Tracy (Jan 18, 2002): I think I am actually responding to all of your articles. Being Irish Catholic myself, I have also spent my life waiting to be "struck by lightening" for doing something wrong. In fact, I think it's because of that I have been in denial for so long about my illness-I felt I was doing something wrong- which was why I was ill! I think! I am only at the beginning of even acknowledging to myself that I am Bi-polar; but looking back at all the mistakes I have made; the people I have walked away from, and relationships I have ruined (without even realizing it); not to mention endless jobs and business ventures that I have given up on I finally see that there actually was a reason for it all..not just me being a failure or abnormal. I have also had alot of unfortunate experiences growing up as well; but, even though they were (are) "flawed"..I am still here today because of my family. But, I think it's because of all the "dysfunction" I have been on an endless quest to find some sort of normalcy out there. I didn't realize that until I faced myself..I would never find that "normalcy"! I am still in some sort of state of denial because the reality of this is so new to me..part of me is also afraid to continue moving forward, and getting the answers and facing the things that have haunted my whole life. But, the thought of living the way I have is even more frightening! So, thank you for your insight and honesty. I am working with a therapist; but I (maybe out of habit) will also be researching as much as I can on my own, so I can help myself.

Renae (Jan 28, 2003):  Such a poignant testimonial to what this illness does to our lives.  At 14 I was having auditory and visual hallucinations.  I thought they were religious experiences.  At 16 I thought it was persecution by demons, and couldn't cope with the pain and attempted suicide.  At 17, while at college I suffered my first attack of agoraphobia and my anxiety was so severe I couldn't use the phone to call for help and was found a week later after my concerned parents called the dean and asked her to check on me, malnourished, dehydrated, and weighing only 85 lbs (I'm 5' 7").  I was admitted to the hospital and diagnosed with bipolar syndrome.  Since I was only 17, the doctors told my diagnosis to my parents, who for some odd reason never bothered to share the diagnosis with me.  Needless to say, it went untreated...

I went on to have a wonderful career, working for a State political office until my marriage in 1983.  I had years of mania and depression to deal with.  I was a housewife (at my husbands insistence) and my yard was beautiful!  It was featured in our local newspaper.  I homeschooled our 3 children.  Then I drove us into bankruptcy.  The kids HAD to have books!  I HAD to have books and plants!  I HAD to remodel the house (usually while my husband was at work and couldn't stop me...).  An example would be the time he was walking home from work with his boss and there was a wall laying in our back yard.  His boss said "there is a wall laying in your backyard" and my husband said "I see that."  He came in to find I had removed a wall, and created a new, roomier living room.  And in an effort to clean up before he got home, had attempted to vaccum up the sheetrock up with a regular vacuum cleaner, and shot sheetrock dust all over the house, from floor to ceiling.  He took one look around and said "we're going to my mom's for dinner".  Then the severe depression hit.  I sat in bed for months, picking fleas off of our cats.  No housework, cleaning, or schoolwork got done, but there was not one flea on our cats.  I responded to my husband's anger about the messy house and lack of cooked meals with tears and indignation and self-riteous anger. 

Next came the anxiety attacks and the agoraphobia and the OCD.  I was housebound.  I was seeing visual hallucinations again.  My husband literally dragged me out of the house to my doctor, who couldn't get me into his exam room unless they kept the door open and opened the window.  They put me on xanax (yuck) and sent me to a psychiatrist.  He put me on Zoloft and Clonazepam.  Hurray!  The panic attacks got better, and the OCD subsided.  I got manic again!  I wanted OUT of that House!  My husband was convinced I was having an affair, and I was NOT!  I just wanted to go, go, GO!!!  I enrolled the kids in public school, and went to all my friends houses and visited all day long.  He came home to an empty house with no dinner all the time.  I saw his displeasure of my activities as persecution and rebelled even more.  How dare he spoil my fun when I finally felt better? He knew how long I'd been housebound!  Then I started the paranoia and drove all my friends away.  I just knew they didn't like me anymore.  That they liked their other friends more than me.  I lost every friend I had.  The mania gave way to depression with suicidal thoughts, but I hated the very idea of suicide, I loved my kids and my husband.  I was tormented.  So I started getting into my husband's beer (I was never one to drink) to try to calm myself down.  Bad idea. I started acting reckless.  Next thing I knew, life was one big party.  Not suitable for a mother of three.  I left my husband of 17 years so that I could be free of his constant picking at me when I wasn't doing "anything wrong", and we got divorced.  To my dismay, I found out that I couldn't work.  I had such bad panic attacks when I tried to.  I went from job to job.  Then I started partying at my house with young people.  The compliments from 21 year olds are very flattering when you are on the rebound and are 38 years old.  The results from all that partying?  I would get violent and suicidal when I drank.  I lost all my "party buddies", and I am now raising a two year old daug
hter alone that was fathered by one of my boyfriends I had when I was in my manic party/drinking swing.  I had a bedrest pregnancy, major surgery afterwards.  And lost all those "friends".  The baby's dad doesn't want her, but my children are great, and love their mom and their little sissy so much.  I quit drinking because of the pregnancy, but cried constantly, and still had suicidal tendencies, which frightened me.  Then one day, I had the old "I have to get out and do something fun" so I went to a bar (I'd never been in a bar) and decided to party.  Guess who was manic again?  And I drank myself blind, and picked up a man I'd never met before and went home with him.  Thank goodness he wasn't an axe murderer.  I'm still with him.  I am one of the lucky ones that didn't get aids or worse yet, killed by such risky behavior.  But the drinking continued because I didn't want him to see my weird moods.  I have been in a constant state of panic forever it seems, so I would calm down with beer.  My mom convinced me to apply for social security disability since I can't work because of the panic, and my doctor sent me to a psychiatrist to see if there were better meds for my panic disorder since it'd been awhile since I'd seen someone.  Well, goodness.  I was diagnosed with Bipolar, and my mom said "Oh, didn't you know, you were diagnosed with that when you were 17?".  I was absolutely flabbergasted!  She never told me!  I have just recently started trying to find the right meds for me.  So far the only thing I have been able to take without severe side effects is Topamax.  I am a mess.  I quit drinking and have been reading up on bipolar, and see now that my whole adult life has been one big bipolar mess.  I don't know how I have survived so long living with untreated bipolar disorder.  It all fits now.  But the grief of all I have lost because of this illness is insurmountable.

