 
### Coming Up for Air

### My Journey with Bipolar Disorder

Melany Woods

Copyright © 2013 Melany Woods

Cover Art by Ed Ferguson

Cover Layout by Joleene Naylor

Edited by Barbara Ferguson & Patricia Trunkwalter & Gene

Smashwords Edition

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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author.

### Acknowledgements

Thank you to my "editing team": Lisa, Gail, Tiffany, Erica, Gene, Amy, Karen, Sue,

Jill, Pat, Dominica, Nicole, Donna, Aunt Barbara.

Thank you to Pat, Dominica, Nicole, Donna and all others who have never given up on me. You know who you are.

A special thanks to Mrs. Stansbury, who has been there every step of the way throughout the book writing process. I could not have written this book without your support.

Thanks to Gail for always believing in me and supporting me no matter what.

Thank you to my family- Mom, Dad, and Tiffany, for always being there for me in good times and bad times. I wouldn't be who I am today without you.

The names of the people and places have been changed to protect the privacy of the people and places involved. All similarities of names are purely coincidental.

### Table of Contents

Intro

Chapter 1: Life before Bipolar

Chapter 2: First Episode

Chapter 3: First Hospitalization

Chapter 4: I Want to go Home

Chapter 5: A New Start

Chapter 6: Next Step

Chapter 7: Jumping Back into Life

Chapter 8: A Great Summer

Chapter 9: An Awesome Fall 2005

Chapter 10: Leading into Mania

Chapter 11: Mania Comes on Again

Chapter 12: Worst Hospitalization Ever

Chapter 13: Completely Thrown Back

Chapter 14: Still Going Through the Motions

### Chapter 15: A Blah Summer

Chapter 16: Fall 2007 – Feeling a Little Less Blah

Chapter 17: Deep Depression

Chapter 18: Finally Feeling Better

Chapter 19: A Relapse with Psychosis

Chapter 20: 2009: A Full Year (well, almost) of Progress

Chapter 21: Manic Episode with Psychosis Once More

Chapter 22: Another Comeback

Chapter 23: Summer 2010 - Another Hospitalization

Chapter 24: Trying Again

Chapter 25: 2011- A Dynamic Year

Chapter 26: What Happened? December 2011.

Chapter 27: 2012- A Year Dedicated to Being Healthy

Chapter 28: A New Job

Chapter 29: A Hypomanic Episode

Chapter 30: Things Looking Up Again

Final Thoughts

Website Link

### Intro

How do you go from a typical college student working on campus, spending time with friends, and studying for exams, to a patient waking up in a locked psychiatric unit, to doctors asking you what day it is and who the president is, every morning? How do you go from a person with goals of being a pharmacist one day and aiming for A's on every test and project to someone whose goal for the day is to simply get out of bed and take a shower? How do you go from a typically healthy young adult having never even been to a counselor to one who requires medications, psychotherapy and hospitalizations? These are questions I ask myself often after being diagnosed in September of 2004 with bipolar disorder. The answers to these questions, even after being educated on the facts of bipolar disorder for nine years, I am still not completely sure of today. I'm not sure I will ever really know all the reasons why, but I have figured out a lot and accomplished a lot during my journey with the help of many great people in my life and with my own coping skills and insight as well.

A journey with bipolar disorder is not a journey one typically hopes for. I can say even though bipolar disorder has made me a very strong, compassionate and knowledgeable person, I would have much rather be going on a simpler journey on a more predictable course. Bipolar disorder is far from predictable. Who knew that at one point I would be working as a paraprofessional at a special needs school with a steady paycheck one week and the next week signing up to be a missionary to a foreign country (I am terrified of planes and do not know anything about being a missionary) and doing "surgery" in my room while watching reruns for hours of the TV drama Grey's Anatomy? My heights of mania have taken me to places I never imagined I would go- places I never thought existed. Places that are real to me and exist in my mind only when I am manic. It is after I come down from the mania that I realize far how off my thoughts and behavior were from the responsible, organized, introverted, and careful person that I am.

I really am not sure where I would be without the help of many great doctors and therapists. Along the way, there were some doctors who I think made poor decisions. Some doctors prescribed me medications too strong such as Haldol. Some had the wrong prognosis wanting to commit me to another hospital or perform electric shock therapy on a 19 year old who had never been diagnosed with any mental illness. Luckily, the great doctors and mental health professionals in my case made up for that. The doctors who looked at me when I was very sick and I could not even take care of myself or speak and realized that with the rights meds and returning to my home environment I could get better are the ones who have saved my life numerous times.

Not only do the doctors have the ability to be life savers in so many important ways, but also the therapists who became my guides, unconditional supporters, motivators, teachers, trusted companions, and cheerleaders. I never knew that a therapist could be so important in all aspects of my life. My therapists have never seen me as just a patient with bipolar disorder. They have seen me as a person who struggles with the ups and downs of bipolar disorder and also as one who has dreams and goals like everyone else. Each and every therapist I have been to over the years has respected me as a person and never let the diagnosis of my bipolar disorder get in the way of that. I am lucky to have met such caring and accepting people.

When my friends and family heard the diagnosis of bipolar disorder, there were various reactions. Some were shocked that I had bipolar disorder and didn't necessarily agree with the diagnosis or my being on medication. They believed that because I had such a heavy caseload of classes at Silva College, it was a reaction to high stress levels. Six manic episodes later would sadly prove them wrong. My immediate family did accept the diagnosis in the beginning and wanted to know everything possible they could do to help. From my sister making binders for me of facts about bipolar disorder to my dad, driving me almost two hours to and from an intensive outpatient program three days a week, and of course, my mother doing everything and anything possible to make me feel safe, my family could not have been more supportive.

My friends and classmates were always there for me as well. I have never felt afraid to tell anyone that I have bipolar disorder except for work situations where a boss not intentionally judging me may think my work could suffer from it. Friends in college that I have told always asked if there was anything they could do. They were also curious to learn more about the mania. Friends from high school visited me while I was at my worst in the hospital and still saw me as their friend and not a crazy mental patient. I even had a friend, after hearing that the doctors at a hospital wanted to give me electric shock therapy, was ready to fly back from Brooke City, Pennsylvania to stop it.

Even though bipolar disorder has affected my school and work goals because it has made my life come to grinding halts and has made me have to stop everything for months in recovery from a manic episode, I love school and work too much to ever give it up. Learning and working is something that has helped me tremendously, even though the setbacks are very frustrating. It is hard when I am excelling at a job and having great relationships with colleagues and a positive outlook on my life and suddenly have a manic episode and have to stop working immediately. The loss is overwhelming.

I tend to focus on the manic episodes because those are the ones that disable me, that keep me from being able to work and drive and greatly disrupt my sleep. But following every manic episode there has naturally been depression. Depression for me is sleeping a lot, crying a lot, and replaying over and over what went wrong. My doctor does usually prescribe some meds for depression after my episodes but has to be careful they will not induce mania. Sometimes I wish I could be manic rather than depressed. At least it doesn't hurt.

It has taken me a while to express all my feelings and thoughts on how bipolar disorder has felt for me. My journey with bipolar disorder has taken me to mania, psychosis, depression and everything in-between. My goal in writing about my journey is not to focus on the facts and symptoms of bipolar disorder, but to describe from personal experience what it feels like to experience it – emotionally, physically, and psychologically.

### Chapter 1: Life before Bipolar

Life before bipolar was as typical as life could be. Even at the age of 19 before my first episode I was not really sure what bipolar disorder even was. I had no knowledge of psych medications and even hearing that someone had depression was scary and unknown to me. Psychology and therapy was just nothing I had ever experienced.

My life was very typical as a child. I was born in 1985 in Starbrooke, CT. Starbrooke is a large town in CT that is very close to the beach and not too far from cities such as NYC. I have one sister, Tiffany, who is six years older than I am. When I was born, I lived with my parents and my maternal grandmother who I called "Nan." My house where I grew up, which I still live in today, is a two-story "mother-daughter" house. There are kitchens on each floor and the downstairs resembles a small apartment. Growing up, my parents, my sister and I lived upstairs while my Nan lived downstairs.

My relationships with my family have been consistent throughout my life. My sister and I always got along and were always there for each other. My sister Tiffany was very protective of me when I was young. She would always stick up for me and make sure I was happy when I was sad. She would always teach me a lot about everything, as an older sister does. When I was very little, we took many videos of us dancing, singing, and playing out in the yard. As we got older because of our six year age gap, we had our own friends and did our own activities – such as when I was in my last year of elementary school, Tiffany was getting ready to drive. We never really got into any fights. For the most part, my sister and I have always had a close and supportive relationship.

I always had, and still have, great relationships with both of my parents. My dad has always had a good sense of humor and to this day, he still makes me laugh. He was always interested in how school was going. In high school, we would go walking a lot on the boardwalk in the summer for exercise because I ran cross-country all four years. He was there for all my cross- country meets, banquets, graduation, and college events.

My mom and I have always been very close. She was always there for everything I did when I was young and still to today. She was very involved as a class mom in school and would go to every dance and cheering competition I was in, along with all the practices. Whenever we went shopping she would always get me something nice whether dolls when I was little or nice clothes or new cross-country sneakers when I was in high school. At home, she always took great care of me. She was friendly with a group of other mothers around the neighborhood and they formed a "play group" for all their children. I made many friends in the play group and we were busy all the time. I never have felt afraid to tell her and or ask Mom anything. She is my "rock."

The relationship I had with my Nan I still benefit from today and always will. My Nan was gentle, caring, and generous. She was loved by so many. I have learned countless things from her. We spent a lot of time together. She was always home, as she lived downstairs. I would always be downstairs with her. She would cook for me, play games with me, help me with schoolwork, and everything in between. Whenever I made anything when I was a kid, I would run to show her. Whenever I was upset or crying, I would run to her to make me feel better. My Nan was kind and patient and my number one fan. People referred to me as being the apple of her eye. She was always so proud of me and she would tell everyone about every little accomplishment of mine. She loved seeing me happy.

My Nan only had good things to say about me and everyone else as well. I was lucky to have known her for twelve years of my life. I would not be the same person I am today if I did not get to spend those twelve years with her.

My parents worked consistently when I was young. My sister and I never needed day care because my Nan would always be home. My mom has always worked in the admissions area of Starbrooke Medical Center which once was Starbrooke Hospital. She works forty hours a week. At times, she has worked extra jobs such as a home health aide and a patient one-on-one when we've been tight with money. My dad has worked various jobs. He had his own business at one point. He also has worked with adult special needs and in sales. We were always comfortable with money when I was younger but the last couple of years, starting around when I was in high school, have been a struggle.

As to my development as a child, I reached all the milestones appropriately. Looking in my baby book that my mom still has, I acquired walking and speech and learning to dress myself all within the normal time periods, even earlier than kids my age. I adjusted quickly to school as well.

I did not have any major medical problems. I did have seizures but they were mini-mal seizures and they went away by the time I went to school. I have never had a problem with seizures since the age of four. Operations I have had included typical procedures such as getting tubes in my ears and my tonsils and adenoids removed. I needed glasses around the age of ten as I was near-sighted. I would get contacts when I was fourteen, right before I started high school.

Something that was often noted about me is how creative I was. I would write stories and poems at six years old. I remember showing my second grade teacher my stories to read. I was always drawing and making up stories in my free time. I loved school and would run off the bus into the house to show my Nan all my projects from the day. I would later find out that many studies have shown that creativity and bipolar disorder are linked. From my own experience, I can say that is true. It does make sense to me because for your brain to create these manic episodes you do have to be a little on the creative side. I'm sure some people who are not creative at all also can have bipolar disorder, but at least in my case I believe my creativity and bipolar disorder are linked in some way.

We usually went close to home when we went on vacations. We would go every year to Shoreline, CT in the summer – a beach vacation spot with lots of hotels and a large boardwalk two hours south of where we lived. We did go to Florida one year on a train. I especially liked Epcot Center and the pancakes shaped like Mickey Mouse, which I still remember today. Also, in the summer when my Nan was still alive we would go to my Aunt Barbara and Uncle Ed's campsite in the Poconos of Pennsylvania. I still remember how much I loved the bunk beds, the pool, and roasting marshmallows. We always had a great time there.

We were close to both my parents' extended families. My mom's brother and sister-in-law, Uncle Ed and Aunt Barbara, and my cousin Eddie would come to our house every holiday before they moved to Ohio. They would always bring my sister and I lots of gifts.

My dad's brother, our Uncle Gary, and his family would come over for birthdays. Most of our family's birthdays are in August, including mine, my sister, my mom's, my great aunt, and my uncle. August was always a busy month for us.

My dad's parents lived in a retirement village a couple minutes away. We went there a couple times a year. I got along with them well but I was naturally closer to my Nan because she lived at home with us.

My parents got divorced when I was eight in 1993. They were always more like friends and they were having some problems in their marriage. When they got divorced my dad moved out into his father's house. I still saw my dad a lot as he would take my sister and I out for ice cream, to Shoreline, and to the beach. I was always busy as a child and I spent lots of time with my Nan so my parents' divorce was not particularly hard on me. A couple years later my dad would actually move back into our house for financial reasons. This was possible because my parents got along well. We had the space downstairs after my Nan passed away for my dad to move in. My dad would later move out in 2010 with his girlfriend Sue into a retirement village.

I always had a lot of friends growing up. I had "neighbor friends" who lived on my side of the street and I had school friends as well. We did dance, gymnastics, and cheerleading together. My friends and I would make up "shows" outside of the house and we would do cheers, roller-skate, and dance. We were always very busy, going from school to practices and eating dinner quickly in between. My neighbor friends and I would hang out on the weekends all day long. We would make up dances, play games, go into pool, and spend a lot of time outside.

I didn't have any particular fears growing up except for shyness, as I was fearful to talk to people I did not know very well. Around close friends and family I was less shy. I also was a perfectionist, and would not accept anything less than perfect of myself in school and sports. I would have a hard time accepting any failure. I was always striving for perfection.

My teachers in elementary school always wrote on my report card that I was a pleasure to have in class. I got excellent grades, usually straight As. I was very quiet in school, but there always were a handful of kids in each class that were quiet. It was nothing abnormal. Being shy did not prevent me from having friends, participating in sports and getting good grades.

My mom would videotape everything my sister, friends and I did as we were growing up - from holidays to birthday parties to spending time outside. I would later watch these videos during hard times to relive a time that was easier and carefree.

There were normal hard times in my life as in everyone's life. The hardest time in my entire life was when my Nan passed away. It was harder than anything I have experienced with bipolar disorder. She had diabetes since before I was born, but in her last couple years she developed congestive heart disease. She also had a hernia that developed when she was in her fifties working at her dry cleaning store. She had always been too afraid to have surgery. In April of 1997 her hernia caused a blockage. She ended up having to undergo a triple bypass surgery to strengthen her heart for the hernia operation. She suffered a stroke after the heart operation and continued to decline, passing away within days. She never did get the hernia removed, as she had passed away before that operation could occur.

My mom, my sister, and I would get rides with different family members and friends to visit Nan, as the hospital she was transferred to was an hour and a half away. My sister would also drive sometimes. It was so hard when she left our house when she got sick. I remember my mom taking her to the hospital and watching her leave our house forever. I just had a bad feeling like she would never come home. My family and I cried as we watched her being transferred into the ambulance.

The house was so lonely and empty without her. I would call her and say "I want you home." Of course she said she would be home. I remember one Saturday I decided to make her a poster with tons of pictures of her and I from when I was a baby until then with a poem on it as well. It was about three feet long. I worked so hard on it and I felt better after making it. We hung it right in front of her in her room and she would tell all of her doctors that I had made that. It was the least I could do for her. I still have that poster. I will always keep it.

When she passed away my friend Michele was over and we were cleaning my pool we had in the backyard getting it ready for the summer. I just put all my thoughts into the way the soap looked in bubbles in the water as we were cleaning the pool. I can't describe a feeling. I must have been too sad to even feel anything.

I got through the wake and funeral. I told my mom she was not allowed to cry and she didn't. My friends and family were there for me and kept me very busy that summer.

My dad started dating his girlfriend Vicky around that time. They would date for a couple years. They helped me keep busy that summer- the very first summer without my Nan. Vicky had a young daughter named Katie. The four of us would do everything together from going to the beach, to the movies, to renting videos and ordering food at home.

My friends were there for me when my Nan died. I would go over to my best friend Jen's house almost every day that summer and we would hang out and make up dances to songs on the radio. Jen had an in-ground pool and we would go swimming with our friends from school. Cheering also kept me busy. Jen encouraged me to try running cross-country. I remember during cheering sign-ups for my last year of cheering, Jen and I tried to run around the field at Starbrooke High School to see if I wanted to go for cross country in 8th grade.

My neighbor friends Cathy, Anthony, and Michele were there for me as well. We kept busy that summer jumping on the trampoline and watching movies.

I still carry my Nan with me today. At my college graduation party she got her own board with all pictures of her and I on it. I felt like she was there that day with me. When I am sad or discouraged I think of what she might have said to me if she were still here today and it makes me feel better.

In middle school, I tried cross-country with Jen, kept involved with cheerleading, and maintained my grades. I really enjoyed running cross-country and track in 8th grade. I also developed a circle of close friends who would stick together throughout high school. We would do typical things like go see movies, have appetizers and dinner at restaurants, go to the mall, and hang out. We were all good kids and into our grades and sports.

I had the same circle of friends in high school. We remained close from freshman to senior year. I also had friends from cross country and track. I really didn't have any enemies and got along well with mostly everyone.

I continued with the cross-country and track for four years. I wasn't a state championship runner but I enjoyed going to the practices because a lot of my friends ran cross country and track. It was fun going to various parks and boardwalks to go running. The meets always made me nervous as I was a perfectionist but I always focused on just lowering my time. I did get a medal a couple times. The pasta parties and banquets were also a lot of fun. Also when I was stressed out, after I ran I would feel relaxed.

I did date the last two years of high school. I dated a boy named Chris who was very smart, kind, and caring. We did a lot together and he was always there for me. We went to both proms together. Towards the end of senior year though I just needed some space and just did not want to continue the relationship. I had a lot on my mind and was stressed from everything going on such as visiting colleges and advanced placement/honors classes.

I took a lot of honors and advanced placement classes. I liked to learn new things, study and read. I had great teachers who were inspirational and knowledgeable. I was always busy with an essay or studying for a test. I wasn't a genius or anything but I did get good grades and I ended up graduating 4th in my class out of over 300 students. My best friend Jen in high school ended up as the salutatorian. She mentioned me in her speech at our graduation ceremony.

I did not have a car in high school as I did not work and really couldn't afford one. I was always fearful of driving so that didn't really bother me. I always had rides anywhere such as to school, practices, and the movies through friends. I never felt like a nuisance to anyone.

My sister had dated here and there but she met her first serious boyfriend when she was 20 years old who would later become her husband. His name was Brian. We all liked him right away. He was six years older than my sister. They met through work. He ended up moving in upstairs because he had a fire in his house. They married in 2006 and were together until 2011, when they got divorced because of problems with their marriage.

While they were together, my sister, Brian, and I visited colleges I was looking at and they both would help me every time I moved into dorms and apartments at college in the future. The three of us would always visit my Aunt Barbara and Uncle Ed together and go to many family functions on my dad's side of the family. At home, we got along and everyone did their own thing.

I always wanted to go to a four-year college. My SAT scores were decent around 1260 out of 1600 and I got into every school I applied to. I was even offered a full scholarship to one of them. I visited many colleges in CT and in Pennsylvania with my sister and Brian, as well as with my parents. I was looking for a college with a good science program at that time. Also, I wanted to go to a college where I would feel comfortable and would fit me. At the end, I was torn between attending Rometo in CT, which had offered me a full scholarship, or Silva in Pennsylvania, which I really liked and was offered some money. I ended up choosing Silva College.

I chose Silva College because they had an excellent science program and when I visited it I liked the campus and the dorms a lot as well. I liked that it was not too big either. At the time, I had many teachers in high school tell me Silva would be a good school for me. I was excited about starting college after high school graduation.

I spent most of the summer after high school graduation with my friends and getting ready for college. One day, after coming home from my friend's house, Brian and Tiffany filled up my entire room with supplies for my dorm room as a surprise for me. I also shopped a lot for dorm supplies. I was so excited to start college.

When I started college, I adjusted quickly. My roommate Jess and I got along and everything felt comfortable. We made friends at our dorm and watched movies, went shopping, and walked to classes together. I got a job at the security office getting $5.15 an hour. I would answer phones and give out keys.

I took biology and chemistry my first semester along with general classes. The amount of material we covered was enormous and the labs were long. Compared to high school, I had to study a lot more to get good grades in these classes. They were hard. It was a lot to learn. Mostly everyone around me in the science classes were already thinking about getting into medical school. My career goals ranged from a medical technologist to medical researcher and the last career I was considering was pharmacy.

My workload was very heavy. I would study four or five hours a night and mostly all day on the weekend. I was in an honors dorm so most of the other students would do the same. It was very competitive, although I wasn't really competing with anyone but myself.

I decided to stay on campus and take a genetics class the summer of 2004. Food services would pay for your room and board if you worked there during the summer, which is what I did. I also worked in the security office as well, some nights 8PM to 3AM. There was a lot going on between work and classes. I met a good friend Maria that summer and we would hang out and go to the gym and do the elliptical. I was happy during the summer. It was just very busy but nothing out of the ordinary.

There was a two-week break for me before I went back to Silva for the fall semester of 2004. I came home. Things felt a little weird because I hadn't been home in almost a year except for holidays. I shopped for some dorm supplies and clothes for school and saw my neighbor friends. I also went with my mom and her boyfriend to New York City, because at college I had went on a trip to NYC to see Phantom of the Opera, and I wanted to go to NYC with my mom. We went on tours, went to gift shops, and took pictures. My family and I also celebrated my 19th birthday. Some family and friends came over to celebrate.

My ex-boyfriend from high school Chris also came to visit. I did not want to talk to anyone really - not just Chris. I think I was going into mania around that time, but was not diagnosed yet. I remember watching the Olympics on TV upstairs. A friend from high school came over to visit and I didn't really talk to her at all. Looking back, I think the episode must have been starting around this time.

September of 2004 I headed back to Silva for my sophomore year. I was excited about my schedule and seeing my friends from class again. My sister and Brian, his friend, and my mom went with me to bring up all my stuff I needed. That was the last time I would leave my house as a typical college student with a seemingly normal life with my biggest worry being the organic chemistry class. Things were about to drastically change.

### Chapter 2: First Episode

I arrived at Silva College my sophomore year excited to start my sophomore semester. I set up my room –my comforter and my desk supplies. I organized my clothes. I put up pictures and posters. That year Jess and I decided to bunk our beds so we would have more space in the room. I was happy with our new room location which was on the second floor of the honors dorm I was in. Looking out the window I could see the tennis courts. The weather was beautiful in the 70s. It seemed like it would be a great year.

The first day back the bookstore was open. I still remember my schedule- Pre-calculus, Organic Chemistry, Spanish, and Renaissance History. I remember getting my organic chemistry book. It was huge! It was twice the size of any textbook I had every bought. A set of atoms/molecules also came with it. The organic chemistry supplies alone were $700. I was worried about money because of all my loans and was in the process of signing for another loan. But that was my biggest worry.

The first night back at Silva nothing was out of the ordinary except Jess was crying in the hall because she was in a fight with her boyfriend. I tried helping her. That night I remember I couldn't fall asleep so I was listening to my headphones a lot. I really don't remember what happened after listening to my headphones but I don't think I got more than an hour or so sleep that night.

The first day of school I went to all of my classes I had that day, which I think were Organic Chemistry, Renaissance History, and Spanish. I knew everyone in the Organic Chemistry class because I had been in the same science classes with them the previous year. The chemistry teacher was really nice and he was actually from Maple County where I grew up. He started teaching the material right away but I don't think I was really paying attention. I was writing down the notes but my brain really wasn't processing what was going on. Towards the end of the class I remember him asking random questions from the lesson to different students and I had no idea what they were talking about. I had decided I would catch up later and reread everything. This was unlike me because I was always on top of everything and even if I didn't understand the work right away, I was always following what was being taught. I looked around me and no one really looked that confused or taken back by what he was teaching. They all understood it for the most part while I couldn't really tell you what the chapter was even about. I still have no clue.

Then I went to the Renaissance class. The teacher seemed laid back and it seemed like a very easy, light class. She taught a little bit and I wrote some notes in a notebook. One of my friends from the previous year was in the class and we sat next to each other. The class was in an auditorium. The seats were comfortable. I really thought I would like the class a lot and it would be fun compared to my serious classes. That was the last time I would go to that class.

I then had lunch that day in the cafeteria. I remember I didn't feel quite right like something felt off but I thought I was just overwhelmed with everything. I sat with my friend Maria and some of her friends. I must have gotten a sandwich or salad but I don't really remember eating it or not. Silva has a lot of good food and even when I wasn't very hungry I would always get something or other.

Then I remember going to the Spanish class and we went into the computer lab to work on verbs. I was a pro at verbs. I got 100s almost on everything in freshman year Spanish and it came so easy to me. This year I had a different professor but we still picked up on where freshman Spanish had ended the previous year. The first or second class the professor I currently had brought us to the computer lab. I remember I sat at the computer in the back of the room on the left and the teacher set up a website for us to practice verbs. It required entering the forms of the verbs that would pop up on the screen, which I had done many times before. It wasn't even a test or anything - just something to do for the class. No big deal...It actually was a big deal. I looked at the computer screen and didn't recognize anything! I tried really hard to type in the verb forms. Some I did get right. But I felt lost. The teacher came over and watched how I was doing and was suggesting to me how I could get better at it and what I should study. I remember thinking "What?" No teacher had ever thought I needed any extra help or was unsure of the material. I wanted to say "No I know all this - it's easy - I did it all last year..."But I couldn't do it. I was so confused. After leaving that class I was so confused that I decided I didn't want to do anything with science anymore. Just like that.

