My name is Nannie… I have a mental illness, I had this mental illness since the early 1990’s . It’s been a struggle throughout my life. Now I am in therapy, but it’s not the best therapy. I am going to find another therapist because the one that I have now is downright rude.
I have panic attacks, depression, bi-polar and other things too.
For those with mental illness…I know how you feel!
Blessings,
Nannie
See more posts like this on Tumblr
#depression #bipolar disorder #treatment #submission #panic attacksI suffered from mental disorders for as long as I can remember. I am diagnosed with ADD, OCD, anxiety, depression, bipolar disorder and a hormonal disorder. My panic attacks started in 1st grade. I still remember waking up or laying in bed at night then screaming in fear. I felt as if death was staring at me and going to take me, the though rushing through my head “I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. I should just end it now get it over with.” Over and over again. It lasted for years all through our the rest of elementary school I had them basically every night. I developed a sleep phobia because it always happened at bed time. In 7th grade my depression hit…cutting suicidal thoughts and a few attempts.
It lasted till 10th grade, my improvement happened in 9th after a sorta suicide attempt. It was that I wanted to die but I didn’t care if I did, I knew that if I took to many pills something would happen and that point that was all I wanted. I lived my day to day life with no emotion drained of all energy. At home I layed on my bed not moving and no energy to even blink some times. I saw the point in nothing, I would cut because it told me I was alive and I was able to feel something which is all I wanted. I admit I was scared to get better I forgot what happiness felt like so it scared it. Happiness had become the unknown depression was my blanket.
Hi! I have been diagnosed with Type II Bipolar Disorder, Clinical Depression, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Social Anxiety Disorder and PTSD. I have been in treatment since 1994. Sounds like a mess doesn’t it? I’ll admit for many years there were times I thought I was crazy. There were times I thought I had two personalities, which I found out I don’t. Some doctors have tried to diagnose me with Borderline Personality Disorder as well. After reading about it, I believe they could be right about that too. Many of it’s symptom also fit me.
The reason I am writing this is to say that there is hope! I wasn’t diagnosed with Bipolar until I was nearly 45. I am now 61. I knew since my teen years that there was something wrong with me, but I didn’t know what. I didn’t know back then that there was help. I didn’t know in my 30’s or 40’s there was help. Mental illness wasn’t talked about then like it is now. I was ashamed at first, but you know what? I talk about it freely now. Mental Illness is no different than having heart disease, or diabetes, or kidney disease. Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Your brain is just as much an organ as your heart, the organ that regulates your insulin, and your kidney.
I have accepted the fact that I have to take my “psych” meds, as I call them, for the rest of my life. Right along with my blood pressure medicine and potassium for my heart. It doesn’t make me weak. It makes me a survivor!
**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!
On September 9rd 2003, my doctor diagnosed me with Bipolar Disorder I . (Bipolar II is mostly depression with some manic episodes. Bipolar I is full blown mania with little depression.
My doctor described my diagnosis to me in this way: I’m a 78 RPM person trying to function in a 33 1/3 world. For you baby boomers, you’ll know what I mean. If you’re younger than a baby boomer and don’t understand the analogy, ask your parents to explain it to you.
When I’m manic, I’m like the energizer bunny. Always going. Creating something. Wanting something.
Right after I got diagnosed, I jumped into crafts and started making these little wooden window seats.
I didn’t create one or two, or a few. I created dozens. And dozens. And boxes full. I obsessed over getting every single wooden window seat in the Tampa area so I could make something out of it. Then I wanted a puppy. (Thank goodness my husband saw fit to tell me no at that time) Then I jumped into soap making. I made pounds and pounds of soap. (All of this is in less than a week.)
I’m going to be very honest with you all that are reading this. I come from a broken family with an unstable mother and a drug addicted father. I have a bipolar disorder and suffer from panic attacks and self harm and depression. I have had many friends and a couple of family members who had committed suicide. And, when it comes to me having suicidal thoughts I realize I shouldn’t do it because I’ve been through that heart break and I don’t want anymore people going through it. I started cutting two years ago at the age of 12. I look at cutting as a pain re leaver and a get away. After I cut myself I feel ashamed and then the ashamed feeling makes me want to cut more, which I end up doing. I always wear pants and long sleeves because of my scars.
I was first diagnosed with major depressive disorder when I was 13 years old. By the time I reached 16, a few more labels were added to the MMD. These included borderline personality disorder, bipolar disorder, post traumatic stress disorder and OCD. Fun stuff. Medication was the only treatment available at that time. My parents decided the best place for me to be was hospitalized in the mental health unit of a large teaching hospital. I felt and thought the reason for such a drastic change in my life was for their convenience, not what was best for me.
Little background, my father, a surgeon, was diagnosed with severe bipolar disorder, treatment was medication. When the medication no longer controlled the symptoms, he would stop working and sit staring blankly at the television for about 3 months. At some point, my mother would notice and send him out of town for a series of ECT. He would return from his “vacation” zombie like but after a few weeks or so, would return to his baseline personality. He always had a flat affect most of the time.
So, apparently I inherited the gene or genes for mental illness of one name or another.
It was June 2003 when I was first diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder which, no doubt, had gone undiagnosed for my entire life. My life was sprinkled with extreme anxiety attacks, OCD, manic episodes, and especially severe depression. By the time I had my own family – a wife and two boys of my own – my depression had gotten out of control.
For me depression was and is extended periods of time inside a six foot cube with no stimulus. No light sneaking in through my lids. No sound other than shallow, rushed breaths. No breeze touching my face. Alone.
I’m a 04-05 OIF Veteran who is diagnosed with PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Panic, and recently Bipolar disorder. I’m a bit confused, anxious , scared, and uncertain of a lot of things. My actions in the past has had a yoo yoo effect, ups and downs and now I just want to stay home all the time because I don’t really trust anyone anymore. I had some untrusting situationships, started drinking more than usual to escape my feelings. I’m trying to understand myself at this time, I have other physical health problems also so I have days that I may not be able to get out the bed besides bathroom and eat if that. I’m a very private person so I don’t open up to people much. I do have therapy and I was starting to open up to a friend but that went south do to my actions.
i have schizoaffective bipolar type disorder as well as gad and ocd, i had bpd as a prior diagnosis as well with just bipolar disorder. i have been dealing with anxiety everyday as well as flashback of trauma snd family abuse, i was sexually abused twice, everyday is a challenge, mainly my thoughts and fears and paranoia it all causes my depression, my mood i can get pretty angry even in public a few times, i have family that knows im ill but not very understanding and much supportive, i suffer from being insecure bc of my disease or disorder whichever and ashamed bc i know im someone u can easily judge. i had a hard life, anxiety runs in my family and bipolar i believe. ive had past suicide attempts which were serious and glad im still here, i dont have any friends who understand my illness or or to much supportive of it. im on psyche meds that are somewhat helping.
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.