My partner I have now has been with me for over a year, and he is just now reading up on the bipolar situation and is very supportive.  He truly cares for me and considers himself "daddy" to my little girl.  He is a wonderful man.  I have just begun my journey to wellness, at the age of 41, and was recently given a determination of disability, although I have to go back and fight the date they determined I first became disabled, but that is another matter.  For now, I am working on self help measures to get through everyday tasks, and getting well and staying well.  Fighting suicidal impulses.  etc. etc. etc, oh, and handling my irritation and paranoia.  How's that for a crash and burn story?  Middle aged housewife and mother of 3 divorces husband of 17 years, turns into party animal and has baby at the age of 38 with a 21 year old man, becomes a single parent, has a manic episode and on a drinking/partying binge picks up a man in a bar that turns into a long-term supportive relationship.

Don't try this at home....

Denise (Feb 27, 2003):  I never realized what the 'crash and burn' was. I've only been diagnosed for two years, I take Wellbutrin while the Seroquel sits in my medicine cabinet and never gets taken. I 'crash and burn' all the time, and didn't realize this was part of my illness. I have never been to therapy, only to my doctor for medication checkups. Thank you for the knowledge, next time I won't feel like such a loser when I do 'hit bottom' so suddenly.

By the way- I'm a 29 y/o female who just last year discovered motorcross. I bought my first motorcycle for trail riding and that risky daredevil 'wind in my face' feeling gets me off bigtime. I didn't realize that these feelings could be part of the illness, too. I have a lot to learn. Thank you for your educating article.

McMan (Feb 27):  Don't underestimate the therapeutic power of full throttle on two wheels, Denise. Rev life to the fullest, but do remember to come back to earth every once in awhile.

Jim (June 9, 2003):  I don't know if I am bipolar but I am crashing at the present time. On the outside I appear normal but inside I am in pain. Just getting out of bed to face life is unbearable. Depression has ruined my business and driven me to near helplessness. All the different doctors and therapists keep saying the meds will bring me back to relative good health. I know now that other people have the same feelings of helplessness, pain and feelings of letting my family down. I can only hope that the doctor and therapists are right. I don't know how much longer i can live like this  You can reach me at 815-263-0064.

Angela (Feb 2, 2004):  I would like to personally thank you for this website. I have found it to be the most helpful, truthful one I have found. Here is a little of my story. I am a 38 year old housewife married for 19 years with 4 children. sounds like the perfect situation? I have always felt different from other people all my life. As a teenager I was rebellious and sexually promiscuous. Thinking back now I realize I had some pretty serious manic episodes. To complicate matters my father tried to molest me at the age of 17. When I told my mother she cursed me and told me to leave the house because I was a liar and a slut. I moved in with my friends family. Long story short I married my friend's older brother at 18 and had my first child by age 19.My life has mostly consisted of depressions, deeper depressions and so on. I have always felt inferior to everyone and very suspicious. My husband and I joined a church where I worked at the private church school. I stayed pretty stable but always empty and a little sad. Most people I think would say I was pretty quiet and polite. I gained a lot of weight , I was nearly 200 pounds, Then about 2 years ago we quit going to church and I decided to lose weight and grow my hair long, because I did not want to be fat with short hair at forty. I lost 80 pounds and had longer hair again. My husband who is an extroverted musician started playing music in bars with his band. I followed along and discovered I liked alcohol, partying, and pot. Everything seemed to be coasting along until I realized I had an obsession with my brother-in-law. It took almost a year of secretly flirting with him until he kissed me for the first time, all the while I am pretending to be the perfect wife, mother and partier. Long story short after a couple of secret meetings he decided he could not do this. New Years Eve I totally went manic beating my husband and running down the street in stocking feet. My husband almost called the police etc.

John (March 22, 2004):  thanks for your experiences like myself.  i was in the army for 8 yrs and then the prison service for 13yrs .In 1999 i was diagnosed then medically pensioned out .I battle this illness every day.

Pat 6/18/05:  Yikes. Well, I never equated the stock car racing at age 27, and the airplane flying (some of it upside down) at age 28 with bipolar, but I guess it makes sense. I read somewhere it takes an avg of 13 years for someone with bipolar to receive an accurate diagnosis. I've had it since college but never approached treatment until I was 29 or so. Then I crashed and burned (and of course almost died for the first time) at age 34 when i was pregnant with my son. Thru the grace of God no less (a heaven-sent VNA and a psychologist who would take Medicaid and see me weekly) I managed to survive the pregnancy. (I've joked more than once that even as severely depressed as I was I could appreciate the humor of wanting to commit suicide when I was pregnant but yet being an active vocal anti-abortionist Catholic at the same time). Maybe my appreciation for the irony saved me as well. I've got a great psychiatrist who is brilliant with medication yet somewhat unorthodox.