drug in my blood work. Rather then be committed by green warrant I volunteered to go peacefully.

My first day was a blur and the doctors let me sleep. The second morning I was transferred to another ward. Once deemed stable I was sent home. The next morning I went to work. My wife had called work to report the events of the week and I received a mixed reception. I was now under several medications to stabilize my mood. Gradually work stresses became less of a crisis. But I was still tormented by the underlying roller coaster that described my life. I began to enjoy work more, but still drank in moderation. That was a mistake as it cancelled out the good effects of my medication. When my doctor asked me how much wine I drank I would tell him a glass a day. He told me not to drink at all. I finally defeated that demon with help as I begged God to make me stronger.

The counseling process after discharge was not what I expected. The insurance company approved weekly visits, and after a set limit was reached I was cured. I have had three counselors during my various treatments and they were very different. The sessions were not what I expected. Counselors were utilizing self-help techniques. I would be asked to recount an experience and then would be asked about my reaction? I finally realized this was normal. We would go down a path until I had nothing more to say, and then touch on other areas until we found another possible source of pain. The process went on for six months.

I was not healed during counseling but I did learn to use self-evaluation to identify why I felt stress, or what to do when I was manic. Those episodes hurt worse than depression because I would spend money we did not have. My wife monitors my spending and I keep my wallet away from the computer. It has not been easy but we are making progress. My relationship with my son has improved dramatically as I no longer feel compelled to micro manage his life. The yelling sessions have stopped on my part. When he gets upset I listen and he vents. I am his sounding board and cannot let my feelings interfere. Once he has calmed down I continue to listen until the rage subsides and he settles down. Until I learned that process we were enemies and not father and son. If I had done that when he was a child I am sure his life would have been more pleasant.

For those of you who have never been down this mental rabbit hole some of what I have written will seem strange. But I am speaking from the perspective of someone with a manageable mental problem. It is a real problem, although there are those who would disagree with me. I cannot erase the past but I can keep it from tormenting me any longer.

My prayer today is for all of us who have personal mental health conditions, for those who live with us, and for those who have dedicated their lives to helping us.