“What a creature of strange mood is - always at the top of the wheel of confidence or at the bottom of an intense depression”. - LORD BEAVERBROOK (1879-1964)

Have you ever felt your mind, heart, and soul were racing so fast on the inside that you thought your physical body could not keep up and therefore they would race right out of your body?

Have you ever felt so naturally high (WITHOUT DRUGS) as if you were 40 stories in the air like on them roller coaster rides when you fly to the top of that 40 story hill and your spirit feels like your whole body is floating in the air?

Have you felt your mind, heart, and soul diminish as quickly as that roller coaster falls down that 40 story hill?

Having Bipolar is a lot like a roller coaster ride. One minute you are on top of the world and everything is great. You have so much love that you want to share it with everyone. So you go on shopping sprees and max out your credit cards, you write hot checks telling yourself things like well it is Wednesday and I get paid on Friday, and these checks won’t clear the bank before then. Or if your credit cards are maxed and your husband took the checkbook away because of all the hot checks or the bank closed out your account because of all of the overdrafts then you start shop lifting. But the things you buy or shop lift are not for you, they are for your family and friends.

Also when a Bipolar person is on these extreme highs they also like to party and be very promiscuous with anyone and everyone. Does not matter if they are married or in a relationship, they are risk takers and it is so much fun to see if you get caught or not at any of the above things they do. They lie, cheat and still to get what they want. Bipolar people are experts at manipulation. It is a BIG TIME THRILL!!

Then their high comes crashing down diminishing their thrill. They fall of their high as quickly as a roller coaster speeds down that hill and when they crash it is no fun for them nor their loved ones and friends. They get so low that they cannot get out of bed, they do not eat, and they do nothing but cry and sleep a lot. They cry over all the things they did while they were on their high and they worry about how to pay for them things, or if they will get caught. They sleep to forget everything, to forget what they did, to forget their memories, their pain. They sleep to dream a better life then they have; a life where they are as normal as most people are.

I am a 36 year old female (will be 36 in December), and I have lived with Bipolar all of me life, because the person that has Bipolar is me. It took me until I was 26 years old to wake up and see what everyone was saying was true. I woke up when I realized how my sickness was affecting my son.

You see when he was born; he was 2 months premature and almost died. When I finally got to bring him home I was on a “low” with my Bipolar and I was in bed. My husband left for work and I slept until my son woke up. I feed him, burped him, changed his diaper, and then rocked him back to sleep. It took everything I had to get out of bed and do these things, but once I got him back to sleep, I went back to bed myself. It was only for about 15 minutes and he woke up and starting crying. I thought it might be gas so I can him some baby gas-x, but that did not work. I tried burping him, rocking him, playing with him, I tried everything but he would not stop crying. So I put him back in his bed and was just going to let him cry it out, but after 30 minutes I could not take it any more. I jumped up out of my bed full of rage, and I grabbed him up and then I stopped. I realized what I was about to do, I was about to hurt a 3 month old baby. I immediately got his diaper bag and bottles, and went across the road with him crying and me crying as I walked into my mom’s house and told her to take him; I could not take it anymore.

I went back home got back into bed and cried. I was going to hurt my child; I was so scared because I realized that I could have killed him. So I vowed then and there to never raise my hand to my children because I was too scared that I might abuse them, but I did the next worse thing, and that was holler at them all the time when they did things wrong or because I was on a “low” and they could never do anything right in my mind.

So in 1999 my son was 8 years old and I was on another “low”. It was summer so he was not in school. At lunch time I fixed him a sandwich and milk to drink. He knocked his milk over accidentally but I did not see it that way at the time. As I turned my back to him to get some paper towels I was screaming at him for spilling the milk. As I turned back around and say him my heart immediately broke into a million pieces. My son was crouching down by the spilled milk saying he was sorry over and over again and his little body was shaking with fear.

I fell to my knees crying and just grabbed him and hugged him as tight as I could and I told him no, mommy was the one that was sorry and that he did nothing wrong. I asked for his forgiveness, I held him tightly for a good 15 minutes kissing him all over telling him I loved him and I was so sorry for being so mean. I then got up and asked him to go pack his suitcase because we were going to granny’s house. I too packed some things and then I called my husband at work and told him I loved him and he asked if everything was ok and I replied to him telling him that yeah for the first time in my life everything was OK.