When I went back to the dorm I talked to my mom and said the classes went well and everything was fine. I didn't really realize that something was off...but then later on when I went into a friend's dorm room and they were doing homework, I realized that I had not even started any of mine. I had a chapter in the organic chemistry book, a chapter in Spanish, and a report for the renaissance class. I brought all my books into my friend's room and put them all on the floor as the girls in the room were talking and relaxing. I started opening all my books then closing them. I remember saying "You guys have to help me catch up on all this and learn it all." From the looks on their faces they really didn't know what I meant. I got out some paper and a pencil and opened up to the chemistry questions and couldn't even read them. I brought everything back in my room and started pacing around the room.

I don't know how long I was pacing in the room but I remember walking back and forth and thinking I'm going to be a teacher instead and that will make everything ok. I must have not slept at all that night because in the morning I think I was still in my jeans and a tank top. I'm pretty sure I did change the next morning into something else.

That morning I went to my lab teacher Lara's office to tell her I think I want to be a teacher. She said I'm good at science but I have to do what I think I will like and maybe try talking to people who are education majors and see what they say first. Then she said but that would be hard because all of my friends are science majors. I remember I was crying in her office but I don't really remember why. Everything seemed surreal like a movie. I think I also told her about having to keep getting loans and I was stressed thinking about money. She was nice and suggested talking to education majors.

Later that day I went to the career counselor. I looked at every book in her office waiting room about careers. When I went in I remember crying the entire time. I was there for almost an hour. She was asking me a lot of questions but I don't really remember what they were exactly. I'm not sure if I even discussed being a teacher that much. I remember I left really with no clue about being a teacher. I remember I mentioned to her also that I was worrying about money for some reason.

I don't think I had eaten all day or gone to the dining hall at all. I remember going to the Pre-calculus class in the chapel. The professor had blonde short hair and we did chapter one. I was happy because I got a couple questions right following along in the book. I went up to the professor at the end of the class and said I think I want to be a teacher. And then I said but I don't like talking in front of anyone and she said well I don't think you should be a teacher if you don't like talking in front of anyone.

I guess then I left that class and went back to the dorm. I don't remember eating at all or doing anything else that day. That night it must have been the career counselor who called my cell phone and asked if everything was ok and that she was worried. I told her that everything was fine and all worked out \- that everything is good and thanks for your help. I had no clue what she was talking about but I didn't want her to think anything was wrong.

I must not have slept that night. I really don't remember how much time had passed or exactly on what days I did what. I do remember going back to my lab teacher and saying everything is fine and I'm staying a science major. She said, "That's good then you're staying with science," and I said "Yeah."

I remember I was really upset and called my mom and said I don't feel good. She made an appointment for me with the counselor there at school. I went in the counselor's office and was pretty quiet and must have acted normal. She asked me the names of all my family members and she wrote them all down and asked me what are my hobbies or something like that. Then she said well you are welcome to come back anytime. I said ok - and left.

During that week in general my mind was racing. I had so many thoughts up there – about work, about school, and busy thoughts in general. I kept thinking over and over that I should be in classes. I couldn't focus and everything was blurry and distorted.

It was that Friday when I realized something was wrong. When Jess came in that evening I completely lost it. I said I didn't go to any classes and I haven't slept and I don't feel good and I want to go home. I want to go to the hospital. She was with our other two friends, Dan and Anna. Jess said we can't take you to the hospital - they will keep you there. I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about, that they would keep me there.

My friend Dan said I'll drive you home right now and I think they called my mom to tell her they were driving me home. Jess frantically packed a bag for me with some clothes and movies and things she thought I might need. We then left Silva.

Jess and my other friend went with Dan to drive me home. I had no idea what was going on. I remember we stopped at a fast food restaurant and I got a small fries.

When we got home, my mom and my mom's boyfriend, my dad, my sister, and Brian were in the living room. They were all confused when we all came in as to what was going on with me. Then my friends went back to school. I spent time with my mom downstairs. I was just sitting in the chair in the living room staring into space. I was scared because I didn't know what was wrong with me. I think I slept with my mom in her bed, but I don't think I actually slept.

Lots of my friends were calling me from Silva and they meant well but I kept getting upset. They were encouraging me to not miss any labs as it would affect my grades the entire semester. I wanted to go back even more and catch up on the labs I would be missing. My sister came into my room with Brian's friend's number and had said I could call him and he wouldn't mind taking me back, but my mom said it wouldn't be a good idea to go back.

I remember my mind was racing and racing 100mph. It was songs and my own thoughts about everything – school, friends, shows, my thoughts, everything just racing around. I also felt restless like I couldn't just sit in one place – I had to be moving around.

The next day we ended up at my mom's primary doctor's office, Dr. Lino. I remember I couldn't sit in the waiting room. I kept walking all around. At one point my mom and I were looking out the windows, talking about the color of the cars in the parking lot. When I went into the examining room, the doctor came in and examined me and I didn't really say much and he told my mom I should go to the crisis center at Cedar Bridge Medical Center, a hospital about twenty minutes from Starbrooke.

When I got to the crisis center I remember a man kept asking me all these questions and I didn't know why. He must have been a psychiatrist. I just answered them normal like I go to college and I take classes and I'm tired. I guess he thought I was sick because I slept over-night there. It was the best sleep I ever had. They must have given me some meds. I slept so good and so deep. I remember looking out my room window into the hall and seeing nurses and doctors but not even caring where I was - I just wanted to sleep.

My dad and my uncle visited me the next day. They had said that I did not really say that much and just said things like I am doing ok. I was eating dinner when they got there. Then this lady came into my room and said, "There is somewhere you could go to get better and feel better and you just have to sign this paper." I said "OK." And I signed the paper. I don't remember even reading it over but it sounded good what she had said- a place to feel better. I pictured I would be moved to another hallway or section of Cedar Bridge. Then within minutes I was in an ambulance going to Maple University Medical Center in the Laurette Pavilion, a locked voluntary psych unit. In order to go there, you had to sign that paper I had signed. Some people were committed by court order for alcohol or drug use, but in my case I signed myself in.
Chapter 3: First Hospitalization

Maple University Medical Center is a trauma hospital, about a half hour from my hometown of Starbrooke. The Laurette Pavilion is part of Maple. It is a voluntary psychiatric ward, which means you can only go there if you sign yourself in to get help, except for some court-ordered patients. There is a Laurette 1 and a Laurette 2, each on a floor of the building. It is on the small side. There must be about twelve rooms or so, each with two beds. It is a short term facility expecting that most patients' average stay is a couple of days. Of course, if serious enough, a patient can be transferred to a more long-term facility.

I was at Laurette Pavilion for as long as my insurance paid- almost the entire month of September 2004. It felt like I was there for years. I wanted to go home every single day and each day I had to wait felt even longer than the one before. I was there for so long because the doctors were trying to find out what was wrong with me along with finding the right medications. It was frustrating for me to see patients, who had actual suicide attempts, come in for a day or two and then leave. I was there for almost a month for what would later be confirmed as a manic episode of Bipolar I disorder.

I do remember lots of things from Maple as if they were yesterday. I can still remember how I had felt there. Other things I remember in a more general sense of what everything seemed like to me. There are even things that I don't remember being present for that my parents would tell about later on after I was discharged.

I was not aware at all what time it was when I had arrived at Laurette Pavilion of Maple. I still do not remember if it was in the morning or at night. I don't remember much about the first day there- it was all kind of blurry. What I do remember is that when I arrived I was wearing long jeans and a black halter top that had a small string that tied around my neck. Immediately the nurse or the aide there said I couldn't have that and would have to take that off right away. I remember thinking, "Why can't I have that? Why can't I have a string?" I had no idea what was going on. I was very naïve to mental health because I had never experienced it before.

I still thought I was exactly where the lady at Cedar Bridge Crisis Center said I would be- "A place to make me feel better and get better." I pictured myself getting some sleep and some fluids and food in me and leaving that day or the next day and then going back to Silva. I was completely wrong.

When the nurse who checked me in showed me my room, it was the very first one on the left. My bed was the one on the left and there was a shower in the room near the door. There were two small desks, with about three drawers to them, in front of each bed. And a small closet for storing clothes. Throughout my stay there, my parents would bring some clothes of mine to put in the closet that I would wear during my hospital stay – sweatpants, t-shirts and sweaters. At times throughout my stay I had roommates and at times I did not. I do not remember if there was a roommate in there with me the very first night, but some nights I did have roommates.

It must have been the first night I was there when the nurse suggested I should go into the meeting taking place in the room in the middle of the unit with windows that you could see through. The entire unit was shaped like a square. It was on the small side and the eating area and space where visitors could come were all towards the front near the locked door. The meeting room was next to where all the couches were in the main area.

When I went into the meeting there was a male nurse talking to patients. There were two male nurses at Laurette, both who were very nice. I sat down at the table. There must have been about five or six patients sitting around the table. The male nurse was saying things like "That's why it's important to take your meds," and all the patients were saying "Yeah that's true." It all felt weird. I felt out of place. I almost felt like I should be the guy explaining about meds and what they did since I was thinking about studying pharmacy. I still did not make the connection that I was a psychiatric patient. I still had no idea.

I must have realized a few hours later- all the talking about meds- that my mom had called and I remember saying to this day "I'm in a PSYCH ward!" I was panicked. The only time I saw a psych ward was in the movie "One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest," which was junior year of high school. I was just thinking that I had to just go home and get back to school. Missing labs and tests was still on my mind and I felt trapped and that I didn't belong there.

After I told my mom I was in a psych ward she said "No, you're not- you're not in any psych ward." I still doubted what she had said. I knew something was off. I didn't understand what was going on or what was wrong with me.

That night was the first time they had given me meds. I had never before swallowed a pill until then. I always had to take the liquid form of medicine or the chewable form. The male nurse who had run the meeting came in and said to take the pills; I just swallowed them, somehow. They weren't enormous like vitamins are. And I think because he was a nurse I knew that if I choked he could help. I don't remember what I thought about the meds in particular but I can remember how I physically swallowed them down so easily after so many years of being afraid to. It never occurred to me to even say anything like "No I don't take medicine," or "I'm not taking those because I really didn't know where I am or what is wrong with me,"- so I just kind of gave in to my surroundings.

The next day when I woke up there were three doctors standing by my bed staring at me. One was Dr. Johnson, who was the main psychiatrist there. The other two were Dr. Verma, who had short black hair to her shoulders, and Dr. Chen, who usually pulled her hair back into a low ponytail. These doctors were usually there with Dr. Johnson.

The doctors asked me questions like "What day is it?" and "Who is the president?" I was so tired I remember thinking I hope I get the right answer! I knew the year obviously - 2004 but I was not sure of the day. I was trying to go back and think what day the semester started and how many days it had been since I was home. I think I just guessed the date. They didn't seem upset so it must have been the correct day. Now that I am more mature, looking back it seems like they would be more concerned that a patient would know what year and month it was than the actual day. Even when I'm healthy, sometimes I have to check on my cell phone or ask someone "What day is it again?" Most people do that often.

It was the last question that had scared me. Dr. Johnson asked me, "Melany, are you hearing voices?" I was shocked. I said no but the way they were looking at me made it seem to me that they did not believe me. To this day I know that the entire time I was in Maple the only voices I heard were of the patients, nurses, doctors, and my family. I am 100% sure. I completely agree that I had been manic and following the mania I was depressed there as well but I did not hear voices. I have never had visual or auditory hallucinations. However, I _have_ had delusions (believing things that are not true) when in the height of mania, which last for about a week until I come out of the episode. I also have had racing thoughts (various thoughts in your brain going quickly around all at once).

I did experience psychosis in Maple (not in any comparison to the psychosis I would experience when manic only a couple years later). Psychosis is to believe things or see things that are not real. I believed that I was in a huge building with many floors. I would look outside from the second floor and would feel like I was looking down from a huge building, almost like a skyscraper. Also, I believe it was August of 2004, I saw on the news that there was a college student who pretended that she died and she really had run away. Being that I could not contact any of my friends from school- only my immediate family, I believed that everyone at Silva was wondering where I was and psychotically linked myself to the girl I had seen on TV. I thought my friends from school had no idea where I was when in reality my mom was contacting and calling people constantly trying to tell them what she could. I thought that everyone at Silva was trying to find me.

My dad later told me that the second day there my uncle came to visit me but I was just sleeping in the room and they could not get me up to come out. The nurse had told them I didn't want to come out of the room.

My sister was actually away with Brian in Canada for a trip for his soccer tournament when I was admitted. She wanted to know how I was every day and what was going on. Brian was also very concerned that I was sick and hoped I would get better as soon as possible. My sister and my mom would talk constantly about how I was doing. Tiffany was very concerned about everything that was happening. And it was hard because no one knew at the beginning exactly what was going on with me. It was puzzling.

My mom actually had a back spasm when I was starting to get sick. She ended up having the entire month off from work while I was in the hospital. That made it easier for her to let everyone know what was going on. I think my getting sick caused my mom's back spasm because she was so emotional at the time with me coming home from college and not knowing what was wrong with me.

It must have been the second day when I had asked Dr. Johnson what was wrong with me. She said she would let me know. The next day when I woke up I saw some papers on the desk in my room. They were printed out papers from a computer. I picked it up and the first word I saw was "schizophrenia." The papers described what schizophrenia was – paranoia, hearing voices, flat affect, experiencing visual hallucinations... I could not believe it. I was actually scared for my life and terrified- completely terrified that anyone could ever think that I could have this. It was one of the most terrifying moments of my life. Now, today if someone suggested I had schizophrenia it would not be as bad because being aware of mental health I do not see that as a terrifying disease anymore - it is just another type of mental illness that many people experience. I do not think that people with schizophrenia are "crazy" – it is just another mental health disorder they are struggling with.

In all the later manic episodes after 2004 I was very psychotic in each one. My behavior was similar to that of a schizophrenic. Schizophrenia is a mental illness, just as debilitating as bipolar disorder. Symptoms of schizophrenia include hearing voices and other things that are not there, flat affect, and paranoia. Having paranoia and visual/auditory hallucinations (seeing or hearing things that are not real) as well as delusions (believing something to be true that isn't) are considered psychotic behavior (loss of reality).

But my behavior only resembles schizophrenia in the heights of mania. Then the psychosis goes away completely when I recover from the episode. Also, the psychosis I have from mania is mostly in the form of delusions such as thinking I am a doctor or someone I am not to believing I am dead. I have never experienced auditory or visual hallucinations – just severe racing thoughts and paranoia.

After reading the schizophrenia papers, I remember getting really upset. I even told my mom I had schizophrenia. And she said "no you don't have that." All of a sudden those papers about schizophrenia were no longer in my room and Dr. Johnson told me she had never said I had schizophrenia. I'm guessing because she realized how upset it got me that if I kept thinking I had schizophrenia or dwelling on being sick I would have never gotten better.

I remember reading the wristlet thing on my wrist around that same time and it said "anxiety and depression." That was comforting. It was realistic and no big deal to me. I liked looking at my wrist and seeing the diagnosis of anxiety and depression – especially compared to seeing something serious like schizophrenia. If I had seen the same papers with a diagnosis of "bipolar," I'm not sure how I would have reacted because I don't think back then I even knew what bipolar was.

My parents visited me every possible time they could. My sister came often as well. Visiting hours were very strict. They were only from six to seven on weeknights. They also had visiting hours in the afternoon and evenings on the weekends. I remember my family visiting me all the time. There was not a day that went by that I did not see my parents. When I became more aware in the last two weeks, I would stand near the locked door and just look at the clock waiting for them to get off the elevator and come near the door.

There was a lady named Maria who would always carry charts and would stand there and not let any visitors in until it was exactly 6:00PM. She would say "It's only 5:58." My dad would later nickname her "the chart lady." I remember standing there and couldn't wait another second to just hug my mom watching my parents through the thick glass.

My parents visited me every night. When they first came I would say things like "I'm going to go to jail" and lots of things that made no sense. I thought I was in a jail by the third day or so because I was still there. I was ready to go home. Some nights when my parents visited I would sit with them, next to them, and some nights I was in a pacing mood where I could not stay in one spot. My parents just kept saying things like: I just have to get better and feel good and of course I am coming home. One time my dad had brought me an iced smoothie and I just drank it in about a minute and then I said I was cold. I would hate when it was time for them to leave.

My mom told me later on about the meeting she, my dad, and my sister had with the doctors and case manager one night very soon after I was admitted. I do vaguely remember being in a room in the back hall way near the windows to the parking lot. There were a few doctors, Nancy the social worker, my parents and my sister. My mom said that during that entire meeting (after I had been upset and crying and confused as to why I was in there) I kept walking around and around the unit and running into the room and hugging my mom and then running out again and walking around in circles again.

My mom later told me that at that meeting the doctors asked my family a lot of questions about me, about my childhood, about high school and college. My parents just kept telling them that I go to Silva, a really good college, and I'm a biology major and I get good grades. They said how I ran cross-country in high school, I have many friends, and two weeks prior I was fine and was getting ready to go back to college. My mom explained that the doctors said they still had to evaluate me a lot further before they knew exactly what was going on. They did not mention any possible diagnoses to my family- they simply said that they needed to evaluate me further.

The doctors did ask about past history of mental illness in my family. My parents said that there was anxiety and depression on both sides.

Dr. Verma would call my mom every morning and tell her what was going on such as how I was doing and what meds they were trying. Even so, my mom has said that she felt like she was almost excluded from my treatment. They did not tell her much and she felt like she was a criminal when she visited because of how strict the visiting hours were.

I remember there was one day I felt so low and was crying and I wanted to go home. My mom kept saying they are finding the right meds and I will be home real soon. She brought me these really comfy sweatpants for me that I had really liked from home. And we were bringing them to my room when a nurse had yelled that she couldn't give those to me and had to take them home. And my mom had said "Why?" And the nurse said, "Because those have strings in them and she cannot have strings." So my mom frantically pulled the strings out - at least I got to wear them that night because they were a comfort.

Apparently, I needed to have a "one-on-one." I realize now that it must have been because I really could not take care of myself completely. I would just lay there a lot. I wouldn't want to take a shower because it felt weird there and I wanted to take a shower at home or at Silva dorms.

So there was often a one-on-one who would help me get ready. The one-on-ones would also help me eat. They would sit with me in the dining room making me feel more comfortable and talk to me a lot. They would say, "Wow that looks good," when I got chicken fingers and fries every day. In the beginning, apparently I was supposed to be filling out what I wanted for the next meal on these little slips but I didn't know what they were. Then when the aide would say fill it out, I think I would just circle everything on the entire card. I think one time I did get so much food and I didn't eat any of it because I wasn't eating at that point. After a week or so, they knew I only liked chicken fingers and fries so I would get that every day. And I would eat again. That probably worked to make me better as well.

I had a male one-on-one that I remember well. When he was with me he asked what I was here for and I said depression and anxiety. But I must have had tons of energy because I kept walking around and around and going into my room and going back out and laughing. He had to keep following me around and he kept laughing saying "You don't seem depressed?" He must have been exhausted. Also, I realized that I must have also had a one-on-one throughout the night because one night I woke up late and there was a one-on-one with a flashlight doing his homework. At one point, I was not sure if he was real or not - but he was, as some work night shifts as well.

One time, one of the one-on-ones told my parents that I was eating my jewelry. I do remember trying to put my ring in my mouth and bite it. However, I was on strong medications and it might have been a bad reaction to a med. Or, just of how stressed out I was feeling.

The doctor called my mom one morning and said they wanted to take an MRI of my brain to rule out any physical causes. I remember being wheeled out of the unit and down the halls to the MRI machine. There were lots of people walking down the halls- doctors, nurses and visitors. I just remember being wheeled so fast it was all a blur. A small lady, who at the time was my "one-on-one," brought me to the MRI room and sat near the door. I had left the room and she did not see me walk out. After a few moments, she realized this and came and got me to go back.

The tech in the MRI was nice. However, she had me lay down and started sending me into the closed MRI. I don't know if she realized that I was from psychiatric ward. I got so frightened that I started kicking the machine and she had to get me out right away. After that, she gave me a panic button, which I could press if I needed to get out. She said I wouldn't be in there long and if I felt scared I should press the button and get out. I remember just staring up at the machine and trying to stay calm. I think I had asked the doctors later what was wrong with my brain. I really wanted an answer.

I would have preferred at the time that someone would say this is what is wrong and it is physical. However, the MRI of my brain came back completely normal. Therefore this definitely was a mental illness. Now they would have to keep me to further evaluate what meds would work. They did determine not too long after the meeting with my parents that this was some kind of manic episode. They did not have a lot of answers because I had a healthy past and this was the very first time anything like this had ever happened. They had to start from square one. That is why I now understand why I was there longer than people who had attempted suicide were there. I was there a month while they were there only a couple of days. It was because those patients already had a diagnosis while in my case they were still putting together the pieces of the puzzle.

### Chapter 4: I Want to go Home

It seemed that the longer I was there in hospital the more disoriented I became. I didn't want to go to any of the meetings. I would not go. I went to one meeting and made a flower out of foam. But I think I walked out about four or five times and I needed a lot of help to make the flower. I couldn't really focus on anything. I couldn't make sense if I was manic or if I was anxious or if I was depressed. I couldn't sit and listen to an aide talk about symptoms of depression because my one preoccupation was going home. That was the one and only thing on my mind. I was just thinking and saying I want to go home. The doctors came every morning and I would just start saying, "I want to go home." I was not healthy enough or mature enough to go to meetings and think oh ok this is a manic episode, these are my symptoms and these are my coping mechanisms. I just wanted to go home. I couldn't even go into the meeting and put together a little foam flower.

I also did not feel like eating a lot there. I did not really eat that much in their dining room. When my parents came they would bring me my favorite fast food and I would eat that. I remember getting those nutrition shakes because I must have not been eating that well.

A few people outside my immediate family visited. On the first day, my mom said that I had written names down of people who could visit me. I wrote down my family and also Kathie, Kerri, and Jen - my best friend from high school, her sister, and mom. I'm sure even if I didn't write the name down they could still come and visit. Kathie, Kerri, and Jen came the first weekend. I wasn't really acting right but they completely understood that I was sick. They had gotten me a stuffed animal and brought it to my house before I ended up in the hospital. Also, my mom's Aunt Catherine and Cousin Cathy came to visit one night but still I wasn't myself. One day, Jen came with Jess, another friend from high school, when I was doing a little better and we went in the dining room to talk. They seemed genuinely concerned and wanting me to get better.

My parents would always say, "Dr. Johnson called me and she is very excited about trying you on this med and she thinks it is going to work." I was always happy to hear that and hoped it would work however it was supposed to work.

My sister kept up on the medications. She would research each one at home or as my mom was telling her the names of them. Still today, she wonders why they didn't inform me what medications I was taking and why. I remember from what my mom had said one of the ones Dr. Johnson was very excited about was called "Geodon." I don't think I even knew I was on Lithium there. I wouldn't even have known what that was anyway back then. I was just swallowing whatever pills they gave me. I wasn't aware or even curious what they were for. I just wanted to go home.

The other residents were not a problem to me. They all seemed to kind of do their own things. There was one resident named Sue, who was always really nice to me. She was maybe in her forties or fifties. My dad would talk to her a lot when he came. I don't really remember everything I talked to Sue about but I remember we did talk a lot. I ended up seeing Sue volunteering at Maple when I had gone back to visit months later. We even wrote a few letters to each other.

I remember they had an exercise bike in the visiting area. I told the aides that I wanted to go on it and exercise. While I was exercising, I looked around and hoped that the doctors would see me exercising and acting normal like they wanted and say I could go home soon. I felt it showed I wasn't as depressed like when I was just sleeping in the room.

There was also a small music keyboard in the visiting area. I had played piano from when I was ten to twelve years old and I remembered how to play. Even when I was so sick, I still remembered the notes from memory. However, the only song I could remember was Fur Elise by Beethoven, probably because I had played it in a concert and had practiced it so many times. All the other songs I couldn't remember. When my mom brought a book of piano songs, I think I just played Fur Elise instead because it was easier. The patient Sue really like that I played the piano. Whenever my parents would visit I would usually play it. I think one time the nurses even started clapping. I didn't play it perfect but it wasn't bad.

I still didn't really understand why I wasn't going home. It felt like forever. Everyone would tell me that I was going home soon but it still wasn't happening. It was exhausting.

The doctors were starting to suggest ECT to my parents. ECT stands for electroconvulsive therapy. It is mostly used for depression to "shock" the brain. It requires anesthesia and two electrodes are placed on your head and a small shock is sent to your brain causing you to have seizures. I don't look down upon people who choose this treatment, but I think months and even years should be spent trying medications, exercising, or psychotherapy before you choose this option.

My mom called the doctor I went to when I was little and having the seizures and she told my mom that if she disagrees with anything the hospital is doing or suggesting that she has the right to take me out. My sister told my Aunt Barbara that they wanted to do ECT on me. My aunt had said absolutely not- do not let them.

My friend Christine from high school found out from my mom that they wanted to do ECT. She was about to get on a plane and fly home from Brooke City to go to Maple and talk to the doctors. She was shocked and extremely angry. She was saying you can't give someone a different medicine every day and not allow time for it to work and then say you want to do ECT. Everyone seemed to have the same negative opinion of ECT.

