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Bipolar Disorder: A Personal Story of Triumph Over Suicide and Mental Illness
It is my notion that as your Official Guide on Enlightenment, I should ration some of my personal background and experiences so that you can obtain to notice me and notice where I stand.
I've had a life flawless of suffering but if you are to truly recognize blessings, you deprivation to go through suffering and triumph over it.
I personally don't think you can overcome legitimate crises without acquiring spirituality.
If anyone wishes to impact me, please email me at or entitle 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 drastic for aegis when I best contracted Bipolar Disease, but assistance was not forthcoming. Oh yes, there were the electroshock treatments that in 1991 made me a blithering idiot or in 1995 temporarily lifted my anxious clinical depression for one full week before submerging me again in drudgery.
During this week of freedom, I was so gleeful that my misery had lifted that I stupidly gave up my enthusiasm expression disability and reciprocal to my professorial duties at Stony Brook University on Long Island, New York. When the depression returned, all of a sudden I was former from the university for a duration that lasted five years.
I had to reapply and procure re-approved for my wanting period disability.
The paperwork should retain taken me at most a brace of hours.
Instead like my original application, it took me three weeks.
That’s how heavy it was for me to do anything. It would be three years closing before the humiliation of this disease allowed me to once supplementary face my university colleagues through attending my friend 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 macrocosm I detested.
Oftentimes, I would scheme my dodge 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 intelligent Professor scientist who now accepted his heap that this is the way his absent life would be from here on in.
In March of 1995, I politic my suicide.
I had said 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 sake one but I wasn’t listening. I had been a lozenge taker all my life, so I believed I finally had found a style out of a globe that was telling me that there was no procedure 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 reprocess hers.
I took drugs for the voices I heard in my head and for the psychosis that accompanied my mania. The bunch effects of the drugs were involuntary twitching of the lips, brain fog, and tremors to the fleck that I could not symbol my name.
The antidepressant drugs that I tried never worked and only months of the path of case brought me out of my episodes of dire clinical depression.
My only respite was the two hours of accommodate that I got from sheer tiredness each night.
I’ve never figured out why accommodate was able to provide that relief but in retrospect, the doctors should obtain heavily sedated me with the most dreadful sleeping pills.
After all, isn’t that what they do, operate drugs? The three different psychiatrists that I had during this time period 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 notion 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 taking pills and the two hundred pills disappeared into my abdomen in unbiased fifteen or twenty minutes.
I went to lie down and finally after months of finding it impossible to find a nook for myself, I felt at peace.
It was too delayed to inverse the process and I was waiting to see that irradiate that people who obtain survived near death experiences talk about.
Oops, I realized that I hadn’t written a suicide message 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 unbiased ordered lunch when Marcia spoken to Erin, “We own 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 appearance changed my humour 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 short stretcher in an harmonization conditioned room with pronounced overhead fluorescent lights.
I was gelid and had to pee.
An unkind nurse provided a metal urinal and I missed and urine was all over the sheet awning the stretcher. The nurture 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 have 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 supplementary time had elapsed, of which I own 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 principally out sleeping for the sequential 48 to 72 hours.
The caring nurture on duteousness had told Marcia that they didn’t comprehend whether I was going to make it.
I had fallen down a bottomless crater and finally hit bottom. I was embarrassed and ashamed but didn’t recognize how I would preserve to frontage this agitated clinical depression.
Days later, I made a latter chewed try at suicide with sixteen pills, inert considered an overdose, and had my paunch 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 latter of the string and the closing of my freedom. This is where I would remain for the latter of my days.
I had hallucinated and observed my hairdressers with orange and purple hair and heuristic badness in paintings and people.
I had delusions of grandeur cognitive I was the Messiah. In my 1991 episode, I played chess with Saddam Hussein as we strategized during the top Gulf War. Ironically, I didn’t move chess.
I even called the White House to prattle to Barbara Bush to donate her my advice for ending the war. I had experienced psychosis at the alp of my mania and I had crashed to harsh hopelessness to the ultimate bottom, suicide.
Several months end when I had miraculously recovered without the backing of drugs from my suicide attempt and anxious depression, I found myself at a thinking malady backing group. The meeting was attended by parents of offspring who had the malady and I qualified because in August of 1994 and June of 1995, my banal sons, Sean and Seth had their best bouts respectively of Bipolar Disorder. I always felt that I was destined to hold the ailment at age 50 so I could presume what they were and are torpid going through. I was the best to posses Bipolar Disorder in the family.
My father suffered from misery but never experienced mania. My psychiatrist felt that the mania probably came from my mother who he suggested was hypo-manic. Identical twofold studies keep shown that Bipolar Disorder, or Manic Depression as the indisposition used to be called, is genetic in about half the cases.
That procedure that half the case only one identical banal 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 other belief illness that can accompany the identical mania and psychosis as practical in Bipolar Disorder. Bipolar as its expression implies is different than the “schizo” disorders in that it is a temperament infection with swings from the lanky of mania to the low of depression.
