Showing posts with label suicide. Show all posts
Showing posts with label suicide. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Bipolar disorder: Let's take this deadly disease seriously

15 to 17 percent of people who have bipolar disorder die by suicide. Sticking to a prescribed medication regime can help patients beat those odds.

Sometimes the memory of my hospitalization comes back to me in cinematic flash backs.

“Give me paper. I need paper,” I screamed at the triage nurse in the ER.

This was the second time I’d been to the ER in as many weeks. I apparently had my shit together too much during my first visit to the ER to be admitted. I was put on a waiting list to receive outpatient treatment.

But, by my second trip to the ER, my mania had tailspinned into psychosis. Bipolar disorder with psychotic features  is common in type 1 bipolar disorder.

I grabbed the paper and pen from the nurse’s hand and scribbled “Jesus loves Karl Rove.”  I underlined the phrase and then shoved the paper back at the nurse.

In my demented mind, I firmly believed that the campaign tactics used by Karl Rove in the 2004 presidential election were an elaborate scheme to shove me out of the religious community in which I had grown up. I had lost everything after those elections, or so it seemed. I became severely depressed and once my depression lifted these manic thoughts took over.

I don’t remember anything else about the triage room after that point. I woke up to my grandparents beside me in my hospital bed.

A doctor soon came in to tell me that I was coming down from a manic episode and that I had a textbook case of bipolar type 1.

That episode occurred 10 years ago. I’ve been on 900 to 1200 mg of lithium daily since. I’ve had great success with my treatment with little side effects, but not everyone is as fortunate.

The death of 28-year-old Natalie Fuller should remind us all how serious this disease really is. Natalie lost her battle with mental illness on March 14.

Natalie experienced her first psychotic break at 22 — the same age that I was when I experienced mine. 

Natalie’s mother wrote an account of Natalie’s battle with mental illness in the Washington Post. In the story she said Natalie would go through phases were she would quit taking her medicine. She said Natalie didn't think they worked for her.

When I first received my diagnosis, the psychiatrists at KU Med put me on a cocktail of lithium, Depakote and Risperdal. My hands trembled, I gained 20 pounds and I felt no emotions. I wanted to get off it all, but the doctors convinced me to tapper down to just the lithium and give it a try. They explained that every time you relapse the episodes get worse and the shorter the period between episodes the more intense subsiquent episodes will be.

Getting off medication is not an option, they said. You will end up back in the hospital; you might end up in jail; you could end up dead.

I've been on my medication for 10 years because the thought of the hospital, jail and death scare me.

15 to 17 percent of people who have bipolar disorder die by suicide.  Put inperspective, approximately  .0101 percentof the general population in the United States dies by suicideThe survival rate of stage 2 breast cancer  is higher than that of bipolar disorder.

This, my friends, is a serious, deadly illness. Let’s start treating it that way.



Tuesday, August 12, 2014

A Whole New World


As I read through all the posts about Robin Williams today I couldn't help but think of my favorite films that featured him.

Aladdin immediately came to mind. I went to see Aladdin in the theaters with my sister Tempest and our Uncle Rob when I was 10 years old.

Rob was technically our step uncle, but he was the only one of my step dad’s family that I actually claimed as my own.  I liked Rod. He had cool books at his apartment, like the Lord of the Rings trilogy and a slew of Choose Your Own Adventure Books.

Rob always said interesting things. On the way back home from the Aladdin he did this cool trick where he predicted which cars would stop and turn with 100 percent accuracy. (When I learned what a turn signal was that trick didn’t seem quite as magical.)

I talk about Rob in past tense because like Robin Williams, Rob Morrison also lost his battle to depression. Rob took his own life in a way similar to how Robin Williams reportedly did.

Depression and suicide are so hard to comprehend. As someone who has bipolar disorder and suffers from depression the countless number of “there’s hope, let’s fight the stigma” posts that I see on Facebook in light of Williams’ death don’t encourage me. Maybe because I know that a week from now I’ll see another insensitive comment making light of mental illness and be reminded that we don’t see these diseases as the clinical brain disorders that they are.

Mental illness and addiction are clinical illnesses and they need to be treated as such.

When it comes to depression, I often hear people say you can’t understand this beast until you’ve had to slay it yourself. I think there’s truth in that. But I also think it’s important for people to have an awareness of what it’s like to suffer from depression. So I started thinking about what it was like for me.

My darkest bout with depression occurred in 2005. By the time my depression reached a stage that I would call full blown, I found it difficult to connect my thoughts. It felt as if the electrical cord that connected my brain to reality had been cut.  I couldn’t piece together information to write stories. I had trouble following my sources during interviews. I remember staring at computer monitor for hours, hours, trying to come up with a lead about a high school senior I had been assigned to write a feature about.

I felt fatigued. Not tired, fatigued. I once heard someone describe fatigue as carrying around wet afghan on your shoulders. This is how I felt, how I constantly felt. My limbs felt like noodles. Similar to how I had experienced after a bad case of the flu. Only this didn’t go away.