The worst part of it was that I was not suicidal at all. I couldn't wait to jump back into my life and get back to school and see my pets, my room, and go running. Thankfully, it was not done -because it would have been done for all the wrong reasons.

My mom told me later that the night before they were going to do the ECT, the lady my dad called the "chart lady" kept running around after them with papers saying they needed to sign it and that I needed that. My sister brought me into the kitchen area practically crying saying, "They want to do ECT to you."

I was in disbelief. I didn't even think they did that anymore. I could not even breathe – I felt suffocated like I was gasping for air. My sister gave me two quarters so I could call her later but I think I lost them. I just wanted to go home. I didn't understand what all the fuss was about. I wanted to go home and sleep and see my cat and dog and try and catch up on the work I was missing at Silva. And here these people are talking about ECT? I know I must have been sick at the time but whoever came up with that idea was completely wrong. 100% wrong.

My parents did not sign the papers for the chart lady and just left. The next day the doctor called my mom and said they are not doing it because a medicine seems to be working.

One night, Dr. Weber, a psychologist, came to visit me during rounds. Dr. Weber sat down on the bed across from me and he was very easy to talk to. He was very friendly and easy-going. He asked me what my favorite songs were. I remember him asking "What's wrong- you don't like the food here- well me neither!" He just was very genuinely nice. That same night he called my mom and said I am going through an episode but he is sure I will be fine and functioning normal again. He said I was intelligent and could go back to school. I will always remember that visit and how much he encouraged me. We had later tried to set up an appointment with him for therapy but his waiting list was six months.

My mom brought in a photo album to look at- it had a couple pictures from college and from that summer when my mom, her boyfriend, and I went to NYC. I kept looking at the album for comfort. I remember I showed Sue and other patients. One patient had said "Wow I can't believe how glamorous you were!"

Towards the end of my time at Laurette, we started playing games at night with the chart lady - my parents told me later. I did not really remember this but they said she included all the patients and their families for games. They said I kept winning at the games.

At one point, the doctors explained what bipolar disorder is to my parents. They said that it is a mood disorder with depression and mania and times of normalcy in between. They explained that Lithium is the best drug to manage bipolar disorder. They informed my family that a manic episode is one where the person with bipolar disorder may not sleep for days, have racing thoughts, have behaviors such as pacing back and forth, and become euphoric or have delusions of grandeur.

I had racing thoughts before the hospital and sometimes in the hospital but definitely the most right before being hospitalized. It felt like I was thinking a million thoughts in my head and they were all racing around and just making no sense. I felt restless like I just wanted to keep walking around because of all the racing thoughts.

Delusions of grandeur are when you think you are someone that you are not or you think you have special powers. I would have that in later episodes.

My family learned that my symptoms such as walking back and forth, racing thoughts, speaking quickly – were all part of mania. Depression is the opposite for me. I rarely talk when depressed. I am slowed down and sleep a lot with no plans.

Depression is the exact opposite of mania where you sleep more and it takes energy to get out of bed. You feel hopeless, sad, and cry for no reason. I would later learn that one in every four patients with bipolar disorder end up committing suicide.

In the hospital I was not aware I had bipolar disorder until I was discharged and began treatment at the Turning Key Recovery Center, an intensive outpatient therapy program.

The doctors told my mom that Bipolar I, what I was diagnosed with, is more serious than Bipolar II because it takes you into psychosis such as paranoia and delusions of grandeur.

Before I was discharged, the case manager, Nancy, set up a meeting with my family and me. I remember Nancy asking "What do you want more of from each family member?" I had no clue what to say so I looked at my dad and said, "More support." Then I felt bad because they were all giving me so much support already. I just stayed kind of quiet for most of the remainder of the meeting.

Nancy told me that there was an outpatient program in a place called the Turning Key Recovery Center that I could go to. She asked my family questions relating to how they would care for me when I left the hospital.

The day I went home I couldn't believe it. Dr. Johnson said, "Melany you are going home today." I wanted to hug her! I could not believe it. I was so happy. I wanted to jump up and down.

The final diagnosis was Bipolar I disorder and I was sent home with Lithium, Lamictal, Zyprexa and Paxil. Lithium and Lamictal are mood stabilizers, Zyprexa is an anti-psychotic and Paxil is an anti-depressant. Medications such as these are crucial in treating bipolar disorder, at least in my case.

I would continue with Lithium, Lamictal and Zyprexa on and off for the next eight years. There would be different amounts of the drugs and different times I was on and off Zyprexa, but for the most part these are the drugs that work for me.

Before leaving Maple, the appointment was set up for the Turning Key Recovery Center, that I would go to a couple days later for outpatient therapy three times a week, thereafter.

### Chapter 5: A New Start

The moment Dr. Johnson told me I could go home that day, I called my mom. My mom said, "Are you sure - really?" And I was like "Yes!" At that moment she was with her boyfriend, who is now deceased, and he said "Let's go right now - hurry up before they change their minds." So my mom came to get me and I remember it was so weird walking in the halls of the hospital, realizing where I had been was just a very small part of this huge trauma hospital - realizing that everyone around me was so busy with their daily lives. Even taking my first breath of outside air was amazing- I hadn't been outside in weeks. Everything felt like I was experiencing it for the first time- being outside, the car ride, being in a store- it felt like being in a different world. The meds made me feel weird and they still had to be adjusted and lowered.

The first place we went was to a pharmacy to get my medicines. There were so many medicines. I was almost scared that I would have to go back to the hospital because it seemed so unreal that I was going home. I felt like I had just gotten out of a movie.

After picking up the medications, we went to a vegetable store and got some food. I must have acted really crazy because the girl at the cashier was going really fast putting all the groceries in the bags. She looked nervous. I remember telling her, "I just got out of the hospital." I felt like I looked completely crazy.

When we first pulled into our driveway, I felt like I was on too many medicines and I still wasn't really aware of my surroundings. We had just purchased ice cream sandwiches at the store and I started eating the ice cream sandwiches we had gotten from the store as fast as I could so the medicines wouldn't be so strong. My mom said, "Oh no you will start gaining weight." I think I had eaten three ice-cream sandwiches within two minutes or so.

The first night back I remember making mashed potatoes with my mom. It felt great that I could do something again. Everything was just simple and new. I was not happy that I had gotten sick but I was so happy to be home - I had not been that happy in that way ever. The first week or two at home I would go to sleep around 6PM after taking the meds. I would wake up really early every morning because I was going to sleep so early.

When I got home, my mom had some books of famous people who have bipolar disorder. Many of them were actors, actresses and writers. A few years later when I went with my mom to one of her doctor appointments, we told her doctor I had bipolar disorder, his response was, "Well you are in very good company." Hearing that made me feel better - like having bipolar disorder wasn't completely a bad thing.

When I got home I was still very restless. I would sit down somewhere and then get back up again and go sit somewhere else. I could not sit still for more than a couple minutes – I had to be walking or doing something. That feeling lasted a couple days and then gradually went away as I became more stable. Every day I felt a little less restless than the day before.

Home was comforting. My dad still lived with us from when he moved back in 1997 when my Nan died. My mom and dad lived downstairs and my sister, Brian and I lived upstairs. Everyone was as supportive as possible and home was a good environment for me. I was so happy to be out of the hospital and home again in my own kitchen and room.

Seeing my pets again was important as well. At that time we had Dusty, a small brown mutt, and Crystal, a brown Persian cat. Since I was home, I spent a lot of time with them. They were comforting and made me feel better and calm.

I began telling everyone that I had bipolar disorder- even strangers. I was learning so much about it and it had all just happened that I would tell people and not hold back. A couple days after I got out of Maple, my dad and I went to a park where I had run a lot of cross-country meets at, and brought lunch. On the way, we stopped at a bank and I told the lady there that I have bipolar disorder and my dad and I were telling her that I used to run cross-country. No one was judgmental.

With the idea in mind that if I looked my best it might help me from being admitted again, I went for a manicure and a haircut before starting therapy sessions at Turning Key Recovery Center.

I got my hair cut to about my shoulders because I could not take care of long hair. When I got my nails done I remember my hands were shaking so much that the nail manicurist kept saying "Wow what happened bad break-up?" I didn't say anything.

My sister and I went through my entire room and made it over. We went through all my clothes in my closet. My sister helped me just pick out some clothes like jeans and sweaters to wear every day.

I would not wear contacts again until well into November. My hands were shaking so much I would not be able to put them in and my mom was afraid I might not know when they were in and when they weren't and fall asleep with them in. Therefore, I wore my glasses. I had not worn glasses since around 5th grade – only contacts.

I started eating a lot. I was always hungry. It was more like starving. I felt like I could eat an entire pizza and still feel hungry. I gained about 30 lbs within three weeks. I was eating the same foods but a lot more of them. When I was in high school and went out to eat I would eat about half the meal and usually take some home. But, now I was going out a lot to eat with my sister and I would eat everything- appetizers, the meal, and dessert. I just was so hungry.

After my first weekend home, I started the Turning Key Recovery Center outpatient therapy program, which was set up by Nancy at Maple. Turning Key Recovery Center is a place for people struggling with mental illness to go there to get better, learn coping skills, and recover as best they can. They do have an inpatient part of the hospital as well as the outpatient programs. They have therapy such as art therapy and different groups focusing on topics such as perfectionism and assertiveness. They have two main psychiatrists there. They have a nice cafeteria as well as an area to relax in between sessions.

The Turning Key Recovery Center would be a great life-changing experience. It was like a breath of fresh air that I hadn't had since Silva. My first day was in the beginning of October 2004. I was so nervous about going. I didn't know what to expect or what you were supposed to do. I brought a huge binder my sister made with diagnoses and medication research. It made me feel guarded to have that. I still felt paranoid about going back into a hospital. I wanted to always stay at home if I ever got sick again. I wanted to show Turning Key Recovery Center that I was well enough to stay home and that home was a healthy environment for me.

The ride to the Turning Key Recovery Center was about an hour and a half. The route was very scenic. When we got to Turning Key Recovery Center, it wasn't as big as I had thought. I had pictured it looking as more of a hospital. It looked like a typical outpatient therapy center. I met with a counselor who told me information about the program, like which groups I would be in, how lunch was included, and how I would be assigned a therapist and a psychiatrist there. I showed her the binder Tiffany had made and kept flipping through it saying this is what I have and I take these medicines so I can be at home and the counselor said something like "Well I just want to tell you about what you will gain from us and this is your time, your therapy." By the end of the first day, I knew they weren't going to put me back in a hospital.

The first day was when I met one of the greatest psychiatrists I've ever known- Dr. Sharma. I only went to her for a short while but her belief in me has remained with me all these years. I went into her office with my mom. She introduced herself and had a lot of paperwork and seemed very organized. I can't explain it but I just trusted her right away. She noticed right away how my hands were shaking and she looked alarmed. She wanted a Lithium level blood test right away so she could check the levels. She seemed on top of everything.

I remember sitting there so afraid that she would put me back in a hospital. I had a nice outfit on, my hair combed, my nails done, and was trying to act as normal as possible and answer all her questions in a normal way. Looking back now, I see that it would be her intention to always keep me out of a hospital and enable me to live as normal a life as possible. I could always just feel that she believed in me. She was a great psychiatrist.

The next visit up to the Turning Key Recovery Center was two days later. I went Monday, Wednesday and Friday. When I found where to go, my dad and I walked in. We found a room with people talking in it and assumed that was the right room. A therapist named Kim, who would be my case manager, welcomed me to the room.

There must have been about twelve people in the room and Kim sat in the middle. At first I just listened. I had never been to anything like this before. It seemed the issues they were dealing with varied widely- some seemed to be victims of abuse, some had depression, some had bipolar disorder...it varied. As time went on I began talking more in the group.

The day did feel very long because there would be a group from 9 to 11 or so in the building across the street and then we would walk to the main building. Then we would have another group with a topic such as "perfectionism" or "letting go" for an hour. We would have lunch which was included in the program, then a couple minutes to relax. Then in the afternoon we would have more specific groups and art therapy. During the afternoon, everyone would see their doctor at different times.

The group in the morning was harder for me because I really didn't have a lot to say. We would start by checking in on our feelings. I would say how I was feeling (they would have pictures to choose from with faces such as happy, sad, worried, and so on). I mostly always said hopeful or content – there weren't any particularly hard days when I was at Turning Key Recovery Center – there was so much to learn and ways to get better there.

In the groups, I talked about how I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and just simple things about me. I really did not have a big history with the illness and I still didn't really understand it back then. I listened to what everyone had to say but I never thought I could come up with a good enough comment or question for them so I basically just listened.

I got to know the other patients in my program. They were all nice and they were all trying to cope with something. They understood what it feels like to struggle with something. We would go to lunch together at the program and talk. A couple of them met my parents. They did give me a lot of good advice when I did talk in the meetings. They would say how nice my art work came out in the art therapy group. They were very supportive and I never felt afraid to say anything in front of them.

In an art therapy group we made a gigantic drawing where we all added drawings to it. The art therapist put a huge sheet of paper on a table and we just drew positive things on it. We added glitter and paint. It came out beautiful and it felt like team work. We were a team who were all going through problems and supporting each other. No one looked down upon or judged anyone. It was such a healthy environment there.

I loved the more specific groups because they would give you papers about a certain topic and you could fill them out about yourself and share if you wanted to. I spoke more in these groups because it was on a certain topic. The therapists never got mad or anything if you didn't talk a lot but they just didn't like it if you fell asleep- which people probably didn't do because they were bored but rather because of medication that made you tired.

I particularly liked art therapy. The art therapist would come in with lots of materials and very creative ideas relating to wellness. I still have all of the artwork from Turning Key Recovery Center today. Most of the drawings I made were pictures of my family, things that made me happy, and certain drawings related to a topic such as "what sadness or anger feels like to you."

I would show my dad everything I made on the way home and talk about my day. I think the reason I did so well at the Turning Key Recovery Center was because I was an outpatient. If I was an inpatient I would only be concerned about going home.

While going to Turning Key Recovery Center, my life was very good. I was very happy and comfortable. It still almost seemed a little like a movie – going from a typical college student to all that I had been through with the hospital stay and now going to Turning Key Recovery Center. It was a lot to take in and process. I did contact my roommate Jess, from Silva, and my sister and Brian drove me up to Silva so I could get all of my belongings. Jess had packed up a lot of my stuff for me. I even saw Dan, the guy who had driven me home, and he helped bring all of my things to the car.

When I went back to Silva to get my things, I felt sad but also relieved because I compared myself now to how I was those few weeks ago. Thinking of that first week of classes and how horrible it had been for me because of my manic episode- now I was here again but healthy and in control even with a diagnosis of bipolar disorder. From my experience the previous couple weeks, I learned way more than I could have here or in any college in that time in class. I felt so mature.

It wasn't necessarily a sad feeling bringing home my things from Silva. I was just so strong from the Turning Key Recovery Center and I felt that life is short and there is so much more to look forward to. I was thinking about maybe returning to Silva in January but later had decided against it because I didn't want to be too far from home. Silva was about two and a half hours away. If I got sick again, I would have to come all the way home again.

My friends from high school and my neighbor friends really were there for me. My best friend Jen, from school, and Jess came often and we would go to the mall and out to eat. My neighbor Cathy came over a lot and even went trick-or-treating with me because I just wanted to go.

My sister took me out when she was going places on days I wasn't at Turning Key Recovery Center. Also, on days I wasn't at Turning Key Recovery Center I went to my neighbor Kim's, across the street from us. She has two young children and I would go over and we would make lunch and go to the park. I would bring my binder from Turning Key Recovery Center and draw. I was fortunate to have Kim living across the street because she was always a help when I would get sick.

My dad and I went to watch a cross-country meet. We watched the varsity and junior varsity races and I got to say hi to Mr. Sanders, my cross-country coach from high school. It was a beautiful day. I just was so "in the moment" in the fall of 2004. I wasn't living in the past or the future- just the present.

I had so much going on that the happy times I was having balanced out any disappointing feelings I would have that I wasn't at Silva excelling in my biology and chemistry classes preparing to be a pharmacist. Instead, I was learning more about my own self that I never knew - about having bipolar disorder and also about finding excellent ways to cope. I was grateful for everyone in my life, from the one-on-one at the hospital who had walked around the unit with me to Dr. Sharma, one of the best psychiatrists I've ever known to my pets, whose presence is just plain comforting.

I also began listening to music a lot. I always liked music – mostly pop music. I like songs that have deep and meaningful lyrics. Still today, I listen to music often. It is very therapeutic. I can listen to music in any mood – sadness, anxiety, hopefulness, or happiness. Sometimes I listen to the same song over and over. Music is just so therapeutic to me. It's an outlet for my feelings and it is very calming listening to music.

Around mid-October, I was already thinking about going back to school. I had decided against Silva because it was so far away so I wanted to go somewhere really close where I could come home every weekend. I printed out some information about a couple colleges that were close. I also looked at their programs. I chose to go to the open house at Stenton because it was only 40 minutes away and it offered speech pathology, which looked like something I wanted to try. I chose speech therapy because, unlike being a teacher, you only have to talk in front of a small group and it has a lot to do with language.

My parents and I drove down to Stenton for an open house in October. I saw the campus and met professors- all the typical things you do at an open house. The campus was beautiful – trees, beautiful buildings, apartments and a lake. We went into the speech clinic and met Dr. Samuel, the program director. He was really funny and I felt right there like this was for me. I liked Stenton so much that I actually filled out the entire application sitting outside on a bench. I had made my decision to go to Stenton that day. It was a decision that has not gotten me to the specific career I am in today, but a decision I will never regret.

I got better and better each day at Turning Key Recovery Center. When I would go in to see Dr. Sharma, she would always say, "How's my favorite patient?" I showed her everything like little drawings and even my Halloween costume. She was so nice and very intelligent. She made sure my Lithium levels were always right through blood tests. She got my hands to stop shaking completely. I'm not exactly sure how, but she did take me off a med- I think Paxil. She could see that I had a lot of potential and was capable of things – it was this that had meant the most to me.

In November, I had successfully started to wear my contacts again, as my hands were no longer shaking. When I showed up at Turning Key Recovery Center the nurse who would bring us to our appointments with the doctor had said, "Where are your glasses?" I had told her I can put in my contacts again because my hands are not shaking and she was just so happy and she said, "Wow, that's progress." Little things like putting in my contacts were just really big goals and accomplishments for me.

Then it came the time that I graduated from the Turning Key Recovery Center. They had determined that I was ready to move on. On your last day, there is a ceremony where you pick out a stone. Everyone passes around the stone and wishes you luck.

For my ceremony, I picked a brown stone. I kept looking at it for days and I still have it in a safe place. It means a lot to me because it reminds me of a time when I got so strong and healthy. I will always keep it.

### Chapter 6: Next Step

After Turning Key Recovery Center, I had gained so much strength that I decided to work part-time at Ben's department store. It was just for a couple weeks before I would start Stenton in January. I was so used to being in school and being busy, that even doing nothing for just a few weeks seemed a little boring to me.

I told everyone at Turning Key Recovery Center I was going to apply to Ben's to work part time. They all encouraged me and thought I was ready and that it would be a good idea. My mom went with me and I filled out an application. I had an interview and got the job of a cashier. I went for orientation one night with a group of other new employees (it was holiday season). I remember Kim was my supervisor. She was nice and friendly. I explained to her in the beginning that I had bipolar disorder and I might have to leave early for therapist appointments. She said that would be fine.

I was set up with a therapist in Starbrooke recommended by Turning Key Recovery Center – Michelle. I was going to see her about every two weeks long term as well as a psychiatrist, Dr. Nayar, who was associated with Maple, where I had been hospitalized.

I went to see Dr. Nayar right after the Turning Key Recovery Center. His office was across the street from Maple. I would look at the Laurette Pavilion, where I had been, in disbelief. I thought the two-story, small building had been a huge skyscraper. I remember driving past it on the way to my first appointment with Dr. Nayar asking my mom, "That's the Laurette Pavilion?" all surprised. I told her that I had thought I was in a huge skyscraper when I was a patient there.

When I went into Dr. Nayar's office, there were a lot of people sitting in the waiting room area. I could tell they were sick. Many of them just looked so down and others were accompanied by people who took care of them. I filled out the necessary forms and met with a nurse who asked me some questions about my symptoms and history.

Then, a doctor, who looked in his 50s, called my name from the hallway. I wanted my mom to go in to see him. Dr. Nayar seemed nice right away. My mom and I briefly told him all that had happened and how I had just completed the Turning Key Recovery Center program recommended by Maple. He asked many questions about my symptoms and about what medications I had been on. He kept my prescription the same as Dr. Sharma recommended when I left Turning Key Recovery Center. He said he would like to start decreasing the Zyprexa little by little as I continue getting better. I left with a good impression of Dr. Nayar. I was glad that the great care I had at Turning Key Recovery Center would continue. They did not just leave me in the dark when I graduated from Turning Key Recovery Center.

I met the therapist recommended by Turning Key Recovery Center, Michelle, for an appointment during the week. My mom took off from work to go with me. The therapy office was only a couple minutes from my house, which was great. When we got there and met Michelle, she seemed very nice, very positive and cheerful.

I wanted my mom to go in for the appointment. There was a small waiting room and her office was down the hall to the right. There must have been one or two other therapists sharing the space with her. Her office was really big. There was a couch, two chairs and a table in the middle as well. There were no windows but a lot of decorations.

Michelle mostly listened the first session so she could get to know me. We started all the way from the beginning of when I got sick (which seemed long to do, even all the way back then). We told her about what happened at college and all about Maple. We went on to tell her the final diagnosis of Bipolar I, and also about Turning Key Recovery Center and finally, about meeting Dr. Nayar.

Michelle had said that the diagnosis of bipolar is a lot easier to work with than schizophrenia. Michelle was completely shocked that they wanted to do ECT on me. She couldn't believe that. She had said that she knew Nancy, the case manager from Maple, and she had worked under her while in school. When I said I worked at Ben's, she said that if she ever ran into me there or anywhere, she would never say hi or anything unless I did first because of patient confidentiality. I felt secure like anything I said was safe and would not get back to Maple or to any other place I had been.

As to my treatment plans, she explained that she would help me stay well and help me with work and school. She would basically help me manage my bipolar and learn to live a productive and healthy life. We would meet every two weeks.

She said that she had some papers for me to read about bipolar disorder and she would give them to me the next appointment. She gave me a lot of paperwork to fill out. We planned an appointment two weeks later at night so my mom could take me after work. The next appointment I would go in all by myself to talk to Michelle.

From the end of November until January, I worked at Ben's. My dad and sister would pick me up and drop me off a lot. Sometimes my mom would pick me up. It was only three nights a week. I did not work that often- just part-time. It was not hard for me. I was a cashier and would ring up orders and would get a break in the middle of the four hours I worked. I did not get to know my coworkers, as I was only there a month.

I look at my time at Ben's as a little stepping stone to get ready for school. They knew I was not going to be there long-term but they needed a lot of extra help around the holiday season, as lines would wrap around the store. In the meantime, I was accepted to Stenton and prepared for that.

On days that I was not working, I was well enough to stay home alone. I would just enjoy the day and watch TV. I would still continue to paint and do things I had learned at Turning Key Recovery Center. My friend Jen from high school gave me her dorm address and told me to write letters to her about how things were going, which I did. I just kept busy doing things in the house. I was content and looking forward to school in January.

Two weeks after the initial appointment with Michelle, I went to the next appointment along with my mom, but went in by myself. It was weird without my mom because in the group meetings at Turning Key Recovery Center I could say I have bipolar, and I feel ok, and that was all. But here I actually had to talk the whole time- there was no one to share the attention with. There were always ten or so people in the meetings at Turning Key Recovery Center. I had never been to a therapist individually except in high school when I would meet with the guidance counselor to talk about my schedule.

I remember I walked in and sat down and Michelle asked, "So- what happened?" And I was a little confused because my mom and I had told her the entire story two weeks ago. But then she said "I heard your mom's version of it but not yours,"- not implying that my mom was wrong but I think she just wanted me to explain it.

I tried saying as much as I could about everything, like how I didn't go to the classes at Silva and stayed up all week. I just kind of said a couple sentences at a time and then she would ask me certain questions. I told her more about my family, high school and just general things about myself. I didn't really talk a lot in the beginning, but I told her about what it was like getting sick and what it was like in the hospital. It was hard to explain how hard getting sick really was to anyone, but I did the best I could. She said that she would help me to stay well and get ready for Stenton. She said if I am away at Stenton and cannot make an appointment, we could do a phone session. I generally felt good about therapy especially because now I understood it after being in a hospital and at Turning Key Recovery Center. I would never have gone to a therapist just on my own because I thought that only really sick people went to them.

Michelle showed me the papers she had been telling me about – they were about bipolar disorder- explaining everything from the definition of bipolar to the symptoms to medications. The papers Michelle gave me were very helpful to read.

December was similar to November- working part-time at Ben's, relaxing during the day, and keeping up with therapy. In December, we did visit Maple and we brought cookies to them. It was really weird going in there. I could not help but glance at the room I had been in. It felt different going in just to visit and freely walking out those glass doors and down the elevator. I preferred it that way.

I also kept up therapy with Michelle. She worked on preparing me for Stenton. We talked about my sleeping, classes, and roommates. She helped me to be aware of symptoms and how long to recognize an episode (which I would not truly learn until December of 2011- yes it took me that long to catch an episode starting myself without others telling me).

