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´╗┐Bipolar Disorder: A Personal Story of Triumph Over Suicide and Mental Illness Personal Statement: It is my thought that as your Official Guide on Enlightenment, I should share some of my personal background and experiences so that you can earn to know me and notice where I stand.

I've had a life absolute of suffering but if you are to truly perceive blessings, you want to go through suffering and elation over it.

I personally don't assume you can overcome real crises without acquiring spirituality.

If anyone wishes to collision me, please email me at or designate me at 561-735-7958 Manic Depression or Bipolar Disorder Like in Alcoholics Anonymous, I sometimes wanted to roar to the world, “I am a Bipolar.
” Why? Because I was desperate for backing when I top contracted Bipolar Disease, but offices was not forthcoming.
Oh yes, there were the electroshock treatments that in 1991 made me a blithering idiot or in 1995 temporarily lifted my nervous clinical melancholy for one full week before submerging me again in drudgery.

During this week of freedom, I was so happy that my dejection had lifted that I stupidly gave up my enthusiasm duration disability and mutual to my professorial duties at Stony Brook University on Long Island, New York.
When the dejection returned, all of a sudden I was gone from the university for a word that lasted five years.

I had to reapply and earn re-approved for my desire term disability.

The paperwork should hold taken me at most a yoke of hours.

Instead like my original application, it took me three weeks.

That’s how tiring it was for me to do anything.
It would be three years closing before the disfavour of this indisposition allowed me to once more facade my university colleagues through attending my individual and colleague Bill’s retirement party.

From 1991 through 1995, I was hospitalized four to five times, each case for several weeks in three different hospitals.

I hated it each time.

I couldn’t wear my hairpiece and when that door locked me in the psychiatric ward, I knew I was trapped in a system I detested.

Oftentimes, I would tactic my avoid in that I would hasp out the door with visitors after visiting hours, but I never found the courage to do so.
Had I tried and failed, I envisioned being placed in a straightjacket like in the movies.

I had sunk pretty low from being an sage Professor scientist who now accepted his stockpile that this is the way his misplaced life would be from here on in.

In March of 1995, I tactical my suicide.

I had vocal to a patient in one of my hospital visits who described her suicide attempt with an overdose of pills.

She sighed when she told me that her experience was not a advantage one but I wasn’t listening.
I had been a capsule taker all my life, so I believed I finally had found a style out of a universe that was telling me that there was no manner out.

Only through Divine Providence of God coming to my wife Marcia am I alive today.

And I’m so unhappy now that Marcia passed on March 18, 2011.
She saved my life but I wasn’t able to recycle hers.

I took drugs for the voices I heard in my master and for the psychosis that accompanied my mania.
The crew effects of the drugs were involuntary twitching of the lips, brain fog, and tremors to the dot that I could not image my name.

The antidepressant drugs that I tried never worked and only months of the track of circumstance brought me out of my episodes of severe clinical depression.

My only respite was the two hours of land that I got from sheer fatigue each night.

I’ve never figured out why moor was able to provide that relief but in retrospect, the doctors should own heavily sedated me with the most dreadful sleeping pills.

After all, isn’t that what they do, direct drugs? The three different psychiatrists that I had during this occasion phrase never really talked to me, never got at what I was feeling.
Their role was to provide their patients with pharmaceuticals regardless of drug troupe effects.

When all else failed, I resorted to suicide by swallowing 200 aspirin and codeine pills that my mother had brought me from Toronto.
At the time, my wife Marcia and my youngest daughter Erin were shopping forty-five minutes away from our home.

They had no thought about what I had planned.

I opened the two bottles of pills and took one or two pills at first, followed by four then six then eight.

I was a pro at receiving pills and the two hundred pills disappeared into my paunch in moderate fifteen or twenty minutes.

I went to lie down and finally after months of finding it impossible to find a recess for myself, I felt at peace.

It was too delayed to opposite the process and I was waiting to see that irradiate that kin who obtain survived brewing death experiences speak about.

Oops, I realized that I hadn’t written a suicide missive to Marcia and the family.

Nor had I recorded the date for posterity.

I was certain, however, that I was going to die.

Meanwhile a miraculous intervention was occurring at the diner 45 minutes away by car.
Erin and Marcia had fair ordered lunch when Marcia vocal to Erin, “We keep to go.
Something’s wrong with dad.

” When they showed up back at the abode and woke me up, I blurted out what I had done.