I took my son to my mom’s and said my goodbye’s and I love you’s, and then I drove off heading to a liquor store. I bought a bottle of Vodka. I then went and checked into a local hotel under a different name. I had packed all the bottle of pills we had in our home, and we had like four bottles that were prescribed narcotics. I sat on the bed drinking the Vodka and counting the pills, there were 312 pills. I then took all 312 pills and I downed it with the rest of the bottle of Vodka.

The room started spinning and it was getting hard for me to hold my eyes open and my breathing was slowing down. I laid back in the bed and when I did my purse fell off the bed. I do not know to this day why I thought I had to roll over and pick my purse up; I mean I was trying to end my life. However I did roll over to pick up my purse and all the things that had fallen out of it, and that is when I saw it. The picture was of the two most important men in my life. My son and husband smiling back at me holding a sign that said “We love you Mom.”

I knew then I had to get help so I called 911. I was unable to speak clearly, but I tried. The 911 operator was asking me where I was and I could not make her understand my words. She finally traced the call and dispatched out the police and ambulance to me. They found my room and I remember them knocking but I could not get up to unlock the door. They busted the door down and a flood of police officers and ambulance men enter my room, and that is the last thing I remembered until I woke up in the ICU ward of the hospital. I was told I almost died. They were only able to get a fraction of the pills out of me; the others had already dissolved into my system. So they monitored me closely for the next 6 days.

When I was released from the hospital 6 days later I checked myself in the State Hospital which is a mental/psychiatric hospital. A normal stay at a facility such as this is 10 days max. But when I entered into that hospital I told them I was not leaving until the fixed me. Every time they talked about releasing me I would tell them that if I go home I am going to try to kill myself again. If you threaten suicide then they cannot release you.

I had every test in the world preformed on me. I had written test, visual test, an EEG, an MRI, and a Functional MRI. They finally diagnosed me as Bipolar with Manic episodes. They then began a regimen of pills and counseling. It took 28 different combinations of meds before they hit the Jackpot with me. I was then sent home with a counseling appointment in my home town.

It has now been almost 10 years and I have not missed one dose of my medication, or one counseling appointment. I became the mom my son needed me to be, and the wife my husband needed and wanted. My husband told me he knew that side of me because there were moments it came out in me, but it would not last for long. I asked him why he did not divorce me or leave me, and he said I was sick and you do leave a sick person, and that he believed in his vows, and that he would be with me until death do us part.

So for anyone with Bipolar that has not found the right meds please I beg you to not be like me and give up thinking there is no hope, because I’ve been there. All those years before the State Hospital; I was in and out of counseling and on and off of meds because they did not work. I thought it was hopeless. But I am here to tell you it is not hopeless and there is a wonderful life on the other side of that rainbow.

I have to live with all the things I’ve done. I have been working on forgiving myself for almost 10 years, but I have not achieved it yet. I have asked for forgiveness from the ones that was in my destructive path and that I hurt, and they all forgave me, but I just cannot seem to forgive myself.

I have even asked for God’s forgiveness and I have turned my life to God. It is in his hands now. My counselor says that the reason I am unable to forgive myself is because I do not think I am worthy of it or anyone else’s forgiveness. So we are now working on my self esteem.

Sorry this post is so long but I wanted to try and educate people more about how Bipolar is from a person that has it severely. Reading about Bipolar in books and pamphlets will help some, but there is nothing like the truth from someone that experiences it everyday.

I am not cured and I never will be, and I still have small highs and lows that I have to fight to control. I refuse to be that person I was before I have even gone into other mental hospital’s twice to have my meds re-adjusted because I will NOT be her again.

For anyone suffering from Depression, Bipolar, and/or having suicide thoughts please seek help. The National Suicide Hotline for the US is 1-800-SUICIDE (1-800-784-2433). For other countries please call for help at your nearest Hospital or your Suicide Hotline. Depression and Bi-Polar are real and you can NEVER get over them.