All types of cerebral disease are chemical imbalances in the brain and are not the blunder of the unfortunate and often surprised recipient who is diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder.
No one knows the escort of Bipolar Disorder and after doing regressive therapy back to my mothers womb, I am not at all convinced that a genetic answer in families such as mine is the surpass for transmission to spawn like my sons.
There is so much bio-electric activity occurring in the womb, especially in the birth canal brother to birth, that may ameliorate the neurotransmitters’ and hormones’ amounts and actions to thicken the stage modern for the onslaught of the disease.
Often the infection is not diagnosed for years because it seems that inability to do homework or fulcrum in school can be explained by other problems such as weight deficit sickness or weight deficit hyperactive disorder. The textbooks prate about Bipolar Disorder being diagnosed in heirs as early as age 8 but my wife Marcia was a special erudition instructor and she pronounced the mind swings of the mania and hopelessness of Bipolar Disorder or Manic Depression in some of her 4 year olds.
Most tribe are diagnosed in their teens or twenties like my sons.
There is a smaller troupe who come down with the illness at about age 40. Rarely does one see anyone like myself at age 50. A heirs doctor, a pediatrician, in his slow forties once stopped by my office at the university logical to meet me and know that there was someone else like him who had the infection at such an older age in life.
He too was the elite in his young and had to give up his medical practice.
I hope that I gave him hope.
I was out of the university for five years on a crave word disability and had moderate mutual to Stony Brook to once again manage up my professorial duties when this fine young partner stopped by.
It’s a disrepute that reasoning ailment quiescent has the stigma attached to it although with additional celebrities utterance about the diseases, we are seeing fresh awareness and rapport from the public. I often imagine that the mentally ill are share of a crew forgotten by society.
Young kin in particular surmise that you can just will yourself back to health. You cannot.
You won’t go into remission from a particular episode of Bipolar Disorder until the chemical imbalance is restored in your brain to some manner we might name normalcy.
After years of taking drugs, that field of normalcy may not be the alike as your brain was before you ever acquired the disease.
Bipolar Disorder is like a tree stump. It stumps your life.
Some folks never assignment again and those that do are hampered.
Rare ones like myself are religious to return to a higher grade of occupation.
The infection is often the bob of undertaking loss, marital tension and divorce, and addiction to character adjustment drugs and alcohol. All the Bipolars I met in the hospital for some ground that I cannot know smoked.
Traditional Bipolar is diagnosed by mania followed by depression, but the ailment takes on different forms with specific medical terminology.
The end is esteemed but what’s additional famous is to identify that Bipolar Disorder is different for everyone and each comrade happening can be different with typical patterns.
My ailment is different from my paired sons, Seth and Sean, and theirs is different from each other. How would genetics explain their differences unless influenced furthermore by environment?
There are a stockpile of misconceptions out there, but when family procure bygone their fears and ignorance, they leave sometimes ask me what is the difference between hypo-mania and mania. From my perspective, mania is a supplementary radical burrow of brain activity.
In hypo-mania, you may passive be able to reach the fellow and get him aid before he has a perfect blown episode.
In mania, the fellow hears your voice but he or she is really not listening to you. You can’t span a man in their manic sector unless they finally peace down with the backing of drugs or they somehow know themselves, like I did, that it’s circumstance to seek offices or you leave escape your mind.
People further sheepishly ask me what my suicide attempt was like.
Bloody fearsome and demeaning I answer. I remember at that aegis crew the social drudge asking for someone to begin.
Immediately, a duchess sitting beside me jumped at the transpire and oral object I had never heard before.
“Bipolar Disorder is a terminal illness.
” No psychiatrist had ever expressed these speech and they seemed to be floating in the air as I tried to catch 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 countess told of her son’s countless cries for help that went unanswered.
When the coordinator of the company asked me to chat next, I wanted this female to presume that I understood, so I described my suicide attempt.
This report has always struck a sad chord in me and makes me grateful that I am torpid here.
It brings up such various love in me.
There is idle much to surmise about Bipolar Disorder and lest people reckon I am anti-drug, I am not.
In the lapsed 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 inert a crap germinate in the time of the antidepressants.
However, if you find the remedy one you consign snog the covert and thank God every day.
You can keep clinical melancholy without Bipolar Disorder and it is similar. In my case, the melancholy was various with an unyielding agitation of the mania share of my illness.
I was given zero for the Akithisia as the doctors cite to it and I could sit inactive for impartial a few seconds.
It was horrific and that’s when I clear to finally latter it all. Thank God for God coming to Marcia. I would never posses admitted that I would obtain ever come up had I not survived.
I hope that my facts gives hope to relatives who are struggling today that every descent is allowance of an ascent to ensue as inclination as you stay the course.
Today I spindle on God and build my blessed strength. With God's help, I have kicked Bipolar Disorder out of my entity and hold not had an adventure since the suicide attempts in 1995. My twins are on the course to their retain spirituality and they are receiving change with their analytical illnesses.