Marcia immediately called 911 and the Nesconset, Long Island Fire Department responded within minutes.

I initially refused to be taken to the emergency room, but Marcia pleaded with them and me.

The sadness and desperation on her guise changed my temperament and all of a sudden I was being lifted off our king-size bed onto a stretcher.
With sirens blasting, I found myself in a surreal state.

There were no beds at the emergency room, only an uncomfortable succinct stretcher in an melody conditioned room with recognizeable overhead fluorescent lights.

I was arctic and had to pee.

An unkind promote provided a metal urinal and I missed and urine was all over the sheet sunshade the stretcher.
The boost was less than compassionate.

I felt humiliated and embarrassed, and within minutes someone placed a catheter into my penis.

The catheter was painful and never should own been inserted.

The worse was yet to come as doctors and nurses stood over me while they pumped my stomach.
They kept inserting this stinking cylinder through my nose.

I was wishing it was over and finally for what seemed like forever, it was over, as everyone left.

After more juncture had elapsed, of which I obtain no account, I remember finally being transferred to a bed that actually accommodated my 6 foot 2 inch height.

That was the last phenomenon I remembered as I was in and out and chiefly out sleeping for the succeeding 48 to 72 hours.

The caring nurture on dutifulness had told Marcia that they didn’t know whether I was going to make it.

I had fallen down a bottomless cavity and finally hit bottom.
I was embarrassed and ashamed but didn’t recognize how I would prolong to appearance this nervous clinical depression.

Days later, I made a second young try at suicide with sixteen pills, inactive considered an overdose, and had my stomach pumped again.

Marcia was fed up and dumped me without a neck goodbye on the steps of the admissions office of the South Oaks Psychiatric Hospital.
I dreaded returning and felt that this was the closing of the file and the hindmost of my freedom.
This is where I would remain for the hindmost of my days.

I had hallucinated and seen my hairdressers with orange and purple hair and empirical unethicalness in paintings and people.

I had delusions of grandeur reasoning I was the Messiah.
In my 1991 episode, I played chess with Saddam Hussein as we strategized during the finest Gulf War.
Ironically, I didn’t manoeuvre chess.

I even called the White House to chatter to Barbara Bush to donate her my advice for ending the war.
I had experienced psychosis at the pile of my mania and I had crashed to drastic dejection to the ultimate bottom, suicide.

Several months closing when I had miraculously recovered without the support of drugs from my suicide attempt and nervous depression, I found myself at a logical ailment help group.
The meeting was attended by parents of heirs who had the illness and I qualified because in August of 1994 and June of 1995, my twofold sons, Sean and Seth had their top bouts respectively of Bipolar Disorder.
I always felt that I was destined to keep the malady at age 50 so I could understand what they were and are still going through.
I was the finest to hold Bipolar Disorder in the family.

My father suffered from hopelessness but never experienced mania.
My psychiatrist felt that the mania probably came from my mother who he suggested was hypo-manic.
Identical dual studies own shown that Bipolar Disorder, or Manic Depression as the disorder used to be called, is genetic in about half the cases.

That procedure that half the time only one selfsame dual has the illness.

Where both twins are sick, you sometimes see one with Bipolar Disorder and the final with Schizoaffective Disorder or Schizophrenia.
The “schizo” attachment signifies an additional thought ailment that can accompany the twin mania and psychosis as empirical in Bipolar Disorder.
Bipolar as its duration implies is different than the “schizo” disorders in that it is a mind ailment with swings from the big of mania to the low of depression.

All types of cerebral disorder are chemical imbalances in the brain and are not the oversight of the unfortunate and often surprised recipient who is diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder.
No one knows the vanguard of Bipolar Disorder and after doing regressive therapy back to my mothers womb, I am not at all convinced that a genetic explanation in families such as mine is the escort for transmission to descendants like my sons.

There is so much bio-electric job occurring in the womb, especially in the birth canal religious to birth, that may mend the neurotransmitters’ and hormones’ amounts and actions to form the stage hindmost for the attack of the disease.

Often the ailment is not diagnosed for years because it seems that inability to do homework or axis in school can be explained by other problems such as stress deficit illness or importance deficit hyperactive disorder.
The textbooks gossip about Bipolar Disorder being diagnosed in successors as early as age 8 but my wife Marcia was a special learning pedant and she blatant the mood swings of the mania and melancholy of Bipolar Disorder or Manic Depression in some of her 4 year olds.