I slowly became more open in therapy but I was still pretty quiet, and I preferred just to listen rather than talk. It was a night in particular that Michelle and I were talking about serious things- she had asked me if I knew what ECT was and I said I knew it was shock therapy but not much else about it. She was explaining how they do it and it sounded awful. Just as we were talking about that, it sounded like a car drove through the office and when we ran out it was my mom by the radio. She had tried to turn it down because she was reading her book and she blasted it instead. Therapy was not all serious all the time- some parts were funny as well.

I received letters from Stenton in the mail, as I was accepted and getting ready to go there. Three of the roommates had already been there since fall semester and I was taking the place of someone who had just graduated and moved out. I talked to two of the roommates on the phone. They said the apartment has a kitchen, two bedrooms, a living room, and a bathroom. They would not be there when I moved in because I was a new student and would be doing orientation the day before they got there.

I decided I wanted to tell them that I was bipolar. Michelle said that it was a good idea - especially because it would be a challenging experience going back to school, living on campus, and classes full-time. When I told my roommates, they weren't judgmental at all.

### Chapter 7: Jumping Back into Life

Soon enough, it was the day to move into Stenton. Because I was a "new" student I was scheduled to move into the apartment a day before the returning students came back for the spring semester. Because I was scared to spend the first night away from home again after getting sick at Silva, my mom stayed over on the couch. We figured it was not a big deal because no one else was there. If she did not do that, I don't know if I would have felt comfortable going that day and may have waited or went to orientation and came home and then had my dad drive me back again the next day.

I packed everything up I wanted to bring. The plan was that I was going to come home every single weekend no matter what so I did not bring a lot of things. My sister and Brian brought us there that day. It was about a 40 minute drive - not nearly as far as Silva, which was two and half hours away.

We went to Northville on the way to Stenton. Northville is a place with little stores and places to eat, right down the road from Stenton. We looked around there and had some lunch. Then we got to Stenton and found where my apartment was. It was the second set of apartments closer to the lake and path to the college. My apartment would be on the end towards the path and on the second floor.

I was nervous walking up the stairs and opening the door for the first time. When I opened the door, the first thing I had seen was a sign that said "Welcome Melany" on it. It was cute and heart-warming. The roommate in particular who made that sign was someone I would room with the next few years.

I couldn't believe how big the apartment was and how there was a living room, a kitchen, two rooms, and a bathroom. I was so used to Silva where I was in the dorms which had small rooms and a microwave, at the most, in the room and bathrooms you had to share with everyone. I already like being in an apartment much better than a dorm. I also liked the view from the apartments when you walked outside. There were trees and other apartments and paths. I just felt so calm and comfortable in the outside environment of Stenton, as well as inside.

I unpacked all my things and decorated my desk just like I had at Silva. It was easier that I had the chance to move in by myself, easier for me to just process and take in everything. Brian helped connect my computer and TV. My sister helped put all my food away. They headed home.

My mom and I just hung out that night and made frozen pizza bites. I took a lot of pictures of all the rooms. It was very exciting. I was so excited to be there. I put my medications in a special place near my desk. I would actually leave them out a lot on top of the desk during the semester, as all the roommates knew I took medication.

The next day my dad came to meet my mom and me and drove us to the campus, as my mom was fearful of walking through the path – a wooded path from the housing areas to the academic buildings which opens up to a lake. The path takes a couple minutes to walk through and is beautiful, changing with each season. I would later walk it hundreds of times the following couple of years. It would clear my mind and make me feel balanced when I walked to and from classes and my apartment.

The orientation was fast- just a general meeting in the auditorium in which the president welcomed you. And then you picked up your ID card and went to get your books.

My mom and I went to the bookstore. I was taking Pre-calculus, Speech Science I, Communication Disorders, and Psychology and the Law. I needed a small book for each class and the total came to a little over $200 or so. I remember telling my parents how at Silva those science classes' books were huge and heavy and very expensive. I already liked my new major.

I also had the chance to walk around the campus. It was beautiful. There is the lake and lots of trees. There is the beautiful path. The buildings are nice to look at. The scenery is comforting and serene.

I met my roommate Sara first – who would share the room with me. She was very thin and had glasses and seemed quiet. We would never have a problem. She actually was a night owl and would stay up quietly on her computer or in the living room reading and would sleep until 1PM or 2PM in the afternoon. My classes were around 9AM and I would actually stay up until about 10PM at night. I also met Courtney who was a speech pathology major like me. She said she would help me if I needed anything. She was nice but she was never there because she was very busy. And then I met Laura, who I would room with for the next two years and remain friends with today.

Laura was the only roommate I hadn't told about me having bipolar disorder yet. When I did tell her, I was very relieved when she told me she knew all about bipolar disorder because her mother has bipolar disorder. Laura had the huge book called "The Brain" and she is currently a psychologist. She would help me greatly when I would get manic the following fall. We still keep in touch today.

The night before classes started I was nervous. I remember telling Michelle that I am just scared that I will "forget" to go to all my classes like what happened at Silva. I could picture the same thing happening again. She had said that there's no reason I would do that again because when I was at Silva I was sick that week. I looked at my schedule a million times and wrote lots of notes reminding me to get to each class. It was so nerve-racking. I didn't want to forget to go to classes like I had that first week at Silva.

Also, I told Michelle that I planned on going home every single weekend since Stenton was closer than Silva. And I did do just that – my dad, my mom and her boyfriend, or Brian would take me back and forth. At home, I would relax and buy groceries for the apartment and study. It was comforting and safe to come home for the weekends, as I was still afraid to be there for weeks without coming home. I only ended up staying one weekend at Stenton – my very last weekend at Stenton, in 2008.

The first week of classes I did make it to every single class. I think I made it to every single class the entire semester. It was a great start. I met very nice friends in my speech classes- Juanita, Jill, and Erika. We were all in Speech Science and Communication Disorders together. We took Speech Science on Monday and Wednesday afternoons and Communication Disorders on Monday nights. In between the two classes on Monday, we would grab something to eat and talk about the classes.

I would tell them about having bipolar disorder that March, after we were talking about a blood drive and I had said that I had my blood taken just last week and Erika had said, "Oh, for what?" And I didn't want to make up an excuse and I really trusted all of them so I said "Lithium level" and Erika said, "For bipolar?" And I said, "Yeah." I would slowly tell them more about it and they would see me manic the following December. They never saw me in a negative way because I am bipolar, and our friendships have never changed.

I was looking forward to starting the speech science class with Dr. Samuel. He was intelligent and I still remember all of his jokes. He always made all of us laugh. If I ever felt down or anxious before his class I always left with a smile.

I had another great class in the spring semester of 2005 called Psychology and the Law. I chose it because after being diagnosed with bipolar disorder, I wanted to learn more about psychology. We reviewed many cases in which the defendant was declared incompetent to stand trial. We covered popular cases and read many books. The teacher was very nice. I would actually talk a lot in that class and answer many questions. The teacher ended up writing an essay for me for a scholarship I applied for. I still have all the books and papers I wrote from the Psychology and the Law class.

I decided not to work the spring semester as I did not want to put any extra pressure on myself. My family and I were comfortable with money and there was no urgent need for me to work. I did not have any car loans or insurance. I was not spending a lot of money and I was paying for college with student loans.

I was still a perfectionist, even at Stenton \- even after being sick. I still worked extra hard in classes and strived for A's and 100s on every assignment. That part of me always stayed with me, even today. It is negative in the sense that I put a lot of pressure on myself but also good because I achieve a lot of goals I set my mind to.

I still could not get over how beautiful the campus of Stenton was. It had a little bit of everything- academic buildings, places outside to sit, a beautiful path, a lake, and new apartments. Sometimes in the fall it is especially breath-taking. It was such a nice atmosphere.

I ended up dropping my Pre-calculus class- it was just too hard for me then and I realized that I did not even have to take it for my speech curriculum. I ended up just taking the three classes which were enough credits to be able to live on campus.

What I really did focus on that first semester at Stenton was my weight. Weight would continue to be a struggle for me for many years, even today. It's not just everyday fluctuations in weight. It is being 125lbs, getting manic, going on Zyprexa and gaining 30 lbs in three weeks. I had gained a lot of weight since Maple. In January of 2005, my weight was 155lbs, from being in the 120s before getting sick. In May of the same year it would be 130lbs, thus fluctuating along with the meds.

It was around February of 2005, when I decided I wasn't happy about the weight I had gained, as I was getting back into the swings of things. The initial feelings of being out of the hospital and focused on Turning Key Recovery Center were over and now I wanted to look like I had before. I started going to the gym, at Stenton, which was on the third floor of the sports building and going on the elliptical for 30 minutes every day.

I also ate very healthfully that spring. During the day I would eat oatmeal in the morning, a Caesar salad for lunch, and five chicken nuggets for dinner. When I felt hungry I ate some wheat pretzels. At home, over the weekend, I ate salads and healthy snacks.

I saw Dr. Nayar and Michelle in March during my spring break. Dr. Nayar had lowered the Zyprexa and kept the Lithium and Lamictal the same. I had a lot to catch up on with Michelle. I told her all about school. I imagine I was a little bit more talkative than back in December.

### Chapter 8: A Great Summer

Soon enough, it was May and time to go home for the summer. I had picked out my classes for fall 2005- Computers (which I would drop before the semester), Speech Science II, Biostatistics, Introduction to Psychology, and Language Acquisition. Laura, my roommate who was studying to be a psychologist, had asked me to room again with her next year. Sara was rooming with her friend and Courtney was graduating.

Coming home in May I felt so happy and confident! Things were going really well. I had loved Stenton and had not had one bad experience. I had not missed a class and I had gotten a 4.0 GPA. More importantly, I met nice roommates and nice friends from speech pathology. I had lost 30lbs and was completely healthy. Life was good.

In May, I was officially off Zyprexa and now just on Lithium and Lamictal. I went to Dr. Nayar every three months and was back to going to Michelle every two weeks since I was back in Starbrooke. My best friend Christine from high school, who had wanted to fly back from Brooke City and prevent the ECT, was home for the summer as well. I still was not driving and did not have a car but it did not bother me at all.

I decided to not work in summer 2005. I did not really need a lot of money for anything and I really wanted to just enjoy relaxing and going to the beach. My parents agreed that I should just take it easy and enjoy the summer. Plus, if I did work I would always need rides to and from. And like I said, I did not really need any money for anything except little things.

The previous summer, 2004, I had spent at Silva. It was not awful but I did work a lot at the cafeteria and security office and I took a genetics class. I also never got to the beach because Silva is in the mountains in Pennsylvania. Looking back, one might actually say well who wouldn't get sick after working and studying so much the entire summer? However, the symptoms I had were not from stress but were actual symptoms of mania such as the pacing and no sleep. In the future, I would further have six more recurring episodes. It really was just the beginning even though the summer of 2005 went so well. I never thought I would ever be in the hospital again or even lose another night of sleep. I thought I had conquered it and I would be forever healthy in my new life I had established attending school at Stenton. I thought this would continue forever- these feelings of confidence and contentment.

For me, summer 2005 was from May to August while I was home from college. During the summer, I had a relaxing schedule. I would wake up around 9am and I would lay outside in the yard in a lounge chair in my bathing suit and listen to music. Then around 11am, I would take a shower and throw on capris and a tank top. I would cook a veggie burger without the roll and at twelve I would watch TV shows.

I would also work on making scrapbooks. My sister had cleaned out the attic that May and there were tons of pictures and things from school that were mixed up in there. I made piles of everything according to years, and I ended up making about seven or so scrapbooks that have everything in there I would want to save. I cut things and used paste and stickers- it was a lot of work and kept me very busy. I would play music in the background. My mom would get home around six and I would usually cook something like chicken and broccoli for us for dinner.

I spent a lot of time with Christine. We would go to the beach a lot. We would stop at the store and get bottled waters and granola bars and drive to the beach and just lie out and read. We would go shopping a lot and look around at the mall and stores. We would go grab coffee and lunch. She was studying psychology and was very interested in bipolar disorder. We were really good friends and would just hang out all the time. It was nice having a close friend such as Christine in Starbrooke because my friends from Stenton lived too far to spend time with outside of the academic year. I saw my friends Jen and Jess from home as well. We did things for our birthdays and would go to the mall together.

I would also help babysit with Kim across the street like I had done last fall on days I wasn't going to Turning Key Recovery Center. I would go over a couple days a week for an hour or two and help her with the kids and she would pay me. So in a way, I did end up working a little bit. I used the spending money for things like jean skirts, halters and flip flops.

As I said, I would continue to see Michelle every two weeks. I would check in on how I was doing. There really weren't any problems going on. My sleeping patterns and mood for the most part were ok. There were a few nights it took me a little longer to fall asleep but that was it. The meds were the same. I was doing great in all areas of my life. Michelle and I would talk about what things I was doing during the summer. We began to work on other things like self- confidence and assertiveness, as well as keep in check with the bipolar disorder.

I began taking a lot of pictures because I was into the scrapbooking. I made a scrapbook of summer 2005. I look at it whenever I feel down to remind me that there was a time when I felt very happy and confident and healthy. I always remind myself when I am depressed that if I did feel like this in the past, it is possible to feel like this again.

I also was taking a lot of pictures because for once in a long while I actually liked how I looked in pictures. I hadn't done this for a bit in high school or college but in these pictures I just looked healthy, and like someone who overcame a difficult situation like having bipolar disorder. I was proud of myself.

I always enjoyed shopping and looking around. I was always in such a rush that I didn't really notice things. In summer of 05, I noticed a lot and enjoyed just shopping or window shopping. I enjoyed being out of the house and doing fun things. I also liked going to bar-b-ques and picnics, something I usually shy away from.

In August, I went with Christine and her parents to help her move into the house she would live in during her junior year in Brooke City. We stayed a couple nights. She set up her room. We went out to eat a lot and did a lot of shopping. I ended up getting a picture frame and a large pink soft pillow and a bag for my books at school. Helping Christine move into her house for school reminded me that school was just around the corner. I could not wait for the fall semester of 2005.

My sister, Brian, and I also went during the summer to visit my Aunt Barbara and Uncle Ed in the Poconos. We brought Brian's nephew and we went up for the day – about a two hour ride. We had lunch at the campsite and we went on their boat for the day. Afterwards, we got ice cream. I took a lot of pictures. It was nice getting to see them and spending some time on the boat together. Brian's nephew had a great time as well.

In August are mine, my mom's, my great aunt's, my uncles', and my sister's birthdays, so we are always busy that month. To celebrate my birthday, I went out with high school friends Jen and Jess to dinner. I got some nice gifts from my family. My sister and Brian got me all the kitchen supplies for my apartment at school – plates, bowls, silverware, and cooking supplies. I brought those supplies to college that fall.

Also, during the summer my sister was beginning to plan her wedding, which was in March of 2006. I was going to be the maid of honor. It all seemed exciting to be in the wedding.

I remember my last appointment with Michelle right before I went back to school. I brought all the stuff I bought in Brooke City, in the car, to show her. Michelle came outside and I showed her everything I was bringing to school. When I went into the office I showed her all of the pictures from the summer. I remember I was very excited about school starting. Michelle said that I should do great and that I was doing really well.

I must have been doing really well because Michelle would say often to my mom "she needs her life back." She had said that as soon as I get off the medicine it will be the last appointment because I need to get back with my life. She said there is just no strong family history of bipolar disorder.

### Chapter 9: An Awesome Fall 2005

I was ready for the fall semester of 2005, my second semester at Stenton. As usual, my sister and Brian brought us to Stenton. This semester Laura and I were in the new apartments, which were beautiful. I roomed with Laura, and we had two new roommates Dawn and Emily.

The new apartments were so beautiful. When we walked into our apartment, which again was on the second floor. There was a dining table, a living room, and a kitchen on the right. Then there was a hallway on the right leading to two rooms on the left and a huge bathroom with a different section for the shower.

I still remember decorating. I put the picture frame which I had bought in Brooke City with Christine that held many pictures next to our window. I decorated my desk and organized my clothes. Everything looked great.

I was so happy to start the fall semester, especially after having such a great summer. When I met Emily and Dawn, they were very nice. Laura and I were 20 years old and they were about 23. We decorated the apartment nicely. We were all interested in school and cooking.

Laura and I went shopping to get some more decorations for the apartment. I picked out two pictures of flowers. I thought they were really pretty. I put one of them in my room. She got some pictures as well. The pictures and decorations added a warm touch to the apartment.

My classes were awesome the fall semester of 2005. I particularly liked the Intro to Psychology class with Dr. Richard. He was a really good professor and extremely smart. Now I became so much more interested in psychology than ever because I had bipolar disorder. I would always read ahead a little about what we were discussing in that class. We would have a test every few chapters or so. I did really well in his class. I even told Dr. Richard the first day after everyone had left about my experience with bipolar disorder. He was very accepting and was interested in what I told him.

I still went home every weekend. On the weekends, I would do homework and go shopping. My mom and her boyfriend would drive me back to Stenton on Sunday and my dad would usually pick me up on Thursdays.

I saw Juanita, Jill, and Erika again – my friends from the speech classes. The classes that we took together that semester were Speech Science II and Language Acquisition. Speech Science II was learning about all the muscles required for speech. There were a lot of diagrams and a lot of facts to remember, but I liked the class because it was very challenging.

Juanita, Jill, Erika, and I would go to Language Acquisition on Tuesday nights. That was my favorite class of the semester. We learned how we acquire speech from the sounds – in what order and how we develop language. The teacher was very smart and taught us a lot from the clinical aspect. We all took tons of notes. We even observed kids at different ages and evaluated their speech. I was excited about being a speech therapist every time I walked out of this class.

In October, Erika and I had gone to the mall where I had bought my mom her X-mas gift- a necklace with the two peridot girl charms to represent my sister and I. This was the necklace she would have to wear every single day to High Tower Hospital in December so I would believe it was her.

Classes went great. Grades were perfect. I continued to work out to stay in shape. My roommates and I cooked dinner every Wednesday. We would take turns cooking. I really got into learning to cook new recipes. I would make chicken, tortellini, and desserts. My roommates and I were always baking brownies or cupcakes. I took pictures of the brownies we made.

I took a lot of pictures of the campus and my friends. I made a fall scrapbook. Fall is my favorite season. I got plenty of little stickers for the scrapbook. I also put my favorite motivating quotes on the first page. On the page with the new roommates I put a sticker "new friends." They appreciated that. I showed the scrapbook to my family and Michelle. They all liked it and agreed I was doing fantastic.

### Chapter 10: Leading into Mania

It was the general consensus between Dr. Nayar and Michelle that I was doing well and it seemed like I did not need medicine, as it was being lowered and no symptoms were returning. Believing all of this, I took the Lithium less and less. I was off the Lithium completely probably around the beginning of December, or at least not a therapeutic amount. It was ultimately my decision to try to go off the Lithium.

There was a lot going on but things were good. It was in November of 2005 when I decided it was time to buy a car. I had $4,000 saved in my bank account, most of which was from working all year at Silva and not spending. So one Saturday my mom and I went to a car dealership and I picked out a white car. The salesman let me drive it a little bit and I loved it. I had enough money for a down payment and would pay $280 a month until $18,000 was paid off.

I was so excited! We got to drive my car home. My mom drove it of course because I had never had a car to drive and was still fearful of driving so I still had to learn. I was not in a big rush but at least I finally had my own car. I took a lot of pictures of it. I called everyone on my phone and everyone was so happy for me. I kept looking outside the entire night and the next morning still not believing I had a car.

I decided I needed a job right away to pay for the car. Looking back, I probably should have gotten the job first and then the car but it still worked out. I decided I wanted to go to Pizza-N-Games because I had worked there during winter break while home from Silva and I made lots of tips helping out with the kids' birthday parties. I walked in and saw Vanessa, who was my former supervisor and also a friend of my mom's. I told her how I really needed a job and she said she will have me interviewed and meet with Travis, who was the manager at that time.

During that week, the car salesman called me again and he said he needed to raise the monthly payment up to $340. It was getting a little overwhelming but I said ok. I could still afford to pay for the car as I did not pay any other bills.

I practiced driving to work before Thanksgiving with my mom. I just started driving only to really close places like Pizza-N-Games, as driving still made me nervous. I didn't like to drive too fast and I didn't like when there was a lot of traffic.

It was right before Thanksgiving when I went to orientation at Pizza-N-Games. The position Travis had given me was a cashier so I did not get tips but it still was a job. There were all different workers from winter 2004, but I had not known them well anyway because I had only been there during winter break. I did meet a friend who went to Stenton and she was also in a class of Dr. Richard's. She may have even been in the same psychology class I was at the time.

I cooked our entire Thanksgiving meal in 2005. It was just my mom, dad, my sister, Brian and I. I made salad, sweet potatoes, green beans and stuffing- basically everything except the turkey.

I worked at Pizza-N-Games on Fridays and Saturdays and then would work more during winter break when I came home from Stenton. The job was not stressful at all even though it was very loud there with all the games and the kids. People just told me what they wanted on their pizzas and how many drinks and I would just put their order in. I would also work the prizes sections. We were always using calculators because customers would give you tickets and you would add up their points and subtract how much they had left as they picked out their prizes. It was very simple math though. Not rocket science – just adding and subtracting. Those were my only responsibilities. The job was close and the time went by quickly.

Soon the spring class schedule came out. Erika, Jill, Juanita and I planned to be in the same classes together. We chose classes. Aural Rehab was one of the classes we were taking together. I also chose Introduction to Music as well, along with other classes. I was looking forward to the spring semester. I was hoping to be able to drive myself back and forth to school, as Brian was going to teach me. I would continue to work at Pizza-N-Games.

Around the beginning of December, I started going a little bit faster with things. My finals were coming up in the four classes I was taking. Because my averages already in those classes were around 98 or so there really wasn't any pressure to perform great. However, I wanted it to be perfect.

Dr. Richard, the professor of Intro to Psychology, brought in two speakers from NAMI – the National Alliance of the Mentally Ill, which is a group of advocates for the mentally ill. One of the speakers had paranoid schizophrenia and the other had depression. They each spoke. I just connected with their struggles and pain because I had been through something like they had. Sometime afterwards within the next couple days, I would go into the library and cry because I felt sad and really felt for them.

I started studying non-stop. I would always study a lot but I became consumed with studying. I was writing the notes from my classes over and over and over again. I made piles and piles of notecards. I memorized everything. I was more than prepared for my finals – way too prepared. And I was memorizing every single word. I wanted to get A's on everything and was consumed in my work.

Also, I do not think I was eating that much –some days maybe just cereal in the morning. I worked the next two weekends at Pizza-N-Games. I drove there myself which was a huge accomplishment for me. Work was going good. There were no problems. I was going to learn the salad bar soon.

The rest of the semester at school, which was about two weeks, I was sleeping ok. I did not lose any sleep that semester. However, I particularly remember at my Speech Science final exam I had finished the exam in a matter of minutes. It must have been about eight or nine pages and when I handed mine in I noticed everyone else was still on the first page. Dr. Samuel looked at me a little funny that I had finished so fast but he knew I was a good student. Later on, my friends Juanita, Jill and Erika would tell me how shocked they were when I got up in five minutes and handed in my final exam and left. I did actually end up doing well on it, as I got an A in the class.

I must have done that with all my exams. When it was the last day at Stenton before I went home for winter break, Laura had already left to go home. It was just Emily and I. I was packing up my things to take home and I noticed Laura had left me a little ornament as a X-mas gift. I showed Emily and she said Laura gave us all one and I started crying all upset because I hadn't gotten Laura anything. Usually, I would have thought like how nice and I will get her something and bring it for the new semester. I just started crying and kept crying. Emily was very concerned.

I left that night to come home. I showed my mom the ornament Laura had gotten me. We put it on my mom's mini Christmas tree. I went to my sister's group home, where she worked (with people with intellectual disabilities) because it was their holiday party. We took pictures. They had good food. It was a fun night. I felt happy and confident and looking forward to the spring semester at Stenton already.

The first week home where I was able to work more (five or so days instead of only weekends), I was trained on the salad bar by my friend at Stenton. I got a little certificate afterwards. She showed me exactly how Travis wanted everything cut and put out. It seemed simple. It was easy to learn. She had me do most of it as she was training me.

We went to Dr. Nayar in mid-late December. I told him I was doing really well and I went off Lithium. We did not make another appointment because I no longer needed medication management.

### Chapter 11: Mania Comes on Again

On Christmas Eve, my Uncle Gary and his girlfriend Betty came over. Tiffany gave me a white coat. I loved it. She had gotten herself a green coat. My mom gave me perfume. I had bought a new photo album for the spring pictures I would take. I was happy. I loved school, my friends, my job, and my new car.

However, that night I started staying up a little later. I remember watching X-mas singing and sitting on the floor in my room. I also organized my room a little bit as well. On X-mas, my mom's boyfriend Nelson came over. I didn't eat that much. I took pictures of Crystal, my cat, by the tree and some of my mom, my sister, and I and put them online.

I built a gingerbread house by myself. I was really into making it and made the entire house in minutes. I did not want to stop. It was simple- a gingerbread house that a kid could make. But normally I wouldn't be doing that if I were healthy. We took pictures of the gingerbread house.

One day, I had decided my mom's room was cluttered and I wanted to clean it. Everyone was at work. I had off. I must have been like a tornado because when my mom got home she said everything in her room was in the next room. I threw out bags and bags of stuff and changed everything around. The entire downstairs was filled with stuff from her room. I was not tired at all. I was all proud and I thought at the time that was great. No one thought the same though. My sister and my dad had to bring all the garbage outside. My mom was completely shocked and did not know where anything was.