I had no motivation. No motivation to eat. No motivation to go to class. (I was in my last semester of undergrad.) No motivation to go to work. (I had a part-time job at the local newspaper.) No motivation to shower. (I reached a point where to the thought of water actually terrified me.) No motivation to even get out of bed. (Eventually the thought of simply getting out of bed also terrified me.) I had no motivation.

I slept a lot when I was depressed. As much as possible. I cut back on my hours at work, skipped class, and isolated myself from friends. I did anything I could to get more sleep. And I thought maybe if I got enough sleep I wouldn’t feel as fatigued my motivation would come back.

I tried to drink more water, and go for walks and pray. But none of these things work. I tried to watch college basketball, but even the Kansas Jayhawks couldn’t bring me out of this funk.

Eventually my prayers changed to pleas for God to put me out of my misery. I wanted my life to end. There came a time where I had no other desire than that to end my life, to escape the sorrow, and fear and darkness that consumed me. I had no suicide plan. I didn’t want to end my life myself, but rather I wanted

God to end it, if for no other reason than as an act of mercy.

You see, I believed in God. I still do. And I believed that if there was a Hell then surely I had already entered it.

Well, God didn’t end my life. My depression lasted for almost five months. It took a couple months of being on Paxil for the depression to lift and it took several more months for a doctor to accurately diagnose me as bipolar.

It’s been almost 10 years since that depression and I am alive. My life has trials, but I am a live. I have a life. And I love it.

When I hear stories of those who have lost their battle to depression I say a prayer of thanks that by God’s grace I overcame mine; I say a prayer of help that I may overcome the episodes of depression to come; And I say a prayer of wow at the beautiful thing we call life.

Robin Williams had a beautiful life. May he rest in peace.

Thursday, March 21, 2013

5 things I learned from depression

I don’t like to write about depression. I don’t like to talk about depression. I don’t like think about depression. I don’t like to acknowledge that depression even exists. I would rather steal the words of The Bloggess Jenny Lawson and say “Let’s pretend this never happened,” when it comes to depression.

I’ve lost too many days to depression as is and the reality of bipolar disorder is that the possibility of another episode of depression is always on the horizon.

Sometimes you can do all the things you are supposed to do- stay hydrated, exercise, eat healthy- and you can’t escape the slip into darkness. This weekend I felt a numbness in the place where joy usually resides. It was husband’s birthday, KU was killing it on the court in the Big 12 Tournament, yet I felt nothing but pain. It hurts to think about depression because I know I’ll never get those days back. Those opportunities for celebration are gone. And I’ve already lost too many days to this disorder as is.

I don’t want to think about, or talk about, or write about depression, but I am because if the lessons I’ve learned can help even one person then maybe, just maybe, my lost days will have some redemption.

So here’s what I’ve learned about depression:

  1. Get help sooner rather than later. I know, you think you can do it on your own. Or maybe you think you don’t deserve help. Or maybe you think you can’t afford help. Or maybe you think you can pray this demon away. There a million reasons not to get professional help. IGNORE ALL OF THEM. I lost a lot of days listing reasons why I shouldn’t get help. And I will never get those days back. You can start with your primary care doctor but I always recommend follow up with a psychiatrist. If you have bipolar disorder SSRI’s, which are often used to treat depression, could trigger a manic or hypomanic episode.
  2. If you EVER, EVER, have thoughts of hurting yourself or fixations of death call your doctor immediately. If you don’t have a doctor call the National Suicide and Crisis Hotline at 1 (800) 784-2433. I know this can be the hardest thing to talk about. Trust me, I’ve been there. There is so much judgement surrounding suicide and you may think that no one will understand what you are going through. The truth is, you may be right about no one understanding, but there are people who can help even if they don’t understand your condition completely.
  3. Let your friends/family/significant other be there for you. This too can be hard. You may think of yourself as charity case, but I can assure you that your loved ones don’t. They care about you. Let them take you to lunch and stay by your side as you ride this out. If you are lucky enough to have loved ones that are there for you, for God’s sake let them be there for you.
  4. Stick to your routine as much as possible while you ride out this storm. Continue to exercise, meditate and go to work if possible. Go through the motions. Even if you are only going through the motions while you wait for your medications to adjust it will make the transition back to health easier than if you cave into the urge and stay in bed all day.
  5. Know your support team. My husband, best friend and therapist are the three people I know I can be completely honest with, even if my darkest moments. I know these people will never give up on me and they are who I turn to when I start to feel the darkness rising. Identify your support team and don’t be afraid to cling to them.
Life is tough and messy and depression can make life unmanageable. But there is hope. There is life after depression. That is what I always tell myself. And to be honest I’ve had days where I don’t even believe those words even as I tell them to myself. But on the other side of depression I’m so glad that I hung on even when I couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel.