KATHY'S STORY: Keep the faith: The hell ends, and a beautiful life full of joy awaits

[WebDevElijah]

KATHY'S STORY:

 

I came off 20 years’ worth of psych drugs after one year of tapering. The drugs included Klonopin, an anti-depressant, an anti-psychotic, and a mood stabilizer. I had been diagnosed at the age of 35 with “Bipolar” following a 10-year period of intense stress in my marriage.

 

I am now 45 months off and about 85% improved on my good days. I went to Walmart today and was light and happy, which is a complete miracle, especially if you knew how much I hated that place and swore I would never go back. I do not know how I survived the drug withdrawal except by some supernatural force giving me the strength to endure. I almost always believed that I’d recover, and it’s finally, miraculously proving to be true.
 

The Bipolar label has proven to be a misdiagnosis, and I’m not sure that illness even exists. I remain on desiccated thyroid hormone for hypothyroidism, which often presents with bipolar symptoms when untreated.

 

My most egregious symptoms were: severe, extreme burning and stinging nerve pain deep in the neck, back of the head (occipital bone), shoulders, collarbone, and spine; constriction of the throat, chest, and torso, making breathing difficult; derealization/depersonalization; a feeling for a solid year of my body being electrocuted along with the total inability to sleep for that year so there was no escape; intrusive thoughts from hell like demons screaming; terror attacks; unbelievable bizarre head pains like steel rods or jagged rocks in my head; a band around my head squeezing so hard I could hear the bones crunching; teeth clenching that caused three cracked molars; constant suicidal ideation ("I wanna die" thought on repeat); severe cognitive fog; existential crisis; PTSD; fear; rage; confusion; frequent urination; sensitivity to noise; strange putrid smells that weren’t there; inability to concentrate, remember things, or talk; paranoia; RLS; psychosis; urges to rip off clothes and run down the street screaming—all these occurring at once. I wanted to shave off all my hair, pull out all my teeth, and go naked. I could not stand anything touching me.

 

Thank God I did not do that or drive into a brick wall as the derealization had me thinking nothing was real and I could do that without getting hurt.

The best way I can describe what it’s like to have a hateful tormentor in your mind is to share part of an entry from my journal written at two years off, when things calmed down enough that I could even write out the thoughts in that moment. Before that, I had to focus all my attention very hard on the present moment constantly, which distracted me from paying attention to the part of my brain that was going “insane.” That technique disallowed the insanity to take over my consciousness completely. I never acted out once. This was how I coped: I put the mind and body on ignore.

 

 

Here is my journal entry, verbatim:

“My brain feels like it could explode with the pain and all the thoughts. I am trying so hard to figure out why? Why am I here? Who am I? What is the use of this stupid planet? I feel like God is trying to drive me to insanity—complete and total. It is amazing that I have not completely cracked up already. Ben…I gave up so much for him because I thought I cared for him, but now I feel only resentment. I do not like that little bastard at all. Who the hell is he? Who stole the real Ben? This is a little freak who I don’t want to have anything to do with.

 

This world is completely insane. I go into a chat room and get attacked. What the hell is that? I am searching for connection and that is what I find? I am not supposed to listen to or believe my thoughts. What kind of crazy-making is that? It is making me completely insane. Why would God give us a mind that lies and tries to destroy us and this planet? Day and night. It is so strange that I don’t want to kill myself right now. So strange when things are so brutal now. I cannot be loved on this planet. I cannot be loved or cared for or understood. I am alone. My neck is killing me. I chose to live in this hell…why would I do that? For my entertainment? I must be completely crazy to have gone off the drugs. I did this to myself.”

 

 

The symptoms eased off so slowly that I could not tell I was healing. I had one “window” of no pain and a quiet mind in my 18th month off, which lasted the entire day. I was in heaven.

 

My next window appeared suddenly in my 37th month off. Then they became more frequent. I took a trip alone to a tropical island for two weeks. I had zero pain and that quiet mind with normal thoughts and feelings. I swam every day in the ocean and felt the joy of being alive. Towards the end of the vacation, I had two and a half drinks of alcohol and took a red-eye flight home. It seems that the alcohol put me into a setback that cost me eight more months of terrible waves, sometimes feeling like I was back at the beginning again.

 

Lately, I’ve been experiencing a lightening of symptoms again and am hopeful that by spring, I’ll be good enough to participate in life again. There is more healing to do psychologically and spiritually, and I have a strong desire to be well in every way, so I will pursue whatever it takes to achieve that wellness goal.

 

Keep the faith, everyone. The hell ends, and a beautiful life full of empowerment and joy awaits. That is my belief—that we are doing this for a reason, that we are strong enough to endure, and that we have stories to tell. Hopefully, those stories will bring some good into this world.