That same night I had an appointment with Michelle. I was all excited because I was going to drive there alone with my car for the first time and show her the car. But my mom went with me because she felt I wasn't in any condition to drive.

We got there and I brought all my books in to show Michelle from the semester. I showed her the Psych and Speech Science book and my notes, and I think pictures too. Then I said I had to go clean the kitchen because I wanted to do that next. She said "OK then call me if you need me." She said that will be the last appointment because we told her that we told Dr. Nayar I was off the Lithium and he had said I didn't need another appointment.

However, when I went to the car my mom stayed and talked to Michelle for a couple minutes. She did not tell me at the time, but she told me after High Tower Hospital that Michelle said, "I think she is in mania. You should take her to the ER." My mom didn't end up taking me to the ER because she wanted me to get better at home and avoid another hospital visit.

When I got home, I started reorganizing the silverware and trying to make salads like I had done at Pizza-N-Games, while learning about the salad bar. I don't think I slept well.

The next day at work I began doing everything. I was cleaning the bathrooms and taking out their trash. I was washing all the dishes. I was pretty much doing every single job possible there. I remember when I was at the cash register and someone would say, "I would like a large pizza with extra cheese," I would stare at the register and not know what to do- it would just be like looking at a different language. I didn't know how to do it anymore. Even worse, I couldn't use a calculator. When a kid gave me 10 points and 12 points to add I couldn't do it. I was trying to type the numbers in and it would not work. I kept asking the person next to me to do it. I was doing biostatistics two weeks earlier and now I couldn't do simple addition that I had learned in first grade. It was frightening.

I still didn't think I was sick. I was too deeply into it already to realize. There really was no psychosis at that point, but I was just getting into the mania.

I went out to dinner with my mom, my mom's friend Ann and our friends, Kathie, Jen, and Kerri. I remember I was crying there after we ordered dinner.

The next day I went to work. I remember I brought my fall photo book to show Travis, and walked to the door and then walked back with it because I thought it was stupid to do that. I was alone to do the salad bar that day. I started getting things out from the back like lettuce and broccoli. I had no idea what I was doing with it. All I remember is I had this big knife to cut the vegetables with and I had the knife on top of a vegetable like I was going to cut it. Travis came out of his office and I just started laughing, all silly. He was like "Are you OK?" And I was like, "Yea." Then he went back in his office.

I think that is when I realized I couldn't cut all those vegetables and make a salad bar. I knocked on his door and I said "I have to talk to you for a minute." I said, "I have bipolar disorder," and he said "Oh so that would explain all this stuff?" and I said, "Yea." He did look relieved that there was a logical reason to explain how I was acting. He brought me to sit down at one of the tables and he said he wants me working there but he wants me there healthy and get a note from my psychiatrist to come back. He asked if I can drive home and I said "Yeah I can drive home."

So I drove home. I still don't know how I drove home. I have no idea. I don't remember driving home. I just remember walking inside.

I remember when I got home. Brian's nephew was over visiting. My mom was cooking lunch. I told my mom about what had happened at Pizza-N-Games and she was worried because I needed a note from my psychiatrist to go back to work. I remember I ate lunch and just laid on the couch.

My mom called Dr. Nayar. He said we always try to go off of medicines if the patient is young, but to put her back on Lithium. And that is what we did. He said to take put me back on the medicine and I should be ok within ten days and if not, then take me to the ER if needed.

My sister remembers taking me to a store around this time. She said when we went in there I kept asking everyone where my father was. She said people started asking her if I was ok. We had to leave.

It must have been New Year's Eve morning when Christine came over. She came in my room and I was showing her school stuff but I don't remember anything else. She told my mom I wasn't acting right.

One night I was scared of everything- the toilet, the sink, the TV- everything. I slept in my mom's room and I was up the entire night lying there just afraid of any noise.

The next morning my mom had to go to work, so Kim across the street said I could go over there for the day. I remember going over there. I remember what I wore- blue jeans and a brown scoop-neck sweater. I just brought my purse. I remember I was sitting on her couch and her dog was running around me. She told my mom that I took out my wallet and took out all of my credit cards and put them all around her table.

Kim brought me downstairs and said I could relax on her couch and just rest. There was a kids' show on the TV and I was just sitting there. I remember that every car that drove by the window where I was sitting sounded really loud and seemed to whiz by. I wasn't thinking about school or work. I'm not sure if I even knew how sick I was. I'm not sure I even had a thought, such as why aren't I at work? What time do I have to work? Why am I sitting on Kim's couch all day watching a kids' movie?

I got worried and ran upstairs and I think Kim had to call my mom so I could talk to her. I don't know if I wanted to eat anything. My mom came in the back door. I don't know what time it was. I told my mom I wanted to stay at Kim's house. My mom said we have to go and then Kim started crying saying that I could stay at her house if I wanted to. I went with my mom in the car. Nelson, my mom's boyfriend at the time, was driving.

I wasn't sure where I was going. I was sitting in the back. I felt ok because my mom was with me. Everything was whizzing by and it felt like we were going 300mph. Everything seemed like it was spinning. I think I was just looking at my cell phone, but not thinking about calling anyone- just observing it.

We arrived at Maple University Medical Center that night. I could not go to Laurette Pavilion, where I was in September of 2004, because at that time all the rooms were full. So they had me in the ER in a bed. My mom told me I kept getting up and walking around looking amazed at all the doctors and what they were doing. And my mom said I pulled a curtain over real fast and scared the family who were sitting behind it waiting for a doctor.

That's when I was moved to a locked, crisis ER to wait. It was a small square. There were office people in the front behind a glass window and two rows of chairs in the front and some on the side. My sister got there and the lady at the desk was saying she had to go through my sister's purse. My sister got mad and threw her whole purse at that lady

I do remember I kept saying "I'm done", "I'm done." I was just sitting there with my head on my shoulder just saying I am done. I didn't want to try anymore.

My sister thought it would be nice if I kept busy writing, "6PM," on her wedding invitations where the time was. The first marker she gave me was a dry erase marker and everything I had written kept wiping off every time I wrote it so she then found a permanent marker. I do remember writing 6PM on every invitation. I think I was writing it too fast but I would later see it looked clear on the invitations.

My mom and my sister said all of a sudden I started giving out the invitations to the patients sitting in there with me. There was a guy in particular sitting across from me, maybe in his 50s, and I went over and gave him the invitation. My mom and my sister said that the guy had said "Hmm...I don't know if I can make it...I'll try..." He folded up the wedding invitation and put it in his pocket. He never did end up going to the wedding though.

I remember some lady brought me behind a curtain and was asking me questions. I remember like her mouth seemed to be floating and I did not know what she was saying or what I was saying. It was really weird. I was just so tired that I couldn't comprehend what anyone was saying anymore. It was like I was in a dream. I did not even know I was at Maple and how the rooms were filled. I had absolutely no idea where I was - at all.

Then I remember someone took my blood and I thought there wasn't much blood left in me for some reason because it was coming out really slow. When I was getting blood taken, I thought it was leaving my veins permanently. I was a little psychotic.

Because the rooms in Maple were all filled up, I was going to be sent to another hospital, High Tower Hospital, to the psych unit that is part of their hospital system.

The next thing I know I was in an ambulance, in the back part of it, and my mom was sitting on the passenger's seat in the front. I thought the driver was my Uncle Ed. My mom did say later that it looked like him. I thought I had been in an awful car accident and I didn't want to look down at myself. I would think I was dead for the first two weeks at High Tower because of this. There was a nice girl probably in her 20s who kept saying, "You OK?" and I would say, "Yea". Then I would go, "Eh," all scared and she would say, "You OK?" and I would say, "Yea." It was a weird experience.

I don't remember ever getting off the ambulance. The next thing I knew I was walking with my mom into this unit and my sister and Brian were walking all around in there and no one else was there but two ladies at this table. It was just a really long hallway on both sides. I remember signing things.

I would wake up the next day to the absolutely worst hospital experience I would ever have.

### Chapter 12: Worst Hospitalization Ever

I walked into High Tower as a 20 year old experiencing her second manic episode of bipolar disorder, and I walked out a zombie with medicines such as Haldol and Clozapine that would make me urinate in the bed every night and talk funny because my jaw was going stiff. How did I walk out of there? My mom and sister signed me out against medical advice. The option High Tower had in mind was to involuntarily commit me to another facility for months. Even as we were leaving, my mom would later tell me High Tower said that although I was leaving I would be back again very soon. History would show that not only did I recover and return to college but I also graduated with a 4.0.

It is hard for me to describe High Tower because a lot of it was a blur, but some parts were very clear. Much of what I know about High Tower has been told to me by my parents such as what I was saying and how I was acting. Also, at the time no one ever told me what medications I was on so I found out after leaving what their treatment plan was. I still today do not exactly understand what their treatment plan was. I felt trapped there and suffocating, struggling for air.

From what I can remember, after going to High Tower that night and signing paperwork with two women at a desk, they must have brought me to a room. There are many days that were a blur because of the strong medicines I was on, such as Haldol and Clozapine, which are strong anti-psychotics. My parents said that they would come to see me and I would just sit there. They would ask how I was and I would just say I was dead. That was the first couple of days there.

I remember that my doctor there, Dr. Skyo, had an office that was near a dining area. I remember the first and second time I saw him. I went into his office and I said I wanted to go home and go back to school. He had a purple fleece blanket in his office and I took it and wrapped it around myself while sitting on the couch. He said that I could keep it.

There was a poster on his wall that was very similar to one I had up in my dorm room at Silva. It was a picture of a beach and it had a saying related to having dreams and goals in life. I remember when I told him I just want to go home and go back to school, he said that that's his goal and he would get me home as soon as possible.

From that point on I don't remember meeting with him much more. I would see him walking quickly down the hall a lot and I would tell the staff I wanted to meet with the doctor. The staff would look at me funny and they would say, "Well you have to wait," or, "He's leaving but he will be back tomorrow." It was very confusing. He never came into my room to talk to me like the doctors at Maple did every single day.

In Maple, I was on medications, and different ones everyday- however I always felt like myself and was generally aware of what was going on. In High Tower, the strong medications would make me unaware, unable to get better. I actually got worse each day. I don't know why anyone did not just say, "OK, this isn't working. This girl was functional and she just completed a semester of college. Let's change our plan."

According to my mom, High Tower lost communication with Dr. Nayar and Michelle, my doctor and therapist at that time. Well, they actually never had communication. My parents had mentioned to them frequently about how I had a psychiatrist, therapist, and I was formerly at Maple and High Tower never contacted any of those sources, or at last it didn't seem so. Looking back, if my doctor and therapist, to whom I had been going to over a year, had some input into how to get me better and could show High Tower that I could be very functional, maybe High Tower would have done a better job.

I'm not sure if High Tower ever reviewed my records from Maple. From my point of view, I don't believe they had \- or at least not enough. The doctors at Maple worked hard for a month finding the right medicines for me. Lithium, Lamictal and Zyprexa worked great for me. Why High Tower did not follow where they had left off, I will never understand.

Also, being off Lithium for a month, it would take a little bit of time for me to adjust to Lithium again. I am aware I was more psychotic in the mania than I was at Maple, I believed I was dead. However, years later I would be even more psychotic than that and still be able to recover at home within two weeks with a high dose of Zyprexa.

Obviously, my body was not agreeing with Haldol and Clozapine. I was urinating in the bed every night. I was having trouble speaking because Haldol was stiffening my jaw. My eyes were glossy and I couldn't focus. How High Tower thought to keep me on those I will never know. But it felt awful. My parents described me as, "way off" and, "not communicating."

A lot of the way I acted was because of the strong medications I was taking. Both are strong anti-psychotic medicines that should be used only when there is nothing else working.

I was very confused at High Tower. According to my mom, she would visit and none of my clothes would be there. The staff would tell her that I threw all my clothes down a big chute in the shower room, a chute that the orderlies use to throw the dirty towels through.

Also, when my parents visited, the staff never knew where I was. My mom said I would just be in all different rooms. I remember wandering all around. I remember one day I went into this office that is usually always locked. I was probably in there for about 20 minutes or so. It was a large office and in the front were lots of water bottles used to refill the water machine in the hallway. There were a couple desks. I sat down at one near the wall and on the computer it said something like type in a drug name. I looked at the pen on the desk and just typed in the name and it brought up information about that drug. I don't really remember what drug it was. I thought I was supposed to type it in. I walked back out after that into the hallway.

My parents told me that there really was no communication with the doctor and nurses, and them. They weren't told anything. There weren't any meetings. There was no case manager. No plans for anything like Turning Key Recovery Center.

I remember being afraid of the water machine. I would go get a cup of water a lot and whenever it would make noise I would be afraid of it. I remember in the middle of the night I would get up and walk out and get a drink of water. There was always this short thin lady with dark brown, very short hair, sitting at the desk doing work on a computer and she would yell "Go to your room!" Instead of saying, "Oh, would you like something to eat as well? How are you feeling? What's going on?" She would just yell all crazy. A lot of High Tower just didn't make any sense. It was weird.

No one had ever just told me, "Melany, this is what happened- you were at school and you were working. You just bought a car and you are experiencing a manic episode with psychosis. Here is how we want to help you get back home and return you to school." The staff didn't tell me anything. It was so confusing and, if anything, making the psychosis worse.

My mom had brought me lots of construction paper and markers because she knew I liked to draw. I sat at this little desk in my room and would draw a lot. I still have what I wrote saved in my house. I would draw flowers and balloons a lot. I would make lots of cards for my mom saying that I loved her. I would write about Stenton and write the names of my roommates and friends at Stenton.

My mom brought me in stones I had bought her when I redid her room- clear, blue stones. It was like a large jar. I put them on my desk and thought of them as the Turning Key Recovery Center stones while I was drawing and writing. I would remember what I learned there, to try and communicate through pictures and writing how I was feeling. Like I said, I was basically drawing my family cards saying that I loved them, drawing Stenton, making lists of my friends and roommates, and writing down the medicines I had left with from Maple. I was trying to communicate my wants and needs through my drawings. High Tower never even noticed that.

What is more important is that I do remember how frustrated I was that I was not getting better. I kept writing over and over the meds and amounts I had left with from Maple. I would write Lithium, Lamictal, Zyprexa, Paxil, and all the miligrams I needed. When I got out of High Tower, I would go back to Dr. Nayar and he would prescribe me almost exactly what I had been writing and two weeks later I would be helping out at my sister's bridal shower.

My mom said they were short of staff and pulled staff from other units. There was a girl probably about my age from the maternity unit. She didn't know anything about psych but she was actually the nicest one there. She would just walk around with me and she would ask if I were ok a lot. My mom brought in my summer scrapbook and pictures from Stenton and she would say "Wow I can't believe this is her."

In the middle of my stay, Dr. Skyo left and Dr. Fisha replaced him. I never met one on one with Dr. Fisha. Not once. The only time I saw what she looked like was at the meeting when I was signed out. I thought it was strange she could evaluate me without actually speaking with me.

My mom would tell me later on that High Tower wanted to get a court order to involuntarily commit me to a facility an hour away from home or even possibly out of state.

When High Tower was planning to commit me to Ellis, another psych unit of a hospital, for a few months, they had to bring someone in from Ellis to evaluate me first. It was a man- young, maybe in his lower thirties. He came into my room to talk to me. He looked straight at me and asked me some questions. I remember one of the questions he asked was about my favorite music. I remember telling him some of my favorite singers. I told him how I just wanted to go home and get back to school again. He was nice and calm and he would later tell High Tower that he didn't think I should be going to Ellis and I should be going home. I guess they just disregarded what he said.

I remember there was a little refrigerator with milk and there was a drawer with graham crackers. I would snack on them a lot. There was a table near the refrigerator. I remember doing a puzzle there with a young man maybe in his late twenties. Apparently, I had given him my glasses. Later that day, my dad said when he and my mom arrived they didn't know where my glasses were. Then they saw that guy walking down the hall wearing my glasses. My dad said those are my daughter's glasses and the guy just said "Oh OK," and gave them back. I don't think at that point I really cared if I had my glasses or not.

There were days when I was completely out of it - days I don't even remember at all. My parents said during those days, they would bring dinner of burger and fries. They would try to feed me the fries and I would keep falling into the bed. I was barely conscious.

My friend Christine visited me one night. We all sat in the dining room. That was comforting. She brought me a bag of jolly ranchers, which I kept in my room. Kerri also visited me. I remember that I wasn't hungry and I gave her my dinner to eat. Kerri still remembers visiting me there.

My sister also visited me a lot. She wanted to see me get better as fast as possible. She brought things for me to do and to look at.

High Tower was very confusing. It was like I was just aimlessly wandering all around. There was no direction or plan, or at least not told to me. I felt like the staff there believed I had always behaved in this manner. I felt as if they didn't want to believe that I could be functional- have friends, drive, have a job, and study at Stenton. In psychology, past history is stressed. Patterns repeat themselves. The best way to predict the future, which you learn in the first psychology class you ever take, is the past. I had had a manic episode at Silva and recovered and went back to school again and functioned well. Why didn't they believe that was possible again? I felt misunderstood and just like I was walking around aimlessly.

I always felt lonely in there -like there was no one to stick up for me. Where was Dr. Nayar? Where was Michelle? Where was Maple? My parents and sister of course were there every step of the way, but doctors want information from experts, like other doctors and therapists. Everyone who could show how well I recovered, how well I did in 2005, and all those accomplishments I had made were not around.

There was a nurses' aide who was very tall with black hair. He would come into my room a lot. I think he tried to make me laugh. He would do funny things when taking my vitals and hide in the closet. He would cut up my waffles for me.

As to eating, I don't think I did much of it. I don't remember filling out anything on a menu or eating that much. I remember eating food my parents brought, and graham crackers and milk all day. They would bring the meals and leave them on the table.

There was a one-on-one who I kept telling her she looks like my friend, Jen. I kept saying, "You are Jen," because she reminded me of Jen and looked just like her. She drew a dragon paw print on a piece of paper because I had gone to Starbrooke High School and we were the dragons. She took a picture of me and showed it to me- it was a digital camera. I remember I looked really sick and out of it in the picture. She would play ping pong with me in the lounge room.

There was a Chinese Checkers game there I would just play with it by myself, just moving the balls around. I would move them around matching the colors.

The people at the desk treated me strangely. They wouldn't tell me anything and kind of acted like I wasn't even there, as if I was invisible.

I remember someone came in from NAMI, the same organization who had visited our psychology class. It was a man who was maybe in his 40s and he was bald. He showed a video and gave us information but I wasn't absorbing anything. I just couldn't really listen since I was all foggy and confused and I didn't even know where I was.

Also, in the hospital, I did not know who people were – everything was so blurry and confusing. As I said earlier, I had gone with Erika from Stenton in October to the mall and bought my mom a necklace with two girls with peridot stones representing my sister and I. I had given it to her for an X-mas present that year. She wore it every day and I would always make sure she had it on so I knew it was her. The medicine was strong and made me so foggy I couldn't even recognize people anymore. Everyone seemed blurry and far away. It was hard to even breathe.

I know I was psychotic. I thought I was dead. I thought that another patient was my Nan and I would follow her around. She had told my mom, "That's OK, I'll be her Nan while she is here." I was acting disoriented following people around, wandering around, throwing my clothes down chutes, and the list probably goes on and on. But that's how people act during manic psychotic episodes. Manic psychotic episodes do not last forever. People with bipolar disorder come out of it and usually go into depression afterwards. It isn't forever. The symptoms seem severe, but that is what it is like. There is no reason to put someone away because they have a severe manic psychotic episode. With proper medication and treatment they can recover and function normally.

It is also scary to think about what if I didn't have a supportive family. I would have never recovered. I would have never been out of a hospital. The meds were strong enough and they probably would have just gotten stronger and stronger. I had no psychiatrist or therapist to speak up for me. I would have been completely alone.

When my mom and sister signed me out against medical advice, I remember the meeting. It was supposed to be at 1:00PM. I wrote down over and over in my room...meeting at 1:00 with mom and Tiffany. The day felt so long waiting for them to get there. When they did get there I could see them through the glass. I kept waving to them and couldn't wait for them to come in. But Dr. Fisha was still eating her lunch so I had to wait longer. It was so frustrating.

When we did have the meeting we went into this room with a long table. I still remember exactly what it looked like but I don't remember what exactly was said.

There was another girl with Dr. Fisha. She had been there a lot. She had long brown hair and I thought she looked like me a lot. They had paperwork. I remember my mom saying she could get out of work and take a medical leave to stay home with me for a month and my sister saying she could watch me as well. Dr. Fisha was just saying ok and going over things. I didn't really get to know Dr. Fisha because even though she had been there a while, that was the first time I met her.

My sister later told me that before or during the meeting she asked the doctor why they wanted to keep me, and she said because I was hearing voices. My sister asked what kind of voices and another staff member looked in the notes and it said I was talking to my grandmother. My sister said I was probably talking spiritually to my Nan. My sister asked if they could prove there were any other occurrences or hearing voices or talking to people who weren't there. They could not.

My sister had brought a huge duffel bag and ran in my room and threw all my belongings inside as fast as she could and we left that place as fast as we could and never looked back.

After the meeting, I had to get my blood taken one more time. It felt like forever - I could not wait to leave there. We left as fast as we could. I have never gone back there to visit. I visited Maple and Well Hospital to let them know how they helped me and how well I was doing. I have never gone back to High Tower Hospital and I never will.

I could finally breathe again walking out of High Tower. We got in the car and stopped at my dad's work. I was walking and talking funny my mom had said. I do remember my dad gave me a big hug and was shocked that I made it out of there.

### Chapter 13: Completely Thrown Back

After leaving my dad's work, we went right home. During the time I was sick, my great Aunt Trudy had a serious operation and my mom was taking care of her. I stayed there with my mom either the first or second week. I remember feeling very out of it most of the time. My mom had to bring a special mattress pad because I was urinating in the bed every single night because of the medicines. I also couldn't talk right because I was on Haldol- it sounded like I had marbles in my mouth. I did start taking pictures again- of my mom, my great aunt, the snow outside, and my room. There are a few pictures of me in which I look like a complete zombie and my eyes are rolled back. I still have those pictures. They remind me of such a horrible time.

My mom wanted to find me a new psychiatrist. There was a psychiatrist in Starbrooke that we went to see. I was only there for a couple minutes until she ran out of her office screaming, "She needs to be in the hospital with these meds. I can't manage these!" It was a scary moment because it would be my worst nightmare to go back there to High Tower.

My mom then decided to call Dr. Nayar again and let him know what had happened. I was in the car when she called him. He asked what medicines I was on and my mom told him. I could hear him through my mom's cell phone saying, "Haldol? Get her off that immediately. She will go stiff!" He wanted to see me right away. I was shocked that he had no idea I was in the hospital and that High Tower had never once contacted him.

When we went for the appointment, it was sometime in February of 2006. I went into his office with my mom. There were patients in the waiting room. One of them told me that I looked like a current ice skater and that I was pretty. That made me feel good for the moment. Dr. Nayar had some papers on his desk that must have been my records from High Tower. He looked at them and threw them on his desk and said to me, "Melany what did they do to you?" shaking his head. I could see the sadness in his eyes. I could just feel how sincere he was and upset about what had happened. He completely threw out all the medicines I was on and prescribed Lithium, Lamictal, and Zyprexa again – what I had been writing with crayons on construction paper all throughout my stay at High Tower.

My mom had called Michelle and left a message that I was in High Tower Hospital when I was admitted but she never heard back from her again. We did not look into going to another therapist at the time. We were too focused on getting me functional again.

Once I was back on the meds, I improved rapidly- within a week or so. Dr. Skyo, the first doctor from High Tower, called my mom about paperwork she needed for her leave of absence. I talked to him too. He asked me if I was watching the winter Olympics and I told him I was watching the ice skating.

Due to my illness, I could no longer afford the car payments for my new car since I couldn't work anymore. My mom called the car company and explained what had happened and they gave me a two month deferment, which helped greatly. There is a max on how many deferments you can get – three. We later used the following two in later manic episodes.

Within the first month I was home, my roommates Laura, Dawn, and Emily came to visit. We met them at a nearby store and they followed us to my house. We had dinner, took pictures, and they brought me get well signs and gifts. It lifted my spirits tremendously.

I did start gaining weight again. I went up to about 140lbs. The yellow strapless dress for my sister's wedding, I had picked out back in November of 2005, when I was around 125lbs, did not fit me anymore. There still were a few weeks until the wedding and I decided I would fit into it by then. I exercised upstairs with my sister to videos and was very careful about what I ate. When I went for the next fitting, the dress fit perfectly.

My sister's bridal shower was about a month after I got out of the hospital and I had been back to my old meds again for at least two and half weeks by then. I was very excited for her shower. I had made her and Brian a really nice scrapbook which had pictures of them when they were children all the way up to their wedding invitation. It was therapeutic making that and they really liked it and my sister brought it to the bridal shower to show everyone.

During the bridal shower, I did very well. I helped decorate and set up. I also helped with the gifts. I saw Jen and Kerri, my neighbor friend Cathy, as well as all my relatives and family friends. My Aunt JoAnn said grace before everyone ate and she had mentioned me in it. She prayed I would continue to get better and reflected that I had been through a lot. Everyone still remembers that from the shower.

By March, my mom went back to work after her leave of absence was over and I was well enough to stay home alone. The very first day she went back to work, I called her the entire day crying that I missed her and I didn't feel right at home. The first week was very hard. I didn't know what to do alone. I tried coloring and watching TV, but I still felt upset.

