What better place to share my personal story than here? Please bear with me, it's a little long. If you read it at all, that is.
I grew up in New England. I'm currently 19 (almost 20) and a junior in a school I just transferred to in Texas. While it's not my first time away from home, it is a very stressful thing to move to a brand new place.
When I was six years old, I was sexually abused by my neighbor's teenage son. She was out for the afternoon and I made the mistake of going over to say hello. I've blocked most of it out since then.
After that, I struggled with depression, nightmares, and insomnia. At the age of six, I was put on Wellbutrin and Trazedone. I can remember being totally ashamed of myself and feeling worthless and unlike all of the other kids.
When I started high school, I got really depressed again. My mom and her husband divorced and we moved multiple times. I started cutting because I didn't know how to express my feelings, and I was ashamed of myself. Junior year, I started dating my current boyfriend. We've been together four years with the exception of two months this winter.
When I started college, in Boston 2008, I fell depressed again. My doctor put me on Wellbutrin. She just kept upping it when I told her it wasn't working. Frustrated, I just took myself off the medication.
In January of this year, my boyfriend and I had a nasty split, which brought on my first manic episode. First, I sped up. I started staying up all night. I thought I was the best at everything, and I spoke so fast people couldn't understand me. I thought I was going to graduate from school with a 4.0 and life would be great and I would show my ex a thing or two. Then I started doing risky things like driving too fast. That got me a warning and a large ticket, and possibly points on my license. I started meeting men from craigslist. I went from one drink a month, to several drinks a night. I started smoking pot. I started bringing guys back to my apartment and being very promiscuous. I started spending obscene amounts of money on my hobbies. And I thought everything was just fine. People were commenting on how outrageous I was getting though.
My turning point was one night at a party that my room mate was throwing at his friend's house. I trusted that I could accept a drink from my room mate, but apparently he was acting for his friend. All I remember is a broken condom and needing to get emergency contraceptive. Before that, everything is fuzzy. You tell me what happened after one drink.
Eventually, I crashed hard. I was ashamed and humiliated and depressed. I hated myself for what I had done and who I had become. I stopped going to class and doing homework. I called my mother and told her I was going to kill myself. She brought me to the emergency room and they put me on Lexapro and sent me on my way. It didn't work.
I went out and bought a sick pure bred puppy with my life savings, knowing full well I was going to live in the dorms this year. I dropped out of spring semester.
In March, I got back together with my boyfriend. Upon admitting what I had done, he lost his temper and told me to get out of his life. He told me I was worthless, and I tried to kill myself. My mom and aunt checked me into the hospital for a week. They added Remeron to my Lexapro. I said all the right things and they sent me on my not so merry way. I got back together with my boyfriend after some lengthy apologies.
Just under a month later, my aunt saved me from my second suicide attempt. I checked into an emergency holding unit which was the scariest place I've been in my life. There was no control over the patients. My things were stolen, and they wouldn't let me have soap or clothes. I spent Easter there. My mom finally got me out and got me into a psych unit.
There, they changed my meds. They put me on a hefty dose of effexor and ambien. It didn't work. I wound up leaving before they wanted me to because I saw some people snorting drugs they had had smuggled in to them.
When I left there, my doctor switched me from ambien to melatonin to seroquel. I spent the summer on seroquel and effexor, and they weren't working. Eventually, my doctor diagnosed me with bipolar and put me on a combination of seroquel, ambien, and lorazepam. It was perfect until my insurance ran out.
Now, I'm in a new school with awful insurance. I'm starting risperdal and trazedone as well as lorazepam tonight. I've been bounced from lamictal to geodon to everything else. Nothing's working and things are rapidly reaching the boiling point, so I'm here, reaching out for help because I can't take it anymore.
i was a little worried that you would not like my post to you.i come here a lot at night latley when i can't sleep if i can't find nobody online i write in my diary on here.