Most persons are diagnosed in their teens or twenties like my sons.

There is a smaller band who come down with the infection at about age 40.
Rarely does one see anyone like myself at age 50.
A children doctor, a pediatrician, in his behind forties once stopped by my office at the university reasonable to meet me and understand that there was someone else like him who had the sickness at such an older age in life.

He too was the first in his issue and had to grant up his medical practice.

I hope that I gave him hope.

I was out of the university for five years on a crave term disability and had moderate reciprocal to Stony Brook to once again move up my professorial duties when this fine family man stopped by.

It’s a humiliation that mental ailment quiescent has the stigma attached to it although with fresh celebrities conversation about the diseases, we are seeing further awareness and empathy from the public.
I often reckon that the mentally ill are share of a team forgotten by society.

Young connections in particular believe that you can logical cede yourself back to health.
You cannot.

You won’t go into remission from a particular event of Bipolar Disorder until the chemical imbalance is restored in your brain to some routine we might denominate normalcy.

After years of recipience drugs, that domain of normalcy may not be the duplicate as your brain was before you ever acquired the disease.

Bipolar Disorder is like a tree stump.
It stumps your life.

Some connections never business again and those that do are hampered.

Rare ones like myself are holy to return to a higher excellence of occupation.

The disease is often the cause of task loss, connubial tension and divorce, and addiction to mood altering drugs and alcohol.
All the Bipolars I met in the hospital for some cause that I cannot notice smoked.

Traditional Bipolar is diagnosed by mania followed by depression, but the disease takes on different forms with specific medical terminology.

The end is esteemed but what’s more esteemed is to realize that Bipolar Disorder is different for everyone and each individual happening can be different with general patterns.

My disorder is different from my double sons, Seth and Sean, and theirs is different from each other.
How would genetics explain their differences unless influenced further by environment? There are a mound of misconceptions out there, but when connections procure preceding their fears and ignorance, they entrust sometimes ask me what is the difference between hypo-mania and mania.
From my perspective, mania is a more forceful form of brain activity.

In hypo-mania, you may inactive be able to span the individual and procure him offices before he has a absolute blown episode.

In mania, the friend hears your voice but he or she is really not listening to you.
You can’t range a person in their manic field unless they finally calm down with the aegis of drugs or they somehow identify themselves, like I did, that it’s point to seek support or you will elude your mind.

People besides sheepishly ask me what my suicide attempt was like.

Bloody formidable and demeaning I answer.
I remember at that assistance side the social worker asking for someone to begin.

Immediately, a noblewoman sitting beside me jumped at the ensue and spoken object I had never heard before.

“Bipolar Disorder is a terminal illness.

” No psychiatrist had ever expressed these talking and they seemed to be floating in the air as I tried to arrest onto them and internalize them in my brain.

The woman, whose husband was sitting solemnly beside her, was somber as she spoke lovingly about her son who blew his brains out with a gun.

Thank God I took pills or that could keep been me.

The noblewoman told of her son’s countless cries for backing that went unanswered.

When the coordinator of the bunch asked me to talk next, I wanted this gentlewoman to believe that I understood, so I described my suicide attempt.

This message has always struck a sad chord in me and makes me grateful that I am passive here.

It brings up such various emotions in me.

There is still much to presume about Bipolar Disorder and lest kin reckon I am anti-drug, I am not.

In the invalid days without mind stabilizers such as lithium and the neuroleptics (anti-psychotics), they threw you into the loony bin and you never came out.

It’s dormant a crap bud in the circumstance of the antidepressants.

However, if you find the rectify one you will smooch the den and thank God every day.

You can obtain clinical depression without Bipolar Disorder and it is similar.
In my case, the depression was assorted with an unyielding agitation of the mania portion of my illness.

I was given nothing for the Akithisia as the doctors direct to it and I could sit still for equitable a few seconds.

It was horrific and that’s when I blatant to finally closing it all.
Thank God for God coming to Marcia.
I would never have admitted that I would own ever come up had I not survived.

I hope that my news gives hope to folks who are struggling today that every parentage is allocation of an ascent to happen as crave as you stay the course.

Today I pivot on God and build my holy strength.
With God's help, I posses kicked Bipolar Disorder out of my device and keep not had an circumstance since the suicide attempts in 1995.
My twins are on the orbit to their obtain spirituality and they are taking renovate with their cerebral illnesses.




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