Tiffany and Brian's wedding was in March. I was still on a lot of Zyprexa. I wish I had been healthier. It was a happy occasion but a long day for me. I did well though. I only got tired at the end around 8PM or so. I danced with Jen, Kerri, and Cathy. My Aunt Barbara, Uncle Ed and my cousin Eddie and his family came from Ohio to go to the wedding. It was a fun occasion and I was happy I was there and not in a hospital somewhere still sick. I did have fun and the wedding did go well. But no one expected me to be sick during her shower and her wedding. I feel that my being sick at that time made it harder for my sister at a time that was supposed to be so happy. Nonetheless, everything went well during the shower and wedding. Most importantly, I was able to be there.

I tried to work again to keep busy. I went back to Pizza-N-Games to work again but Travis would not hire me back. I wasn't really driving so I picked somewhere close. I chose Burger Joint. I went in and filled out an application and met with the manager. He said I could start a couple days later. I got up the day I was supposed to start working and just could not get ready and go. My mom called the manager and told him I just was unable to work.

I started having doubts about becoming a speech therapist. I thought I couldn't do it and that I wouldn't be any good at it. I looked into the career as a reading specialist, but for most jobs in that field you have to be a teacher first.

I even looked into being a teacher. I went with my mom and her boyfriend, Nelson, to a seminar on the education major program at Stenton but I decided against it because you have to be observed a lot and I can't talk in front of a large group of people, even if they are young.

About mid-March, I went into a depression that would last about two years. I cried every morning for two hours and just walked around the table in the kitchen. I slept in my mom's bed. She would leave for work around 8:45AM and I wouldn't get up until 11AM or so. When I woke up, I would feel awful and not like myself anymore. I didn't even recognize the way I looked or the way I was thinking. I just wasn't myself anymore.

During the spring, my sister suggested that we go to a lawyer to sign a, "power of attorney" stating that I do not want any shock therapy, regardless of the circumstances, when I am unable to speak for myself. It gave power of attorney to my mom and sister to speak for me that I do not want shock therapy. It made me feel safer and a little less scared at the time. Currently, I am not as scared of shock therapy as I used to be, but it is still comforting to have that in writing in case the issue ever comes up again.

I would go into stores and try on many shirts and jeans, and I would hate the way I looked in every single one. Getting back to the way I looked in 2005 was an obsession. But no matter what I tried on, I thought I looked fat and ugly and abnormal in them. Going shopping for clothes was something I wanted to do so I could look healthy, but it was so frustrating, and no matter what I bought I thought I looked stupid in it.

I thought a lot about Stenton. The reality of what had happened hit me all at once. Then, because the initial getting home from the hospital was over and the excitement of the wedding was over too, my thoughts turned to Stenton. I thought I should be with my roommates Laura, Emily, and Dawn, and going to all my classes. I kept looking at the schedule I was supposed to be doing at college – Aural Rehab, Introduction to Music, Phonetics, and Darwin and Mendel. Jill, Juanita and Erika were taking Aural Rehab and Phonetics. I hated myself so much for getting sick and missing out on classes, friends, and just being on campus and having things to do. I missed the apartment and walking the path to and from classes. I missed going to the gym there. I missed everything about Stenton.

My roommates kept In touch with me and kept me up to date on what was going on. Laura set it up that I would room again next year with her. She let me know when the fall schedule of classes came out. It was only March. The fall semester seemed so far away.

I did volunteer at the hospital where my mom works in the outpatient therapy department. I helped out in the physical therapy area and got to observe speech therapy sometimes. I still didn't feel confident that I could be a speech therapist. I went to volunteer for a couple weeks and then I stopped. I just didn't feel like doing anything anymore.

Every day seemed to just go into the next day. On the outside, I didn't seem depressed but I would cry every morning for two hours. Every day was a struggle. I started gaining weight again because all I did from 1:00PM to 6:00PM every day was sleep in my mom's bed and listen to the TV and eat chips.

Around that time, I started getting financial help from social services. Bipolar disorder is considered a disability. I would go and sign papers every month and I would get around $140 a month or so. It helped a little bit but I was still depressed.

The medicines were heavy and I was afraid to drive again. All of my earnings from working at Silva the year before were spent now on my new car and the car just sat outside. I might have driven a couple times to the store, but that was it. My sister ended up using my car because she had to fix hers a lot. I would not drive my car again until spring of 2008. It was depressing staring at my car in the driveway and not driving. That was the car I was planning to learn how to drive down to Stenton. It was supposed to be for a happy time, not for a time of deep depression that followed mania.

I didn't like the way I looked anymore. During 2005, I was happy with how I looked. I was happy with my weight and my clothes. I had so much confidence and felt so happy and comfortable. Everything felt right then.

Because I hated the way I looked, I focused on pictures of me. I thought that was the difference. I looked constantly at my recent scrapbooks and thought if I looked like that again I would feel confident again. I took lots of pictures trying to look and feel like the happier times. But nothing changed.

I felt so fat and so ugly and just not like myself anymore. I hated myself. All the confidence I had built from Turning Key Recovery Center and starting Stenton and getting better, was completely lost. I was worse than I had ever been.

The months of April, May, June, and July were the same. I did try to feel better. I went to the Local Fitness a lot to swim. I even decided to take a lifeguarding course to be a lifeguard. It seemed like a goal I could work towards. The lifeguarding certification required swimming back and forth about twenty times, all different styles. I would go at least three times a week and practice that. It kept me busy and gave me something to work towards. The class was in June and it was very hard and stressful. I didn't really like it that much.

I tried working at a clothing store down the street but I was unable to work – just not healthy. Also, I did not want to have a cashier job, as I would get nervous in front of people. My anxiety and depression were especially high around that time. I had no confidence and my plans to go to school again were months away. I even had a paper where I calculated how many days until Stenton. I put it on the refrigerator and followed it for a while- I remember feeling very depressed seeing that going back to college was around 130 days or more.

I spent a lot of time at home where we had two pets at the time – Dusty and Crystal. Dusty was one of my beloved dogs and Crystal is the Persian cat that we still have today. I understand why people turn their dogs into therapy dogs. It is very therapeutic and comforting to have pets. You feel like they are so loyal to you and they make great company. My pets have always helped me in difficult times.

In June, I decided to try therapy again. I went to a website to see what therapists were available and took my insurance. We decided on Vicky, whose office was about a half hour away. I went to her for a couple of months. Each session was only about 15 to 20 minutes and she always had to leave and do something. She was nice - there was nothing wrong with her but it seemed like we just talked about things on the surface and just what I was doing. I didn't seem to gain anything out of it. She ended up canceling two or three Saturdays in a row and I just kind of stopped going.

In July, we decided to get a pool. I was going to go in it every day and just lay out on a raft and read. However, I only felt like going into it a couple times that summer. I just would rather sleep in bed or just feel bad for myself looking at my scrapbooks of when I was so happy, just a year earlier. My dad and sister went into the pool a lot though, so at least we got some use out of it.

In August, my mom and I visited my friend Christine in Brooke City, PA. We went for a couple days. We took a bus there. The trip was fun. We did a lot. We went out to eat and walked around the University of Brooke City. It was fun but it wasn't like the year before. I just felt that I was not the same person at all. I didn't really like any of the pictures with me in them and I thought I wasn't the same anymore like I used to be. But it was nice getting to catch up with Christine again and it did give me a lift.

In late August, I started preparing to go back to Stenton. I was excited and I felt that I would feel great once I got going again. I had everything I was going to take with me sitting for weeks downstairs, just getting all ready – clothes, notebooks, picture frames.... I talked to Laura about what apartment we were going to be in and what her schedule was like. She had a heavy schedule – a lot of psych classes as she was planning to be a psychologist. Her friend Amanda from another class was going to be a roommate and then our 4th roommate would be placed by the college. Dawn and Emily were not rooming on campus that year.

I wasn't really nervous about starting again \- just eager to start. I had been waiting so long to get back into the swing of things. Brian, my sister, and my mom helped me move in. I brought all the same pictures and decorations with me and I tried to set up the room exactly the way it looked in fall semester of 2005. I even put my pens and my picture frames in the same exact spot they had been in the year before. I thought maybe that would help me feel like I had the felt previous year- smart, confident, and with a healthy self-image.

The first week, I went to all my classes and got my books. It was easy to get back into school again. I kept up on the homework and the tests. However, I never did gain that healthy body image or confidence back. It wasn't anyone's fault- I was still rooming with Laura and the other roommates were nice. I liked my teachers and classmates. But I just felt kind of blah and empty and just not how I felt previously.

I liked Phonetics. It was one of my favorite classes. I liked how the sounds form words and how to break words down into sounds. My other classes were good too. I took more speech classes. However, I just wasn't the same anymore.

On the outside, I seemed fine. I went to my classes. I went shopping. I wasn't moping around or sleeping a lot. I wasn't crying as many hours a day as I had when I was at home. I was very tired though and I did take a nap every day from 9AM to 11AM depending on my schedule. When it was time for my next class, sometimes I just didn't feel like going, like I just wasn't up to getting up and walking all the way there. It was quite different from I felt the previous fall. I kept comparing the way I felt now to the way I felt then, and trying to figure out how to get back to my old self.

I decided to try and lose weight. I was about 144lbs that fall. I went to a nutritionist on campus and she told me to write everything down that I ate. She suggested things like cereal for breakfast, a banana and a piece of bread with peanut butter for lunch, yogurt for snacks, and beans, chicken, and vegetables for dinner. She also suggested fish oil vitamins for bipolar disorder but they all were too big for me to swallow.

I did lose about six lbs initially, but then I just stayed at the same weight. I was eating the right things but I had no energy or desire to exercise or go to the gym. It was frustrating that I could not lose weight.

I also went to the fitness coordinator and she made up an exercise routine for me, but I never tried it. I just wasn't into exercising anymore.

I don't remember when, or if, I told the other roommates I had bipolar disorder. Laura knew of course but I don't think I told many people that year. I did tell my psychology teacher, Jessica, because bipolar disorder had to do with psychology, and every psychology professor would be familiar with it. I think I may have told Dr. Samuel, the speech director that year as well.

I started counseling at the wellness center in fall of 2006, with Stephanie. I would go every two weeks and just talk about how I was feeling and what was going on. I showed her lots of pictures and tried to explain everything I had been through since Silva. She was nice and helpful. I did get very upset once because I just didn't feel right- I started crying hysterically in her office but we called my mom at work together and I felt better. I was just depressed.

In October, our beloved dog Dusty passed away so we got a new kitten and named her Cloe. She is grey and we still have her today. Having a new kitten lifted my spirits a little bit which was nice.

I kept in touch with Erika and Juanita – my friends from speech. They were in classes I couldn't take yet since I had missed the spring semester. They were interested in how I was feeling and how my classes were going. We always kept in touch even though we didn't go to the same classes anymore.

In the computers class, we had to pick a topic to present at the end of the semester. I chose bipolar disorder. It was hard making the presentation- developing it. I did well at presenting it and even explained my personal experience with it. I put certain quotes in the presentation that I thought really captured bipolar disorder.

I ended up getting a 4.0 GPA again that semester so academically I was doing great. I started thinking about grad schools for speech. I was kind of just living either in the past or in the future. I wasn't really there at all the entire year. I wasn't really enjoying the present anymore.

My mom and I decided to go to a lawyer for me to get disability for when I am unable to work. The lawyer had to get lots of records to prepare the case. He was nice and he had a big office. It takes a while to get approved for it so we didn't have the hearing until summer of 2008. I ended up getting Supplemental Security Income disability of almost $400 a month after the long process was completed.

### Chapter 14: Still Going Through the Motions

I went to Dr. Nayar that fall. There was no change in meds. He thought I was doing good especially with school. Everything was stable in my life – nothing out of the ordinary.

He would often give me a prescription for a Lithium drug test. It is when they draw blood and determine if the Lithium level is therapeutic. Mine usually is. I just hate needles and looking at blood.

Winter break came. The spring semester started. Everything just was the same. Every day was just a repeat of the day before. I went to classes and studied. My roommates were nice. Laura always had good advice for me. There was one day when I was just very upset and tired and I slept that Sunday all afternoon and all night. My mom had called. Laura was very concerned and woke me up and was concerned about me that entire week. I just wasn't myself or feeling up to things.

I did really enjoy the Intro to Music class in spring of 2007. We listened to all types of music - mostly classical. It reminded me of when I played piano and it was relaxing to listen to. I met a friend, in there as well, who I kept in touch with the following year. My other classes were speech classes. They were good as well, but I just didn't feel like myself or able to enjoy them like I would have in 2005. I just had no confidence in anything.

I gained a lot of weight in 2007. My weight went up to almost 160lbs. Nothing fit right and I didn't really want to buy anything new because I couldn't fit into the same clothes. I would buy tops but hated buying jeans. Everything I did buy I charged because I wasn't working.

When we went to Dr. Nayar in the spring, we lowered the Zyprexa, the med that makes me gain weight. Everything else stayed the same. I didn't mention how depressed I was because at the time I thought it was normal for me to feel like that. It wasn't until I felt better that I realized how depressed I really was.

In March of 2007, I decided to try therapy again. We looked on my insurance website and there were about 300 names of therapists in Maple County. The list was exhausting- who would I choose? I gave my mom the list and she just called the very first name- Dr. Ann Venna. When she called, Dr. Venna said that she isn't taking any more patients but her coworker, Dr. Gail Stevens, was accepting new patients and she recommended we call her.

My mom called Gail and left a message about making an appointment. Gail called back and explained where her office was and how to get there.

I went on Saturdays because I went to school during the week. In the summer when home from school, I could go on week nights or Saturdays.

The first appointment we drove to the office. It's in Sunrise Beach, right near the ocean. We walked in and there was a big waiting room and three offices. I remember sitting on the couch thinking I'm not even sure I want to try therapy again. But my mom and I were anxious to see if maybe it would work out well, and maybe I would get better, and get back to being healthy again. It turns out I would end up going to Gail for six years and would continue seeing her till today.

The first half of 2007 I worked with Gail on general things like learning more about my illness. It takes me a while to share things with people- I tend to just keep things inside. Yet, towards the end of 2007 until now, I would share anything and everything with Gail, and she would always be there to help me, no matter what. She would be there for four major manic episodes, a hypomanic episode, at least four episodes of depression, anxiety, and good times and accomplishments in between. She would be there for my first jobs, first boyfriends since being sick, when I felt up to that again, my CPC exam for coding, and even new pets.

At my first visit with Gail, she came out, and shook our hands and introduced herself. She looked nice- she has brown hair and brown eyes and was dressed very professional. My mom and I both went into her office. She had a paper to take notes on. We explained the entire story from the beginning, starting with Silva. It took almost the entire session because three years had passed and so much had happened. There were two episodes, two hospital visits, and medications to explain. Gail took a lot of notes and listened carefully to everything that we had said. We made another appointment for two weeks from then.

We walked out of the office with a generally good feeling about it and I decided I would go to the next appointment.

While going to Gail for the next several years, I also got to know her two co-workers sharing the offices. One is Dr.Phin, and the other is Dr. Covy, two psychologists who would always say hello my mom and I. They seem intelligent and very professional like Gail. It was nice feeling comfortable in the waiting room section of the office for every appointment.

The next two weeks at school were the same as every other week had been that year. Just studying, going to classes, and coming home on the weekends.

Soon, it was time for the next appointment with Gail. I brought my scrapbooks and photos to show her. I wanted her to see how healthy and confident I once was, so we could work on bringing me back to that point again somehow. I explained which years were my favorite years and which were my worst. Thinking back, I don't think it was necessary to show her every single picture since 2004, but it helped me. In some way it was therapeutic. She looked at each picture I showed her and asked many questions. She was genuinely interested in helping me get healthy.

Back in 2006, I began writing a journal where I would write down what I did that day, and rate the day from 1 to 10, with 1 meaning a bad day and 10 meaning the best day. I can look back at my journals and find patterns. I can look back and compare how I was feeling to how I was eating, or what things I was doing when I was content, or which things I was not doing when I was depressed. I would only write a few lines but it helped, especially during my appointments with Gail, because I was very quiet initially in therapy and that was the way Gail could see what I did and how I was feeling. Even now, sometimes I am tired or I don't feel right when I go to Gail, and she can read the journal to see how I am doing.

Every therapy appointment up to today, except for one when I forgot to bring it, Gail has read my journal to see how things are going. Because I have been going to her for 6 years, she has read over 2000 entries, one for each day.

Gail asked me general questions at first to get to know me and develop a relationship. I told her about my family, about my major at college, and things I liked to do. We touched on the bipolar disorder and what it was like in the hospital but we didn't just jump into it and go deep on the second session. I liked that she tried getting to know me and listened well to everything I said before we went too deeply into the bipolar times because it was a lot to talk about.

I didn't tell her how depressed I had been that year. I kind of focused on the time when I was the happiest and why I was happy. I had said that I didn't feel like I used to but didn't go into too much of how I hadn't felt like myself for so long. I said how there were times I was very healthy and happy and times I wasn't. I wanted to figure out how to be healthy all the time. She listened to everything I said and gave me general advice on everything.

The rest of the spring semester of 2007, I continued to gain more weight as I was sleeping a lot and not exercising at all. I liked my classes but I was kind of just going through the motions. I loved sleeping. I would still sleep every morning from 9AM to 11AM depending on my schedule. I would continue writing in my journal and going to Gail. I didn't really want the spring to start because I just preferred it being dark outside because that is how I felt. I just felt blah.

I ended up picking out my classes for the fall of 2007. It would end up being a heavy schedule which would require me to stay five days a week instead of four days. I planned to take Clinic I, Language Disorders, Psychology of Well-Being, Phonology, and Diagnostic Methods. I was looking forward to all those classes.

I was still planning to be a speech therapist but I just did not have the confidence. At that point, I was starting to think about other careers related to speech therapy.

I even went to another college for an open house to find out more about going to school for teaching. Again, I didn't feel like I would be good at it so I decided against it.

Laura graduated that spring and invited me and my mom to attend her graduation. Afterwards, we had dinner with her family. Because Laura had graduated, my roommates the following fall semester would all be people I did not know. I would find out my new roommates during the summer for the following year.

### Chapter 15: A Blah Summer

I continued going to Gail all summer. We talked about basic things like how everything was going, what I was doing, and about managing bipolar disorder and the medications. It would not be until the following spring, that I would tell her how depressed I was feeling. It takes me awhile to trust and open up to people, especially about being depressed.

In summer '07, I began to get frustrated again with how much I weighed. I desperately wanted to lose weight. I had tried the nutritionist and it didn't really work well because I was on medicines that cause weight gain, like Zyprexa. I tried eating less and less and began seeing the weight go down. Sometimes in that summer, I would only eat once or twice a day but I did begin to lose weight finally and I was very happy and relieved about that.

In summer '07, I began volunteering at Path Nursing Home, which I would work at a couple years later. I went every Monday and started driving there myself. It was only five minutes away but I feared driving still. I drove through the neighborhood and only had to cross one highway to get there.

I enjoyed volunteering at Path Nursing Home. I made coffee for the residents and played word games with them. They were just so happy to talk to me and spend time with me. They would still remember me years later. I brought my mom there so she could meet the residents. I did go back one time with my mom in fall of 2007 to talk to them again and update them on how I was doing. They were all very happy to see me.

I also started playing my piano at home during the summer. I went to a class at a local music store and learned how to play Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. It was relaxing to play. The piano had just been sitting there since I was 12 or 13 with no one to play it. I would play it a lot that summer.

I continued taking lots of pictures and making scrapbooks in summer '07. I made a scrapbook for Christine of her 21st birthday at a nice restaurant. I bought lots of stickers and decorated the scrapbook with celebration stickers such as balloons and confetti and cake.

I also made a scrapbook for my mom's friend, Marge, from work of her retirement party. I spent hours on it, cutting construction paper, planning on what pages the picture would go, and decorating each page with stickers. It kept me busy and I loved making scrapbooks. Giving scrapbooks as gifts was a good incentive for me to keep making them because it was something I really enjoyed.

I also made photo albums for my sister and Brian's birthdays, both of which are in the summer. I went with my sister to a few of Brian's baseball games. For his birthday I made him an album of pictures from his games, with stickers like baseballs and sports. I made my sister scrapbooks of our cats. Scrapbooking is something that always lifts my mood and makes me feel valuable and like I am good at something.

I was always self-conscious about if I looked right or not. I would always imagine myself ugly, fat, and repulsive looking- especially my face. I would try on all different clothes to decide in what clothes I looked the most normal in. I would have my mom take pictures of me every time before I would leave the house. It became such a habit that I never really thought how unhealthy it was to do that.

It took years to stop analyzing myself in such detail. I finally decided that being me is the best I can be. I stopped focusing so much on what I looked like and what I was wearing. I would go to a great hair stylist- Cathy. I still go to her today. She would always do a great job – such as highlights in the summer and a deep dark brown color in the winter. She would also do my hair for events such as weddings. But I always hated the way I looked so much that it got in the way of enjoying my hair styles and feeling pretty and normal.

My body image has changed since then. I'm beginning to like myself more - _finally_. I'm beginning to realize that all I can do is try to look healthy, take care of myself, and not dwell on my appearance. I think appearance is important to look neat and put together, but I do not obsess over it anymore. I never wanted to look gorgeous or beautiful – just overall healthy and normal.

My dad, my mom, and I went to Shoreline (where we had gone often when my sister and I were little) for a weekend in June. It brought back many good memories. We went to the beach, went out to restaurants, and walked on the boardwalk. I missed going to the beach – lying on the sand, putting my feet in the ocean, breathing in the salt air...

In August, I volunteered at a special needs school to gain experience in speech therapy. It was a little bit too far from my house for me to feel comfortable driving all the way there, so I took a taxi. The taxi cab drivers who drove me back and forth were always surprised when they saw that there was a car in my driveway. But I was scared to drive and did not want to.

I learned a lot from the speech therapist, Cara. I even went on a trip with the kids. I learned a lot but at the same time I kept thinking, I can't do this. Cara would have to do the feeding and assist the kids with cerebral palsy in the right food consistency and swallowing. It seemed really hard but I didn't want to give up or change my major. I began making huge binders from everything of speech therapy, from phonetics to stuttering to swallowing. I spent hours researching and organizing speech topics. I wanted to be prepared.

The summer of 2007 was not awful. I had mostly blah days but also some good days. I did not get too depressed or manic. But it was still kind of blah. I saw friends here and there. I would go with friends from high school out to dinner or hang out but I mostly just spent time alone.

When we went to Dr. Nayar, I explained how much I wanted to go off the Zyprexa because of how it was affecting my weight. Dr. Nayar lowered the Zyprexa from 5 to 2.5. I was happy with that decision. The summer had not been bad, but had been kind of blah. I was looking forward to the fall.

### Chapter 16: Fall 2007 – Feeling a Little Less Blah

I was ready for fall 2007. I knew I had a heavy caseload and would be studying a lot, but I was excited to start. I bought some new clothes for school. I was still a little heavy in the 140s. Brian, my sister, and my mom drove me to school. It was time to move in. I was still in the new apartment I had been in the last two years which was nice.

I moved in a night before the night the girls had gotten there. I set up my room. I was excited for the semester to start. I brought healthy foods to eat. However, I started drinking diet soda non-stop. I would continue that habit for years.

The following day I met my roommate, Amy, first. Then April and Colleen came later. They all seemed very nice and easy to get along with. Amy's parents took all of us out for dinner that night and we got to know each other. Amy was studying accounting. April wanted to be a physical therapist. And Colleen was studying marine biology.

The next day I went to the bookstore with Amy and got all my books. I logged onto my online classes and saw the assignments. I think I started reading the assignments right away and began highlighting the text books. Things were going great.

Then the night before classes came and I couldn't sleep. I was tossing and turning and could not fall asleep. The next morning, I called my mom and she said to go see Stephanie, my counselor at Stenton. I went to the counseling center. Stephanie seemed alarmed and said to call the doctor and let him know. I don't think there was any medication adjustment as I did start sleeping well again a couple days later.

I called Gail and left a message that I was not sleeping well. She called me back right away and told me not to worry and that I will sleep and everything will be ok. I was very relieved and did sleep a little bit better that night, though not completely. The next couple of nights I tried taking over the counter sleep aids and making tea. It was because Gail had called me back so quickly and helped me feel calm enough so that I could sleep that I began trusting her more and telling her more about everything I felt.

I do remember that I did start panicking in my classes because of the loss of sleep. In my Diagnostic Methods class, I went up to my teacher Linda and told her that I have bipolar disorder. I told her I was not sleeping well but I should make it to the next class. I was so afraid that I had made a bad impression as I did not know this teacher at all. She was accepting and did not look down on me because I had bipolar disorder. I did well in her classes all year.

I even told the Psychology of Well-Being teacher, Dr. Jahno, as well. He was concerned and said to just relax and wind down and I should be able to sleep. He was very nice and I would learn a lot from that class.

I particularly liked the Psychology of Well-Being class. It focused on different aspects of what it is to be well. We did a project at the end of the class where we wrote a paper about ourselves – everything about ourselves such as what our goals are, what we are studying, do we exercise, and things we overcame. I loved writing the paper but was nervous because we had to present it. So I made two poster boards with all pictures on it of my family, friends and hobbies and passed it around. I said a few things, but mostly focused on the poster and let the other students learn about me through pictures rather than me talking.

