Pysch, Part X

I ended my journal 4 years ago because my life was turned upside down when I learned that our landlord was selling the house we rented and we had to find a house and move within three weeks. BH. was unable to help since he was on active duty during the move, so basically my parents and T. and S. helped me. By the end of the summer things were getting under control and I had gotten out of the habit of journaling and didn't pick it up again until now. It has now been almost a year and half since I cut. This was a major triumph for me. I still go at least monthly to see a therapist (more often when things get rough-one of my older sisters had breast cancer and is undergoing chemo, one of my uncles fell into complete dementia and passed away two weeks ago, DS's spring at school was a total disaster between trying to find meds that worked as well as the Ritalin did, but wouldn't make him lose weight, and the budget crisis at work). I have been able to get a better view of life in general and I can deal with everyday upsets in a mostly calm and less insane way. While I still take five different meds-Seroquel, Klonopin, Paxil, Pamelor, and Strattera-I am starting to cut back on some of them slowly because I feel that I actually can do this.

After having read my journal I realize that it sounds like I am all doped up all the time. I am less hyper but just as active as I was before I was hospitalized. DS is now 12 and very active in sports and friends, I still work full-time, I work with the youth at our church, serve on the vestry, and have just completed 30 credit hours, which will either become a Sixth year Certificate in education or will be rolled into a PhD. program. I was always one of those parents who said that my child would never be on medication for his ADHD. After experiencing the difference the right medication can make, I have fought hard to get DS treated. I don't want him to end up in the same place I was four years ago.

I hide my mental illness less than I used to. I believe that there are few people out there who realize just how many people they know who have a mental illness they hide. These are people from all walks of life who rely on medication to keep the chemical balance in their brains. That is possibly one of the biggest pet peeves I have-a mental illness is like diabetes, which is also a chemical imbalance-and people need to realize this and not believe it is all made up or for attention. I lived for 30 years with horrible nightmares on sometimes a daily basis without ever telling anyone because I thought it was normal. I also have hidden my self-mutilation as best I could.

The only other thing I have to say is that my belief in God has grown stronger over the past few years. Four years ago I went to church on a Wednesday night for a healing service. I had my suicide planned for the following Tuesday. I spent nearly three hours in church crying and begging God for help, but I thought I was asking to help me commit suicide. The next day, Thursday, I had my first appointment with a psychiatrist and was admitted immediately after that. At the time I was angry because my prayers were not answered. I now realize God did answer my prayer and that is why I am still here today, enjoying my family and working hard to maintain my health as it is. Whatever you may call that being-(s)he is there!

I strongly believe that when we get things easily we don't fully appreciate them. The following Muslim poem sums it up for me:

I asked for Strength...
and Allah gave me Difficulties to make me strong.

I asked for Wisdom...
and Allah gave me Problems to solve.

I asked for Prosperity...
and Allah gave me Brain and Brawn to work.

I asked for Courage...
and Allah gave me Danger to overcome.

I asked for Love...
and Allah gave me Troubled People to help.

I asked for Favours...
and Allah gave me Opportunities

I received nothing I wanted, Yet, I received everything I needed.

My Prayere has been answered.