After my daughter was born in 2010, I began experiencing extreme anxiety, and debilitating panic attacks. I saw a doctor who misdiagnosed me with postpartum depression. I began taking SSRIs, and weaned off after a few months.

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My experience with Mental Illness started and bit over two an a half years after I gave birth to my beautiful little girl. I was diagnosed with postpartum depression after I had my little girl.  Had DCYF involvement with my little girl in Central part of the state of Hew Hampshire. Because they left that her biological father and I couldn’t take care of her basic needs. whShe’s been in foster care this whole time. Her biological father doesn’t realize how lucky we’ve been that she’s been the same foster family this whole time which is very rare.  I was ordered  by the Claremont New Hampshire family court to go through counseling. Which I have now been doing for almost two years now.

This is when the Diagnosis changed from Postpartum Depression to Adjustment Disorder with Anxiety and Mixed Depressed Moods.  This diagnosis was given because I was dealing with with DCYF, with my daughter father who wasn’t understanding the full gravity of the situation that we were in with our little girl.  I worked with DCYF for a total of eighteen wonderful months. 

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Three days after my 20th birthday I was a victim of aggravated assault by my then current partner. It resulted in not only a broken nose, but a severe closed head injury, massive distrust in my peers, low self-esteem, body hate, and a depressive state of paranoia, which was later diagnosed as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. In retrospect, I realize I gave my anxiety way too much permission to make major decisions, sometimes rather hastily. In fact, my personal barriers strongly blockaded negative, potentially uncomfortable feelings to the extent it took four years before I was able to pursue any male relationships.

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**Trigger Warning**

Hi. I used to be really mentally ill. I have had panic attacks, the worst case of obsessive compulsive disorder, bi-polar, anxiety and depression. I have struggled with substance abuse.  I have struggled with self-harm and suicide. One year I tried to kill myself multiple times. 

Treatment:

Coping- I have learned several coping skills. They really help.

Recovery- I was inpatient at a mental hospital. It really helped.

Therapy- I usually see my therapist every other week. It really helps.

Medication- My medication really helps too.

I hate the stigma!

Hi 🙋‍♀️ my name is Elizabeth C., I wanted to share my story as far as all the struggles that are common for us sufferers & for the loved ones that stand by us who also need support. I began to deal with postpartum depression after my last child. Feeling overwhelmed raising 6 children. I felt alone. My husband at the time had to work afternoons and at the same time my children would be arriving from school. I reached out for help when I found myself locking myself into the bathroom & crying. It felt like a dark cloud over me. I began anti depressants for awhile. Took myself off after a couple years thinking I could better handle it. Some time went by. I had a routine down for my kids to follow & did the best i could. 

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My name is Bek. I am a 34-year-old mother who has PTSD and postpartum depression, as well as unspecified bipolar disorder. For the first time in my life I actually feel somewhat stumped when it comes to writing about my mental illness and the road of recovery. I started attending NAMI meetings as part of an outpatient program, which was proceeded by my first ever manic episode and my bipolar diagnosis. 

Depression has been a part of my life since puberty and high anxiety layered itself on top of that. Sharing my story with others has been part of my overall healing and I hope by writing this that someone out there feels less alone. The episodes are real, the panic is real, the mental strain and trauma is real. You get the picture. 

I feel like my emotions have always overwhelmed me, struggling to “get out of my own mind” and did not actively seek any mental help until my mid twenties.  I initially sought out cognitive behavioral therapy which was something very foreign to me. Change your habits, change your thoughts, feel better, right?  It allowed me to move through some of the issues that had grown deep roots in my psyche and medication was prescribed to work in combination with the therapy. I didn’t really care what I put in my body. I felt like I was in permanent survival mode but at least I was taking steps to “feel better.”  I survived. I also self-medicated with marijuana, which seemed to help keep mania at bay and in general made me feel like I could handle life better.

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I have had panic attacks since 1973 and also have depression; in 1982 I finally found treatment that worked for me–and have told other sufferers about my experience, hoping to remove the stigma for all and get treatment for those who suffer.  My family (both paternal and maternal genetics) has three documented generations of panic disorder, depression and related anxiety disorders afflicting  ten individuals.  As a child I saw my father help several of his friends get help for their mental health issues.  I did not realize that he suffered  from panic attacks and understood their pain very well; they were all men of the “Greatest Generation” and mental health was not discussed except in desperate private conversation.  I did not know that I would experience the terror of panic disorder myself as a young mother of three preschoolers. When my diagnosis was made at the at a anxiety disorders clinic, the pre admission questionnaire asked about other family members who had similar symptoms….the many phone calls to relatives unearthed the mental health issues among us.  Since then, I vowed  to end the silence and help others when I can.  Sadly, this past week, one of my family has committed suicide because of mental health issues.   My hope is that we will, in his memory, get more help for those who need help.

I was diagnosed with Manic Depression and Anxiety in 2011. An ambulance came to me and took me to the Emergency room when I was having suicidal behavior. From there I was admitted to the Psychiatric Hospital. I went through treatment at the hospital for a week and they diagnosed me with a mental illness. I was also prescribed medication and when I was released to go back home I went to therapy every week. I decided to be Homebound for the rest of my High School years up until I graduated in 2012 and walked across that stage to receive my Diploma. Almost 2 years ago I came off of my medication and stopped going to therapy for personal reasons and because I thought I could deal with it on my own and wanted to feel like myself again. (I also didn’t like the side effects of this medication.) Going through the ups and downs that I have over the years has definitely made me stronger, understand others and myself a little more, life, and I am able to cope better at this point. But, I still don’t believe my diagnoses was 100% accurate. At this point in my life I realize I have came along way but I still struggle every day with my confused thoughts and dark times. I know that I cannot continue to do life alone and try to deal with this myself. You have to work at it everyday and there is always room for improvement. I am taking action to plan to get involved in programs to balance life and help others and myself. I want to reach out to the community and help others who deal with mental illnesses to understand who they are and how to pave a path to bring out the best in them and in each other. I also want to educate people who do not understand mental illnesses and have not been diagnosed.

Keep the faith and keep on keeping on!

I encourage everyone to stay strong & don’t lose hope no matter what :)

I also have a powerful weapon to help me through each day… My relationship with God!

I am writing this letter to you as a spouse and sibling of mental illness.My brother was never fully diagnosed with depression or bipolar, he suffered several years. As a result of not getting proper treatment, his medication was changed very frequently and he  committed suicide. He left behind three children under the age of 13. It’s been really hard to understand the what and the why, he chose to take his life.

I took the next NAMI Family-to-Family program at our local VA hospital, in 2010 it was the first time I had been educated on any form of mental illness. After taking the class I wanted to let everyone that I know about all the information I learned. I took the teacher program and became an advocate for NAMI and I can honestly say that it helped me to heal from my brothers death. I still would like to know why but that’s something I will never know. 

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And I knew I wasn’t right 

So I planned on going that Friday night 

And I knew I wasn’t okay

Making it the perfect place for me to stay 

See, for most, a mental hospital isn’t a choice 

It’s one of those things where you are left without a voice 

Brought there suddenly against your will

Then before you know it, you are given a bunch of random pills 

But for me, it was where I was supposed to be

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