Other people in the class started their presentation with, "I don't like to talk in front of anyone." Dr. Jahno did not get disappointed or upset – he understood that not everyone likes to present things, and we all just did whatever we felt comfortable with. I learned a lot from that class. It was one of my favorite classes I had taken at Stenton.

I started taking yoga with my roommate Amy. It was offered at the student center near the apartments. I really liked it and the music was very relaxing. I started learning all the poses such as downward dog and child's pose. It was calming and afterwards I felt very de-stressed. Amy and I went every Monday the entire fall semester. We used pink yoga mats I had gotten. I would continue yoga for years- even on the beach by where I live.

I began seeing a nutritionist again at Stenton. I was fed up with my weight and wanted to lose weight. She gave me lots of information and said to write down everything I ate. I decided to start walking too. I would walk on the track almost every day even if it were raining a little or freezing cold out. I weighed myself all day long and ended up only drinking chocolate soy milk and having oatmeal or rice. I was determined to lose the weight, finally. By the end of fall semester, I had lost some weight.

I was still seeing Dr. Nayar during this time. I continued on the Lithium, Lamictal and Zyprexa – no major changes.

I made friends in my classes. There were a lot of nice people. I would talk a lot with my one friend Ross. We would end up taking two classes together that year. He was just a friend and we mostly talked about our classes a few minutes before the professor would get there.

I continued going to Gail every other Saturday. I would bring all my papers and exams to show her how well I was doing. She would tell me that I was very intelligent and I was doing great and I would be an excellent speech therapist. She gave me confidence. She was concerned about how little I was eating. But I kept trying to explain to her and to the nutritionist Kim that with the medicines I am on, it is extremely hard to lose weight- different from a person who is not on these meds. However, a couple years later I would try losing weight in more healthy ways, and even go to a dietitian who would be trained in figuring out how to lose weight when on psychiatric medications, where weight gain is a side effect.

At our house, my sister had a pocketbook party one weekend. A lot of my sister's and my mom's friends came to it. It was fun. We would have parties like that every once in a while.

I visited the nursing home I used to volunteer at. My mom went with me. I got to catch up with residents I had gotten to know over the summer.

The professors at Stenton are very involved with their students because it is a small to medium sized school. Linda, the diagnostics professor, had a party at her house for the speech pathology students. I went with a friend from class. She had lots of food. It was a fun time.

I was taking Clinic I at the time, which requires observing speech therapy sessions in the college clinic and writing a paper on a speech disorder topic. It made me nervous. Every time I observed, I thought that is going to be me in there next semester. I would hyperventilate and dread it. But at the same time, I had invested so much time into all my speech classes that I wanted to move forward with it.

At one point in my journal, I wrote that if a parent ever got upset at me as a speech therapist, I would quit the job. I was very anxious about being a speech therapist.

I was now also having trouble breathing. It was kind of like hyperventilating. I felt like the breaths of air I was taking in wouldn't go all the way down, like I was gasping for fresh air. This is a typical symptom of anxiety.

### Chapter 17: Deep Depression

During winter break of 2007-2008 I began to feel very depressed. I would cry a lot for no reason, sometimes for hours straight. I did not really tell anyone, except my mom and Gail. No one else had any idea. The depression was consuming me every second of the day, and I just did not feel very healthy.

The depression was much deeper than the way I had been depressed the past year. I thought about death every day, and also a lot about what happens when you die. I even envisioned how I would look at my wake – what I would be wearing. I felt worthless, stupid, fat, and ugly. I kept thinking, I wish it were eighty years from now because then I wouldn't be here anymore. I figured that since I was in my twenties I had done one quarter of my life and had to get the next three quarters of my life over with.

I had absolutely no confidence. I had no will to even try. I was done. I would be happy just going on disability and never leaving my house. I was just done. I was so sad and would become overwhelmed with emotion. I wrote numerous times in my journal that I wanted to "sleep forever." I wrote that I didn't like it here. Again, the only people I told were my mom and Gail.

It was hard to tell Gail that I would cry all day and wished I were dead. I did always stress I would never hurt myself but I still had those feelings. I never did say "Gail, I don't feel right - I wish I were dead and it were eighty years from now," - until years later. However, I was able to write it down, and I trusted giving my journal to Gail to read it when I couldn't say those things out loud. She did ask if I was ever thinking about hurting myself and I was clear that I wasn't.

Instead of telling Gail my depressive thoughts, I wrote them in my journal. I couldn't say that to her, but I felt comfortable enough to show her that through my journal. I could have just kept saying, "I'm fine and everything is great," but after going to her for more than a year, I wrote in my journal all the things that were bothering me so I wouldn't have to say it out loud. I couldn't say it out loud.

Also, I started listening to very sad music. It helped me. The songs were about sadness and pain, but also inspiring like there would be a light at the end of the tunnel. Even now when I am not particularly sad, I listen to sad music. It is just comforting and I like meaningful and deep lyrics.

One time when I was shopping, I decided to get some new make-up. The cosmetic worker Dawn was there. She fit me for foundation. I would continue buying foundation, lip gloss, and eye shadow from Dawn for years. She would always call about products and events and would always give me new samples. I was still in a deep depression at that time but getting new make-up gave me a little lift.

During winter break, I prepared for Clinic II for the spring semester as much as possible. I got tons of material and made my first lesson plan. I would have to do speech therapy once a week for 45min sessions, with students observing the sessions. I was so nervous. I thought about the first session I would have to do, all day every day. I was full of fear of having to run a therapy session, and be videotaped and observed at the same time. That dread made me even more depressed.

I tried to believe I could do it and prepare as much as possible. I showed Gail my plans and materials. She said I would do great. But, of course, I didn't think I would. I never thought I would be great at anything. Yet, it was encouraging to hear when someone believed in me.

The next semester I would start Clinic II. It was on Wednesdays. I would prepare practically the whole week and then start worrying on Sunday about the session. I didn't like being video-taped and observed, which is how students learned from you and how the clinic instructor graded your session. It just made me so nervous and uneasy.

I took my senior pictures around that time. After I got them, I believed I did not look good in them at all and would later get them retaken. I felt that I just didn't look right or normal. Those feelings would linger here and there in my life. It's an awful feeling and no matter how I would try I couldn't overcome it.

I had been thinking a lot about grad schools for master's programs in speech pathology. At first, I wanted to go to a program on-campus. Later, I decided an online program would be best. I ended up applying to a program called Hampton in Florida, where I could complete their entire program online- and just go down there once, to get started with everything. I was so excited about getting into Hampton. I told my mom and my roommates right away and left a message on Gail's voicemail. She was very happy as well.

My teacher Barbara, after I disclosed I had bipolar disorder, recommended me to Mark Ress, who was the person involved in disabilities on campus. She said I could even get financial support.

I went to Mark Ress after Barbara had suggested it to me and spoke with him. He was extremely friendly and genuine. He said he had actually been trying to get in touch with me for a while. He thought it was awesome how I had a 4.0 and was doing so well with speech and trying to apply to grad school. He said my college could have been paid for by a vocational rehab program, but it couldn't pay for past semesters. However, it could get me money for my grad school. He contacted the vocational rehab program closest to my house and we made an appointment there. I was very excited that I could get financial support because grad school is very expensive.

The vocational rehab program I was referred to helps people with disabilities go to school by supporting them financially and by paying for tuition and books. I went to the appointment that spring and met my counselor Melissa. We went over my history, diagnosis, goals, and Hampton, which was the grad school I was planning on attending online. She said they could supply me money towards books and a high percentage of the tuition. My mom and I were very thankful to Barbara and Mark Ress for suggesting the program.

Amy's dad started taking Amy and me once or twice a week out to eat. He would treat me every time. Sometime Amy's dad's friends would go as well. We always had a fun time and would talk about many different things and how school was going. I always felt grateful that her dad would treat me to dinner every week. It was nice of him. It would make me feel better and distract me from the depression I was going through. Other than that, I just studied and walked around the track for exercise.

I was still having trouble sleeping – especially before the day I had to do the clinic. I would try and lie in bed and fall asleep. Then I would get up while my roommates were sleeping and lie on the couch and put the TV on. I would always get so upset when I couldn't sleep. I would call my mom on her cell phone in the middle of the night and tell her I couldn't fall asleep. She would say just try and relax and you will fall asleep. I usually fell asleep by around 3:30AM or so. I hated the feeling of not being able to fall asleep. It was awful and still is.

Dr. Nayar had retired and I started going to see Dr. Kadam who was connected to Maple as well. In March, we went to him for the first time. He was very tall and intelligent. We went over my background and we told him how I was very depressed. He ended up prescribing for me Lexapro- an antidepressant I had never tried before. It would begin to work, because by the summer I was feeling great again and full of energy.

He also took me off the Zyprexa, as he says it causes weight gain. He said he planned to decrease Lithium and increase Lamictal. At one point around that time, he prescribed me Trazodone to take at night in order to help me sleep. Trazodone is an anti-depressant but also has sedative effects. It did work well. He said to start with 50mg and if needed, take up to 150mg.

The antidepressant Lexapro that Dr. Kadam prescribed worked well. Within four to five weeks I was starting to feel better. The dosage was a small amount, but it really worked. By May, Gail noticed a big change in me. I was smiling and laughing more and just felt good about myself and my life.

I continued losing weight during the summer of 2008 and I got down to my healthy weight- about 125lbs. Weight loss gave me some confidence and by the summer I was starting to feel better.

### Chapter 18: Finally Feeling Better

Towards the end of the semester, the speech director Dr. Samuel had his annual speech party. My parents came to Stenton and drove me to his house. It was fun. I was proud of all I had accomplished, especially doing Clinic II. I wasn't graduating that spring but because I planned on taking two summer classes and Clinic III in the fall, I was included in the party. He had lots of food and we took an annual picture.

I had done great in all my classes. I got a 4.0. I enjoyed the last couple weeks of school. I was taking a class called Schools of the Future. I particularly enjoyed this class. The teacher was very intelligent and we covered so much. I even wrote a research paper for the class. My friend Ross, from my fall class, sat next to me in this class and we worked on assignments together. I started enjoying my classes more and realizing what a great schedule I had.

I started to feel a lift on the depression – it's hard to describe. It is kind of like when your glasses get fogged up and you take a cloth and make them clear again. I felt less depressed, less anxious, and less foggy.

I was starting to get interested in shopping and clothes again. I got some new sweaters for the spring and new shoes. I started liking the way I looked again – especially because I had lost all the weight. My taste in music changed – I liked more upbeat songs and more songs from the radio – not just CDs.

At home, I began hanging out with Christine a lot on the weekends. She had graduated from The University of Brooke City. She had suffered a bad attack from a pit-bull a few months earlier that damaged her arm. My mom and I brought her little gifts and food, such as donuts, to make her and her boyfriend feel better. I suggested she make an appointment with the vocational rehab program I was going to because of her arm injury, and she received money and books and a laptop from them.

I would go over to Christine's house on the weekends and we would cook recipes. Christine even came to Stenton one weekend and went out with Amy, April, and I to lunch. She got to see the apartment and meet my roommates.

I started to believe in myself more. I was towards the end of completing the speech clinic. I realized I had only gotten good feedback from the clinic supervisor. I felt like I had accomplished a huge goal. I finally realized what an accomplishment I had made – especially about two weeks before my last session.

I continued going out with Amy and her dad to restaurants. We would still meet his friends a lot. I had fun and I started to feel like I wasn't just going through the motions.

Gail saw a huge change in me and we knew that the Lexapro was working. I was less anxious and the depression had lifted. I was looking forward to things and I felt like I had made huge accomplishments the past year.

I would be on and off Lexapro in the future. However, it was a catch-22 being on Lexapro. As much as it helped me, it would often induce mania. Research shows that Lexapro does work as an antidepressant but can induce mania in a matter of months, which had happened to me twice in future trials. I am currently on Lexapro today because it is a low dose and balances well with other medicines.

I started making plans for the summer with Amy and Christine. I was getting ready for the speech master's program. I decided I had a lot to look forward to and was going to go ahead with the speech program

I did stay at Stenton the very last weekend because April had asked Amy and I to spend our last weekend of the semester there. We relaxed and watched movies. I was a little sad about that being my last days at Stenton because I had so many good memories there and would miss it. I was also looking forward to the future as well.

Looking back on my journal entries, I did notice that I started writing really long and detailed entries. Usually, I write a couple lines about what I did during the day and rate the day. During the end of spring and, the beginning of summer of 2008, my entries filled up an entire page, and then some. I believed this might have been hypomania, a mild form of mania, and may have foreshadowed the mania that was to come in August.

In order to graduate in December, I took two summer classes – Chemistry and Night. They were entirely online. The chemistry class was a basic class that I needed to fulfill a requirement. It was easy for me because I had studied chemistry at Silva. The night class was about different topics such as witchcraft, legends, and folklore. It was very interesting. I enjoyed both classes.

Christine and I did a lot together in summer of 2008. We continued to cook a lot and were into trying different recipes. We would go to the beach. At the time, she had just bought a house with her boyfriend and was still in the process of decorating it. It was nice having a close friend around to spend time with.

I also went out a lot with my mom and her work friends, Gale and Marge. We would go out to the diner and catch up on everything that was going on. Gale and Marge were always very interested in how I was doing and were genuinely concerned. They would be there while I was healthy and also in future episodes. They would get me gifts for my birthday and the holidays. Gale would give me puzzles to do when I was in recovery from a manic episode.

I also started driving in the summer of 2008. I felt I was ready. My mom ended up teaching me. It was hard at first but then I got used to it. Christine also helped me learn to drive. I would start with driving to really close places, then try driving a little further. Driving also increased my confidence in myself because it was something I was scared to do for so long. For once, it felt great to be driving.

Because I only needed Clinic III to graduate, I began looking for jobs- in areas such as special education and speech therapy. My friend, from my Intro to Music class, had given me the name of the Benson School, a school with students from ages 3 to 21, who have special needs. Benson school is about a half hour from where I live. It is a school for students with disabilities such as Autism and Downs Syndrome. There are teachers, assistants, and speech, occupational, and physical therapists working there. I was planning on being a substitute teacher in the positions of assistants and one-on-ones. I went for the interview with Lynn, the principal, there in August. She looked over my resume and hired me to be a substitute teacher.

That summer, my family and I went on a cruise. It was a lot of fun. I realized then that I had not really been on a vacation like that in a long time. The farthest I had been was Florida, and that was when I was six years old. I loved the cruise- the food, the pool, and just walking around. We had not been on a vacation in so long. I took tons of pictures and for once in a really long time I was happy with how I looked in them. I still did not have lots of confidence, but it was beginning to grow a little bit.

After the cruise, we went to my sister's time-share in Shoreline. It was about two blocks from the boardwalk. Christine came with us. Amy joined us the last night. We went into the pool at the hotel, took the tour of the time share, walked on the boardwalk, and went to restaurants. Now, looking back, I think I may have been hypomanic at that point. I started to feel unusually happy and confident, which was not me at all.

Sometime after the trip, I had my hearing for SSI. My parents drove me there. Christine sent me an encouraging text. The SSI lawyer and I had been preparing for the hearing for several years. I remember I was nervous because I don't like to talk in front of people.

When I got there, my lawyer met me at the door and we went inside a room. There was a judge and a couple other people there. My lawyer was going to ask me some questions and I would answer them about my disability and how it affects my work. I started off fine just answering basic questions, but then I had to relive it all. I cried almost the entire hearing while explaining all the things I had been through and all the sick periods of my life. It was like a release. Everyone in the room with me was nice, and I must have felt comfortable enough with them to start crying in front of them. I ended up receiving more SSI benefits that I will need if I get sick and cannot work in the future.

I remember towards the middle of the summer, the days started to go a lot faster. It was almost as if every day was just running into the next day. I was very happy and busy. I think things were going a little too fast then, but I did not realize it at the time.

Around the beginning of August, Christine came over to help me redo my room. We went through all my clothes and changed all my furniture around. We made it like an olive green. I bought a comforter, window curtains, posters, new hangers, and more for the room. We worked hours on it and it came out really great. I think I was hypomanic though because I was very happy around that time. Also, the night Christine came over to help me with the room I didn't fall asleep until about 3 or 4AM. The following night I remember lying in my bed and I couldn't fall asleep.

I had gone out with Christine and her boyfriend one night just for a few drinks. It was supposed to be a happy time. Christine picked out an outfit for me and we did our hair. I was happy and I felt like I looked pretty. However, when we got there I kept crying all night and wasn't myself. I remember I slept at her house but did not get enough sleep again.

### Chapter 19: A Relapse with Psychosis

It was around my birthday, August 16th, when I had my third manic episode. I went with Christine and her boyfriend Bill to a dog show. I just was very confused and didn't know where I was or what was going on.

Before the dog show, I had gone to Christine's house and I was very out of it. I was restless and moving around a lot. She was worried about me before we even went to the dog show. At the dog show, I just kept following Christine and Bill. I really didn't even know why I was there. It seemed loud and I was afraid of everything- the dogs and the people. I was not acting right at all.

Bill and Christine drove me home and Christine came in. We had some of my birthday cake my mom had bought me. Christine had a notebook of mine and was encouraging me to write about how I felt and suggested that maybe I should go to the hospital. I looked at my mom and started crying and I lied down in her bed. I didn't sleep though.

My mom called and told Gail I was sick. We didn't tell Dr. Kadam right away because he said if ever became manic, I should go back on the Zyprexa, which is what I did. Zyprexa takes a couple weeks to work.

The next couple days after my birthday, I stayed at home all day. I couldn't drive so my mom used the car to drive to work and back. I was pacing around a lot, going upstairs then downstairs then upstairs. My mind was going a million miles an hour – a lot of racing thoughts all going on at once. All classic manic symptoms. Christine came over a few times to pick up clothes that I didn't want. She tried to help me get better.

Through the course of the manic episode, I drove to stores and the mall constantly and bought things. Overall, I ended up charging over $3,000, which some of it I am still paying off today - five years later.

I would go in a store and everything seemed like magic, and I felt I had to buy everything like it was there for me. I bought shoes, purses, clothes, and jewelry. I did this for about two weeks or so. Then, after I was healthy again, I decided I wanted to take everything back but I couldn't because I had taken the tags off.

When I would go to stores and buy things, I just liked everything in the entire store and thought it was all there for me. I liked the shoes, shirts, jeans – even styles that I don't normally wear. I wouldn't buy one or two outfits from the store but more like ten or so from each store, along with jewelry and shoes. The price made no difference – I bought anything and everything I liked. I kept bringing packages in everyday into my room, and cutting the tags off of everything and putting it in my closet. I did not even keep the receipts- I just threw them out.

Also, in September, I bought tons of fall and Halloween decorations and decorated the entire downstairs. I decorated almost every inch of the house with some kind of decoration. It almost looked something like a haunted house. I didn't think anything was wrong with that at the time.

Also, my friend Erika from Stenton had called. We usually always talk for at least a half hour or so to catch up on everything. I had called her and she called me back or she had called me and my mom gave me the phone and I said something like, "Hi how are you, I'm doing OK, bye," and I hung up. Erika thought I was mad at her and didn't want to talk to her. Later on, I explained that I had done that because I was sick. She joked that if that happens again, her feelings will not get hurt.

I thought I was someone special. I decided I wanted to go to China. I thought I was meant to go to all these foreign countries, and everyone was watching everything I did. I was very sick.

I actually did sign up to go to China. I signed up online to go as a missionary. I'm scared of planes, I don't speak foreign languages, and I never have been to a foreign country outside of Canada- yet I signed up. This was psychotic mania. Weeks later, we received a t-shirt and request for my dental records for me to go. I had to write a note saying thank you but I have bipolar disorder and I was manic when I signed up.

I also signed up to go study at the Texas Culinary School. I think it was because I was cooking so much by myself and with Christine that I thought I was a top chef. I thought I was meant to go to the school and be a chef. I had a lot of confidence. I got emails from them as well for weeks.

These were delusions of grandeur- thinking I was someone that I was not. I believed I could be a famous chef and a missionary – clearly which I could not have been. But at the time I believed it to be true.

During the manic episode, my sister said that I put her and Brian's laundry in my dresser drawer and she didn't find it until a year later.

At one point, which I don't remember completely, I was walking back and forth by my drive way holding my purse. Kim, our neighbor, who lived across the street and who would help me when I was sick, saw me and called my mom and got me to go back inside. If she did not see me, I could have started wandering down the street. I still do not know why I was doing that. It's a good thing Kim was home to get me to go back inside.

I also kept changing my room around and brought my clothes upstairs then downstairs, constantly. I kept rearranging everything over and over and trying on all my clothes. I kept dividing them by color, by size, and then into summer, spring, fall, or winter. I would also get rid of clothes that I identified with not feeling right.

When manic, I would look at clothes that I had worn when I wasn't feeling well and would get rid of them. I would save the ones I identified with as me wearing when healthy, even if the clothes were years old and didn't even fit. I just wanted to keep them in my room. I did not want to lose that part of me that could be healthy. I wanted to believe that one day I would be healthy forever.

In September, while I was manic we went to Dr. Kadam. He said that was good that I went back on Zyprexa. I didn't need to be hospitalized because I was getting better each day at home.

We saw Gail soon after. She was concerned that I was sick. I was very quiet during the appointment. She tried to help me make plans for the next couple months, and encouraged me to work at Benson School, and that I would be healthy enough and was capable of it. I took her advice and believed I would do great at working.

I think I started getting better by October. Christine and I stopped talking. We had met at a bookstore while I was manic and I wanted to leave, and she said call me when you get home and I never did. Also, she saw me in a clothing store and she said I had no idea what she was saying and my eyes were all bloodshot. She had messaged me on a social website, "Ummmm?", because we hadn't hung out in weeks, and we used to hang out every day. I explained how I was sick and she said she didn't want to sugarcoat anything for me, and is my friend regardless of my mental state.

She said she was busy with school. I was busy too. We hung out once more. I helped her with a project. Then we lost contact.

I was lucky that Victoria, my clinic director, who chooses your clinic III placement, had a miscommunication with the school I was supposed to go to. Clinic III was practice to diagnosing speech disorders through many different tests. There was no way I would have been able to do that. No way. I would have been pacing around the halls of the school.

Because I still had wanted to graduate December of 2008, I had written a letter to Stenton requesting that I be able to do Clinic III in some way. Linda and Victoria said I could complete Clinic III at Stenton.

I wanted to redo my college senior pictures because I thought I looked ugly in the original ones. We scheduled to do it sometime in October. I got the new pictures taken and was satisfied with how they came out.

I drove back to Stenton a couple times to get credit for Clinic III. I got to evaluate some people in the clinic, including my mom and Amy who volunteered to take language tests. Linda let me evaluate at a school, who did language evaluations, down the road from Stenton. When we went to Stenton, my roommate, Amy, from the previous year went with us out to eat at the mall near Stenton.

I took a lot of nice pictures at Stenton and I made a wellness photo book. I took pictures of Stenton, the beach, and even some healthy food, to put in the wellness book. The book came out beautiful and I often look at it during times I am sick.

It took about two months to get completely better after the episode. Because I had charged everything I bought on the shopping sprees, I was in a lot of debt - thousands. I also had to pick up the pieces and get my life back in order. I wanted to be healthy, to exercise, to be independent, and to feel better again. I wrote a lot in my journal. l looked at the wellness book.

I went to the beach a lot and took pictures. I even wrote, "dream, believe, achieve" in the sand and took pictures of it. I loved walking by the ocean. It was so comforting and it cleared my mind. I would go down to the ocean and beach a lot while I was getting better. It really helped me to do that.

I volunteered at an animal center. It was therapeutic for me and also a help to the shelter and the animals. I volunteered in the section with the cats. The cats were so adorable I wished I could have taken them all home. We got to take two out at a time. Volunteering lifted my spirits and I felt good about it. I also was still driving and could drive there by myself.

I started thinking about doing something else as a career. I wasn't sure if I still wanted to be a speech pathologist. I didn't think I would be good at it. I was thinking about how it was stressful for me and I would never feel good enough at it. I looked into other careers such as educational technologist but really didn't make any definite decisions. I decided to start with substitute teaching and go from there.

I felt comfortable choosing work as a substitute teacher in a special education school because I would not be the only teacher there- there were a couple other aides and you took an aide's place.

By the end of October, Carol from the Benson School called me to go in to substitute teach. I was very nervous on how to drive there and if I would get lost. My sister found an easy way for me to get there using the back roads. I practiced driving there a couple times, as my mom and sister wrote down the directions for me. It wasn't too far- about twenty to thirty minutes away, depending on the traffic.

On the first day of work, I was up and ready to go. When I got to the school, I brought the necessary work papers I needed to complete, and was placed in Maria's class where there were about four other aides. The first couple days I observed a lot. I observed the way the teachers worked with the kids and especially the speech therapists. Everyone treated me well .I loved being an aide, but I was always anxious that one day if I got my master's in this field, I would have to be a speech therapist and I had zero confidence in myself doing that. For a while, I considered being an aide long-term.

Of course, I did not tell anyone at the job about having bipolar disorder, especially after Travis would not take me back at Pizza-N-Games after I got sick back in 2006. Even Gail said no one has to know about bipolar disorder because it's personal. When I first was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, I told many people that I had it. As I got older, I learned to tell people only when it was necessary. When I did disclose I was bipolar to people, I found that they often knew someone in their family or friends who had bipolar disorder or something similar to it. I never felt alone or singled out when I disclosed about having bipolar disorder.

