My journey with my mental illness ***trigger warning***

I have been on some type of psychotropic medication for years, it was Lexapro and at first it worked very well for my depression, until I thought adding some drinking with it would make it work better.

When my doctor increased my dose from 10mg to 20mg, a cloud lifted and I felt like I was floating in the clouds, it was the most exhilarating feeling I’ve ever felt. Alas, after that drug lost it effectiveness I tried drug after drug after drug with my general practitioner. While seeing him I unexpectedly experienced my first panic attack which was very scary. I’ve been on Klonopin to this day and probably will forever. I continued to see my general practitioner for several years. One of my last visits with him he finally told me I’ve done all I can do to assist you with your mental health problems. The next time I see you we’re going to do one of two things, get you a psychiatrist, or put you in a psychiatric hospital. One evening I should state that I was in a very fragile state, I was with a girl on a second date. After we went out to eat we went back to her place and one thing led to another and we both consented in having sex. I know I had been under great strain and stress for a long time, and when the moment came, I simply couldn’t perform. She made one comment like “great.” That one word sent me spiraling out of control, severe depression, suicidal thoughts, it was awful. I said to myself I’ll just drive home, in the rain, about an hour away, take a shower, get some sleep, and tomorrow will be different. It wasn’t to be, I woke up worse than the night before. I called into work sick. I sat around alone inside my house, by the way I’ve lived alone, and thought of ways to end my life, end all the suffering because I just couldn’t stand the pain any longer. My suicidal ideations were very severe. It was a pure living hell. I knew when I called my family doctor what was going to happen. I knew beforehand I would be going to a psychiatric hospital. Sure enough my mom drove me there that afternoon and cried herself all the way back home as I learned later. I felt so terribly bad for her, so bad.

But I needed this hospitalization. As it turned out, my depression wasn’t the root of my problem, it was my obsessive compulsive disorder that was the main issue. The first psychiatrist I saw confirmed this and placed me on Luvox and kept me on Klonopin. The hospital stay didn’t totally fix me, but the five night stay there got me on the right track. The hospital also assigned me to a psychiatric office. It’s the same one I still go to to this day. After the hospital, I went back to work the next day, way too early. Initially I think I was doing pretty well, but a few months later my suicidal thoughts returned with a vengeance. At the drop of a hat I would be thinking of ways to end my life. I didn’t understand it. What was wrong with me? Upon seeing my physician again I told him what I was experiencing and we discussed different medications that would stabilize my mood. We both chose the drug Lamictal and although it had some side effects at first, it didn’t take long for my depression to lift and to this day I’ve no longer had one suicidal thought.

My mental illness has definitely impacted my life. When my physician couldn’t give me a diagnosis, I went to see a psychologist who did diagnosis me. It was a short process but I was diagnosed with clinical depression severe with suicidal ideations, severe, obsessive compulsive disorder, severe, panic disorder, severe, generalized anxiety disorder, severe, attention deficit disorder, moderate. After seeing my current physician for many sessions, he also recognized that I also have a mild case of bi polar two disorder. It might sound like a lot, but currently I just take five psychotropic medications, Lamictal, adderall, latuda, Klonopin, and Luvox. I still experience a good bit of anxiety and impulsive thoughts, and that keeps me from working like I would like to. I can’t recall the last time I worked a full week, that’s unfortunate in my opinion. I don’t know if I should be on disability or not. My obsessive compulsive disorder still shows its face but nowhere near how it use to be, nowhere close as a matter of fact.

Back when I was in high school I felt marriage would come very easy for me, but entering college I experienced my first suicidal thought but it in no way interfered with my daily functioning. Or so I think. I know for a fact my mental health has not allowed me to be married. Every time I would find myself in a serious relationship when it got too serious I would find some way to sabotage it because I just couldn’t follow through with it like most people can. I’m the oldest and all of my siblings are married with kids.

Today I just try to cope with my parents dogs because I cannot afford dogs like I use to be able to. Dogs are such good therapy. But also a pretty big responsibility and it costs as y’all well know. I enjoy college sports, especially football, I enjoy trips to the nearby mountains in the fall, being with my best friends who happen to be my parents. My mom partly understands my mental illness, I don’t know about my dad but my mom tells me he hates that I’m having to deal with this. My dad doesn’t say much, a man of few words. To those of you who have also posted your own stories on here I wish you the best and thank you for reading my story. This was good therapy for myself because honestly I just don’t talk to my siblings a lot about this. It’s almost like it’s something that’s supposed to be hush hush. You might think your loved one’s would want to ask you questions about what I might have experienced or how are you feeling today? Not much of that at all. I know in my heart that they don’t know the private hell that I went through to get to this point where at least I’m able to function some. None of my parents nor my siblings have any kind of mental health disorders, it’s like my family tree gave me all of this stuff to deal with. You would think some of it would have been spread around some, but I decided to not take my own life, pick myself up, and get the help I so badly needed, and that I’m very proud of. Again thank you to those who have read my story. May God Bless. Rusty.