Wired

I was always an energetic kid, but everyone just thought that was normal. During my teen years I would sometimes go into depressive fits, although I did not know that was what they were at the time, where I would just go off by myself and cry for no reason. Other times I would do totally off the wall things such as driving at very high speeds down winding country roads. Every nerve in my body seemed to have such a fantastic connection to the road that I felt totally invincible.

In my 20s I got married and decided to go to college. I worked a full time job, two part time jobs, and went to school full time. The harder I worked the more energy I seemed to come up with. My mother tried to tell me to slow down because something in her mind told her that I was not well. She had been adopted but she still remembered some of her family, including her father having some of the same symptoms, and she was on nerve medication. I was totally wound up all the time, though, and did not want to even consider the idea that something might be wrong. After I got my associates degree (with honors), I was not happy so two weeks later I packed up and moved my wife to another state to get my bachelors degree. Again I was working a full time job while going to school full time. I also crammed two years of school into one, but I did not quite make the honors list this time (major bummer).

I worked several different jobs, but couldn't settle down. I got bored too easily, so I went into contract engineering. This allowed me to go to work for a company for a few months to a year, or whenever they would run out of work, then move on to the next job. Usually I would be driving up to nearly two hours, working 12 hr shifts, and returning home, six days a week. Sundays I would only work eight hours. Finally I landed a job close by, but I soon started working 14 and 16 hour days. It was not unusual for me to forget to go home at night due to working all night on projects. My wife kept accusing me of having an affair and could not believe that I was working all those hours. One hundred hour work weeks was not unheard of. I had a constant unstoppable drive. When I did come home at night, I would knock off a half a bottle or more of vodka, then go rollerblading while having the dog pull me thru the village streets.

My wife was getting absolutely fed up with me (she deserved to) because I was wrecking our reputation in the town. Finally she kicked me out and told me to get help. I waited two months before going to a psychiatrist. She agreed to meet me there, but would not ride with me. She was terrified of me by this time. When the doctor diagnosed me as a manic depressive, all my wife could think of was the old stereotypes and it scared her even more. Shortly after, she divorced me and had another man move in with her. Later she remarried.

After six months of treatment, I was still losing ground. I lost my job. I could no longer function at any level. I was rapid cycling, sometimes three times a day. I could no longer hide in the bathroom for a few minutes, get my crying out of the way, and run back into a meeting with a client. I decided to go on disability at that time. That was two and a half years ago. Three months ago after trying numerous combinations of different medications, my doctor put me on Geodon and things are finally coming together. My shakes are calming down, my racing thoughts are clearer, and I can sleep at night. I still have the depressive periods from time to time but they are getting better also. My doctor says to give it another six months to a year and we will see what happens, but I think I will be returning to work sometime soon.

The most important point of this story is this: Even with all I lost and had to go thru, I did finally find God and put him into my life. I have a long way to go before I can even begin to think about bragging rights as to my knowledge, but I am learning slowly and growing in Jesus. I don't know why God allowed such an awful disorder to strike me, but I trust there is a good reason, so I don't worry about questioning it.

Well ... I have been long winded but I hope maybe this will help out someone. If anyone has any questions about what I went through, just drop me a line at russell1@hotmail.com and I will try to answer them for you. Thank you for taking the time to read my testimony.

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Anonymous (April 4, 2004): Whoa! Whole lotta happen'! You were out there! It's good to tell these stories in an environment where people understand what you say, do, mean and feel and in a place with people who can appreciate the humorous side of the story. I'm not sure too many people who haven't seen the other side of madness could fully let go of their fears and enjoy the rollicking ride of your story. Sorry you had to wake up and smell the coffee though. That's always the tough part, unfortunately. But I'm proud of you that you stayed where you were and faced the music. That is the best way to defend against greater stress later - you are not running, you are dealing. Excellent!

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Russell Hilgefort

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