I had some ups and downs in the fall 2008, but there were mostly good days. I was getting a steady paycheck. I was driving independently to work. I felt more confident in a healthy way. I was even thinking about dating which I hadn't done since before I had gotten sick. I contacted a dating service and met a man in his 30s for dinner on a date. He was nice. However, I still wasn't ready to date. There was a lot more of myself I had to get together first.

I became preoccupied about the way I looked. I would focus on my hair, face, and clothes. I always thought I didn't look right. I would take pictures of myself often and have my mom take pictures of me. I would always look at them in disgust. I tried to make logic out of why I did that and the closest idea that came to me was that I have a self-image disorder (except for when I'm manic).

When I'm manic, I feel like I am ok looking. I look in the mirror and I am not completely dissatisfied with how I look. When in the hospital and at home recovering from mania I look at pictures of myself and think, wow, I really did look ok. When I am depressed however, I feel the opposite. I think I am fat, ugly and stupid. Now I am realizing it is part of the disorder – part of my process.

I tend to feel guilty that I think so low of myself when I have such great family and friends around me. I am physically healthy and no trauma has ever happened to me like a bad accident or physical illness. I learned that part of depression is feelings of guilt and I can identify with that. Even celebrities with millions of dollars get depressed. I understand why that could be.

During this fall season, there was a little depression here and there but not severe. Some days I would write in my journal "hate waking up", but there were many good days as well. There were some nights I had trouble falling asleep, but most nights I slept fine.

I continued working at Benson School and thinking about careers. I tossed around recreational therapist, sign language interpreter, librarian, pharmacy technician, and of course, was still thinking about speech therapy, as I had spent the last three years studying to be a speech pathologist. I had gone to a therapist one time in the office of Dr. Weber because he was not taking any patients. Her name was Arlene, and she had said "manic people jump around a lot." I guess she was right.

Because I had finished Clinic III in November, I had enough credits and requirements to graduate college in December of '08. We went to get my cap and gown. I kept trying it on to make sure I looked ok in it. I couldn't decide whether to wear my hair straight or curly. Nonetheless, I was very excited to be graduating college. It was a long road. My family and friends were every proud.

On the day of the graduation, my parents, my great Aunt Trudy, and my sister and Brian all went to see me graduate. My friends Erika and Juanita, from the speech classes, both came to see me graduate. Afterward, we took pictures in the building where I had most of my classes in. It felt like old times again when Juanita, Erika, and also Jill would go to our speech classes back in fall 2005.

### Chapter 20: 2009: A Full Year (well, almost) of Progress

I continued working at Benson School. I learned so much but I still never got the confidence that I would be good at it although I always felt needed. I always felt that the work of the class I was in was a little easier with me there because the regular aide was sick or couldn't make it to work. I felt helpful and I got a lot of compliments, which made me more confident and like myself a little better.

I was thinking about careers non-stop. I was looking careers up online and I was writing a pros and cons list. Finally, I decided to take a sign language course at Maple County College. I drove to their bookstore and bought the book required for the class. It came with a DVD to practice learning signs. I even went to the classroom, where it would be held, with my mom and took pictures of me sitting at a desk. I really thought this might be the right career for me. I was happy.

That night I looked through the entire sign language book and couldn't wait for the first class. I even started practicing some of the signs. The classes were on Thursdays at MCC, so I would be available every day but Thursday to sub at Benson School. I told the girls at work about how I wanted to be a sign language interpreter. They weren't particularly discouraging but they did say the work is less likely to be permanent and it is very hard to find. I know that they knew I could be a speech pathologist, but I just did not have the confidence. I was too afraid.

I figured that being a sign language interpreter - the work was more direct. I signed what people said and vice versa. There was no meeting with parents or diagnosing people with speech disorders. It felt like a safe career at the time and something I would enjoy learning.

In the mean-time, I felt lonely. Christine and I were not talking anymore and my friends from Stenton were at least an hour away.

I was applying for speech jobs at the time because I was still considering that career, and I wanted to save for my own apartment one day. I did get a call back to go on an interview but I ended up cancelling it. I thought it would be too much.

I became very goal-oriented in 2009. I wanted to accomplish many things, many of which I did. I would make goal sheets that would map out my goals as I achieved them. I would laminate these sheets and use Velcro to move each goal over as I accomplished it. At the present time, I have accomplished many of these goals such as "continue with school" and "a career" and "long term health plan." I am currently still actually working on anxiety and assertiveness. Currently, I am not focusing on, "romance," as I find dating very stressful. I am also not working on the goal of getting an apartment because I would never be able to live alone with my patterns of getting sick. But mostly all the other goals I have made accomplishments in.

I also find it beneficial to write lists and cross things off as I write them. It gives me a visual idea of what I want to accomplish for that day, week, or even year. I am super organized and making lists helps me get my thoughts onto paper and accomplish things and watch them be crossed off the list as I accomplish those things. In 2009, I was very involved in making goals, and I reached many of them.

I started eating very healthfully in 2009. I would have salads, healthful cereal, wheat pasta, vegetables, and peanuts. I was losing weight between eating healthfully, walking, and pilates. I felt less anxious. Sometimes what I eat affects my anxiety level such as too much caffeine and sugar. There is research linking certain foods that cause a person to be more anxious and foods that lower anxiety.

In the spring of 2009, I was invited to an awards breakfast at Stenton College. I received an award for academic achievement. My mom went with me and I sat with some friends from the speech program. It was nice to be on the campus again and receive an award.

Starting in the summer of 2009, my mom and I would go out to eat once a month with my dad's cousin Rosemary. We made it a tradition to go out and catch up once a month. Rosemary was very concerned always about how I was doing. She understood how bipolar disorder affects me. We would talk about all different things and laugh a lot too. It was a lot of fun going to our monthly dinners with Rosemary which we still continue going to today.

My dad at the time had recently started dating. His girlfriend's name is Sue. My dad still lived at home with us for financial reasons. Sue would come over a lot. Sue and my mom got along great. Sue was nice. She would get me things I liked such as magazines, gum, and food. She would give me coupons for things I liked to buy. They would continue dating even till today, but now living in a house of their own.

I started making bracelets. They weren't that great, just simple bracelets. I would buy strings and different colored beads and make wrist bracelets and ankle bracelets. I would bring them to work and lay them out on a table where you walked in and people would choose bracelets they wanted. I didn't charge for them – just made them for friends and coworkers. I still have some of the bracelets today.

I did decide I was pretty enough and thin enough to date. I had confidence again. I started looking online for someone to date. I had not dated since high school because I had to take care of myself first and because of all the setbacks. I was more focused on school and staying healthy.

On one of the match-making websites, I met a nice guy, Dave, who was a history professor. We wrote emails back and forth for months. He was so intelligent and he made me feel normal and confident. We wrote about everything- school, work, hobbies, movies... I couldn't wait to come home from work to check if Dave had written back. I showed my mom the emails. She thought he seemed really nice and that he would be a great fit.

I also was exercising a lot. I started learning pilates at a local gym. There were different teachers, but one teacher, Beth, inspired me to commit to being fit and healthy - along with everyone else in the class. She would put on music and we would stretch and work on balance and toning our muscles. Pilates and yoga are also very stress-relieving. I could see the change in my arms and abs. I felt more comfortable with my body and my mind was clear.

In the summer of 2009, Beth started having yogalates lessons on the beach. Yogalates is a combination of yoga and pilates. The weather and scenery were beautiful. As we were doing the yogalates, we got to watch the waves and be on our yoga mats in the sand. The sound of the waves of the ocean was very calming. After the class, I felt so relaxed and calm. We would meet once a week right before sunset, around 6PM. I would go to the yogalates classes inside the gym until October of 2009, when the gym was shut down because not enough people went there anymore.

However, Beth would continue her classes on the beach and at a recreation center and bring her dog Cookie. I still go to Beth's classes today when I am at a healthy weight. When my weight is high, it is hard for me to do the pilates part of yogalates, as pilates is using your own body weight. I need cardio first to lose weight and then I will continue with the yogalates. I cannot do the roll-overs especially when I am at a heavier weight. Pilates and yoga does clear your mind and is healthy for you to do so I try to keep up with it when I can. I would continue going to Beth's classes on and off. We have a great group of people who go to the classes as well.

In yogalates, Beth would teach us how to breathe. It was always hard for me to take deep breaths, as I usually breathe very shallow and hyperventilate. In a later outpatient therapy program, they would focus a lot on breathing and how breathing correctly can make you calm and centered.

I started the sign language class in January of 2009 at my community college. I thought that it would help me in my job at the special ed school, and I was thinking about becoming a sign-language interpreter. The teacher was nice and very energetic and passionate about her work. We learned the alphabet and numbers in sign language, along with basic words such as "family" and "blue" and "house." We also learned sentences in sign language. It was beginner sign language. We watched videos on cochlear implants and did a project at the end where we dressed up a rock and told a story about it. I chose a nurse as my rock. I usually am terrified of doing oral presentations but I wasn't in this class because you only have to sign, which I felt confident with. I still remember how to sign the alphabet.

I went to sign language interpreter meetings and met nice friends. The meetings were held certain Saturday nights at the college. I went to their show where they sign to songs. I liked it, but I wasn't confident enough to be a sign language interpreter because people have to observe you and it is like you are a performer. I am definitely not a performer.

I continued juggling careers and finally, after researching a lot online, I decided on library science – school media specialist. I love books and reading and I'm very organized. I figured that a librarian really doesn't have to talk a lot, meet with parents, or make any tough decisions. I looked into the University of Roma program, a university in CT, and signed up for a course online.

I observed a school media specialist at a school about forty minutes from my house. The librarian was really helpful and showed me everything I would be doing. I liked it a lot. I felt I would be good at it because I am very organized. There wasn't a lot of talking like a typical teacher. The students would come in and do research and you would assist them. The only part that got me a little nervous was learning how to do the budget, but I was sure I would be ok with that when the time came.

I really began to like Dave, the guy I had been emailing - a lot. I could email him about anything. He was interesting. He was supportive. He only had positive things to say about everything I would email him – my goals, my interests...He had some tough times in the past like I had. However, I did not tell him about having bipolar disorder. We emailed each other online for a couple months and finally met in June of 2009.

When I went on the first date with Dave, we played mini-golf on the boardwalk in Sunrise Beach. I even remember what I wore- white capris and a black tank top. I liked him right away. He was shy and so was I. We had a great first date though. He kissed me at the end of first date. He said he normally does not do that on the first date but he really liked me.

He listened to me and understood me. I felt comfortable with him. He inspired me to be great – to achieve things and believe in myself. He was very rational and down-to earth too. I really liked him. He told me I was beautiful. He said there was nothing he did not like about me.

We went on a couple more dates. We went out to eat and to the mall. We went to a diner. He gave me gifts. I told Gail how much I liked him. Gail said he seemed like the perfect fit for me. My mom thought he was very nice and she met him when we went to dinner one night. We went to a fancy restaurant. I wore a black dress and Dave met me there and he gave me flowers. We had dinner and walked on the boardwalk and he gave me a gift, a pair of earrings. He made me feel beautiful, intelligent, and special.

Summer of 2009 was a happy time in my life. I had a job. I was driving. I was dating. I was keeping up with walking and yogalates. I had started classes for library science. I felt confident and felt like I looked ok. I still took pictures of myself to validate that I looked ok before leaving the house, but I was happier and felt like a normal person. It was another breath of fresh air. I was happy.

There is a reason why I remember what I wear all the time. It is because sometimes I wear certain tank tops or jeans and I associate them with happy times, or with bad times. For example, I still have my blue dress I wore to my graduation party and white heels because that was a time when I was confident and happy. Clothes I have worn when I was depressed I don't like because I associate them with times of depression or sadness.

In July, I had a college graduation party. I invited family, friends from high school, and friends from college. I wore the blue strapless dress and white heels. I did feel pretty that day and I liked how all the pictures came out. I made two large poster boards like a collage with all pictures from when I was in college on it. I still have those today. I also made a smaller poster board of my Nan and I. I felt like she was there in spirit. Tommy, who my Nan babysat when we were young, was there with his cousin and his mom, Gale. Gale started crying when she saw that board of the pictures of my Nan. My graduation party was a great experience and I was happy. My graduation party will always be a happy memory.

I continued going to Gail, my therapist. She was so happy that I was doing well. I was dating. I was driving. I was working. All my goals from the previous year were being accomplished. I continued bringing my journal to every appointment, which I would write what I did for the day and rate it. I also made a goal sheet that was laminated. My goals were getting an apartment, a job over 30K, dating, continuing with school, and being healthier long term.

Back in 2009, I really wanted an apartment and to live on my own. I envisioned a beautiful apartment I could call mine and decorate and invite friends, family, and boyfriends over. That was an important dream of mine and I always thought one day it would come true.

I would later decide I would never be able to live on my own. What if I got sick and could not pay the rent? What would I do- especially if I had signed a lease for the year? What if I get manic? Because I get sick and it does cycle, I decided I always need to live with someone- whether it is family or if I met someone I really liked and we got an apartment together. To me, now, living on my own is completely out of the question.

I continued taking the online literature class at University of Roma. I had showed my friends at Benson School how many books were on the syllabus- there were many - over twenty or so. I love reading so that wasn't a problem. I would read for hours every night. In the class, we would share our opinions about the books and debate different topics. I did great in the class – I got an A. I was going to take another class online at University of Roma in the fall, but could not afford it.

I continued dating Dave. When it came to the night I met his parents, I was very anxious about it. I just was so anxious that I thought they didn't like me. I thought any guy's parents would not like me because they would rather see their son with a prettier or more talkative or less shy girl. They were not mean and his dad said they liked me, but I was just anxious about what they thought of me. I took everything they said to heart and thought I was being criticized, when in reality they must have liked me. His dad did tell me he liked me as I was leaving that night.

Dave and I went to Shoreline for the weekend after my birthday. I had a great time initially but had trouble sleeping that night, and was actually going into hypomania around that time. I was getting too confident and feeling too good about myself. It felt like a weird and unusual feeling. Dave gave me a beautiful necklace. After I got back home, I ended up emailing Dave that I could not go out anymore for personal reasons. Dating just felt like so much pressure at the time and having to have a relationship with a guy's family members. It was just too much for me at the time. It was so hard. I cried as I sent that email. He said he understood. He had just gotten an apartment so I would have somewhere to go. Now he was alone there. I felt so bad and so guilty. It was one of the hardest things I had to do in my entire life.

Dave said to keep the necklace and earrings and when I wear it then to think of him. I still have the necklace and earrings today. I don't wear them but I have them in a safe place and look at them now and then, remembering a time when I was loved, encouraged, and respected by a guy.

In the mean-time, my friend Joe from around the neighborhood came over a lot. He went to school with my sister. We would watch Grey's Anatomy together. He made me laugh and we would laugh a lot with my mom, my dad, and Sue. He was fun to hang out with. He had a girlfriend of five years or so. He was just a friend.

I was happy in summer 2009. I worked at Benson full time as a teacher aide, as I had only worked as a substitute during the year. It was nice making money, driving, and being independent.

By the time the fall came, I was subbing at Benson School again. I was planning on taking the school media specialist program at Brookville Community College, about forty minutes from my house. I met with the director of the program and she gave me information about it. I told her it seemed like _the_ career for me. It seemed like the career for me because I love books and writing, and a school librarian does not have to necessarily meet with parents like speech therapists do. I felt like I wouldn't be anxious as a school media specialist.

I met with my counselor at the vocational rehab program and we went over the school media specialist program at Brookville Community College. I told her I was no longer planning on speech pathology and had withdrawn from the online speech program. The vocational rehab program was able to pay for some of the program and the books that I would need for the school media specialist program, which was going to start a couple months later in the fall.

When I had shadowed the school librarian for the day, it seemed like I would like it. I was just nervous about administrative tasks such as the budget and an assistant working under you. I am a very responsible person but I would rather work behind the scenes and not at a supervisor level.

I remember when I met with Gail one appointment during the summer, I had made a list of pros and cons about if I wanted to do speech therapy or school library media specialist. We both decided on school library media specialist. I always believed in Gail's help in making decisions, as most of our decisions have been right.

### Chapter 21: Manic Episode with Psychosis Once More

In September of 2009, I began getting manic again. It started when I could not fall asleep. I realized I was having a hard time falling asleep, but I didn't think it was as serious as it was.

The mania came on quick. There were so many thoughts whirling around my head – about school, about work, everything. My brain could not stop racing. When I lied down it would get worse. I'm not sure if I knew at that point I was manic but I knew that something was not right.

I had joined another gym because the gym I went to had closed down. I joined Starbrooke Fitness. They had two rooms for classes. They had ellipticals, treadmills, bikes, and weights. I took the yoga and pilates classes. One night I was driving home and I got into an accident. I thought you could drive straight across in the parking lot like I always had. There was no stop sign there. However, I was wrong and as I was driving through the parking lot a car was driving in from the road and hit me on the driver's side. My car door was all smashed in. I started crying from the shock of it.

The repair was expensive- almost all the money I had saved from my graduation party was needed to fix it and pay towards the rental car. It was weird driving another car but I did it. I was definitely manic when I got the rental car as things were very clear – too clear.

I went to Gail and said I didn't want to be in therapy anymore, and I stopped writing in my journal. I was starting to get really sick. At work, I could not focus. The day felt extremely long. I was confused and could not work like I had every day before. I don't think anyone noticed – I hoped they hadn't.

My mom gave me Ativan in an envelope to put in my purse in case I needed it. On my break I took the Ativan. It didn't really help.

Finally, I was too sick to go to work. My mom called out for me that I couldn't work and I went back on a high dose of Zyprexa. She didn't tell them why but said I could not substitute teach for a while. They called a couple more days but I could not go in to work.

At home, I was scared of everything. I was scared to flush the toilet because of the noise. I was afraid to take a shower. I was afraid to go outside. It was awful.

I also had decided on a change of careers. I decided I wanted to be a medical lab technologist because I had the science background and it seemed more fit for me.

My mom and I went to talk to Lynn, my boss, and told her I wasn't coming back. I mentioned to her I was beginning to think about being a medical lab technologist and she had said Ellis Medical Center is a great hospital to study at. I told her what programs I was looking into. I did not tell her I had bipolar disorder. Looking back, I wish I had. They would call me in the future to still substitute teach – however I had decided on a medical lab career. I would not want anyone at Benson School to think that I simply didn't want to work there. There was a lot more going on with me than on the surface. It was very complicated.

I stayed home. I couldn't drive. My dad was home every day because he had retired. I began going into psychosis. I just played Grey's Anatomy, season 1, over and over again in my room. I even thought I was a surgeon. I was looking through pictures and magazines, and cutting things up and doing very random things. I would go into the kitchen and wash my hands and then dry them with some paper towels, and thought I was, "scrubbing in", as Grey's would call it. I was so sick.

When I thought I was a surgeon, I envisioned myself working on my own brain. I was cutting pictures from magazines out that I liked. I would cut and staple words, pictures, and advertisements from magazines that were inspirational and that I liked and put them in different orders in front of me, taping and stapling them to papers. I even thought I was part of a surgical team operating on my own self, making my brain better. It was a serious delusion and could have even been dangerous if I started "performing surgery" on myself instead of on paper with scissors and markers.

Later, after being sick, I looked at my "brain operation" and it was nothing more than little scraps of papers and words from magazines taped together. I could not believe how I thought I was fixing my brain and doing surgery on it. I could just see that maybe in a way I was trying to get positive thoughts and get better so that's why I taped things I loved together to make me a happier person. I'm still not exactly sure why I did all that.

Why do people who are manic have delusions? For me, it only happens in the extreme manic phase and it goes away when I adjust my medication, adding Zyprexa to the mix. Research shows that delusions appear in mania. I think it is because I get so high when manic that my brain turns against me and makes me psychotic and delusional. I can believe almost anything when I'm manic.

I also could not stay still. I couldn't watch even a half hour show without getting up and moving around every five minutes or so. I was very restless. I also was talking very fast, as I had so many thoughts at once.

My mom called Gail and I started going again to her for therapy. I actually was not even sure why I had quit. I started to go to an outpatient program called Wellness Plus. It was intensive outpatient therapy. It looked like really good program for people with bipolar disorder and other mental illness. I went to meet with them and we went through everything that had happened. It seemed like a good program, although it was a little bit far. However, I couldn't afford to go there.

My mom called the doctor and he put me back on Zyprexa, the anti-psychotic drug that gets me out of mania. We started with a high dose and slowly lowered it.

Eventually, the Zyprexa did its job and I began getting better. My thoughts began clearing out and I became less and less psychotic. It always works - always.

I went back to Gail and showed her my goals I was going to work for. She wanted to know how I got sick and what happened, and she wrote down the medications I was on. I said I just wasn't sure what happened because I was still on the medications except for Zyprexa. I thought maybe it had been the stress of the car accident. We all agreed I was getting better and should be ok.

The episode was severe in the psychosis, but I was better within a couple weeks, which was pretty quick for me. I started getting sick in October and I was almost full-functioning again in mid-November. I had not worked at all at the school during that time.

### Chapter 22: Another Comeback

Because I began to associate substitute teaching and sign language interpreting with getting manic, I decided I wanted to start all over and become a medical lab technologist. I would apply to the program at Maple University Medical Center. I had done great in biology and chemistry my freshman year at Silva and I asked those professors to write recommendation letters for me. Karen Thrombo, my biology professor from Silva College, and Lara, who had been my lab instructor, wrote great recommendations and I was accepted into the program. I had to wear a suit and go to the interview. I even drove there myself, as it was almost 40 minutes away at Maple, where I had been hospitalized in September of 2004.

We met in the lobby. Attending were some of the other prospective students for the clinical lab program. The director was not there but the other teachers described the program- the classes, the clinical rotations, and everything else. It seemed amazing. There were lots of classes I was interested in such as microbiology, clinical rotations in all areas of the lab, and many projects and events. I was hoping I would be accepted because the program was very competitive. In speaking with several of the applicants, I learned that their qualifications were very impressive.

They gave us a tour of the lab. I was looking around the lab and I thought this would be the career for me, because since I am so shy and self-conscious, I wouldn't have to talk. It wasn't that I didn't want to join in conversations and be out-going, it's just that I was shy and self-conscious and I never knew what to say. Therefore a job in the lab, where there is little interaction with people, seemed like a great fit.

The lab program would run from September to August. There was a special graduation ceremony in August. Over the course of the program we would have clinicals in all areas of the lab such as chemistry, microbiology, and hematology. There were classes as well where you would learn the information and read, research, and take exams. They said that they were only accepting ten medical technologists out of about forty. We had lunch with students who were currently in the program. I was really hoping I would be accepted as I loved everything I heard so far about the program. I really thought I would finally find the right career for me.

As I was driving home, I began to think about how many people were applying for the positions, and the fact that they were only accepting ten applicants. Would I be one of the lucky ones? I was anxiously waiting to see if I got accepted. Finally, a letter from the lab school came in the mail. I opened it and it said congratulations and that I was accepted. I was so happy. I told Gail and my family. Everyone was happy for me.

It was hard, though, because the program did not start until September of the following year, and it was only December when I found out I got accepted. That meant I had to wait about nine months in order to start the program. I was still getting SSI income. I applied for lab assistant and food service positions in the hospital just to work, although I did not get any interviews. I decided I would brush up on my biology and chemistry and try to observe in labs. I read books and took a lot of notes. I signed up for lab related information online in order to get newsletters and such.

Because I had changed careers, I went to Melissa from the vocational rehab program again (I had also gone when I was considering library science). She was very nice and patient about my changing careers. The program was able to pay for the lab program and all of the books. I was very grateful.

I joined a gym and started going there to do cardio. I would mostly go there and walk on the treadmill while listening to music. I took a yoga class there one time as well.

Around January 2010, I wanted to try dating again. I went to the same matchmaker I had a year ago, but all the referrals I was given lived far away from where I did. I talked to a few guys online and I met someone named James, who I would date from January 2010, until the following November.

I met James for the first time at restaurant. We had dinner together. He was funny and good-hearted. We compared our likes and dislikes. Every time we had something in common, he would say "score." I thought that was cute. He gave me flowers on our first date.

I went on more dates with him. I liked him. We watched movies in his apartment and cooked dinner together and were very busy getting to know each other better. We went out to see a lot of movies together. We did a lot of things with his friends such as eating out and just hanging out in his apartment. We rented videos a lot too. We took short trips to Shoreline to meet my roommate, Amy, from my last year at Stenton, and her boyfriend.

However, it came to a point when I didn't have the energy to do things anymore. I was a little bit depressed and not myself. Since James lived a little far from me, it took a lot of energy to drive to his apartment, and my anxiety increased because we had to spend a lot of time with his friends and his family. I was always nervous they thought I wasn't pretty enough or talkative enough, and that he should go out with more of a normal girl. I am still nervous today that if I date someone their parents will not like me.

Also, it turned out we didn't have as much in common as I had thought. He didn't do anything wrong, but he just didn't seem to be the one for me. I was having so many problems of my own, especially with anxiety.

In spring of 2010 I began feeling very anxious. I would talk to Gail often about it. I couldn't even walk out of her waiting room, or in stores, without thinking people were looking at me.

I always had a little social anxiety, even when I was young. However, now it was blown way out of proportion. Social anxiety is when you are nervous around people – about saying the wrong thing and looking stupid. You want to interact and be friendly but you are way too self-conscious to interact as much as you would want to. Social anxiety really holds you back.

For some reason, in 2010 my anxiety reached an all-time high. The anxiety, then for me, felt like my world was closing in and I could hardly breathe. I would get so nervous that people were looking at me and thinking negative things – people I didn't even know. The thoughts were obsessive – they would not go away no matter how hard I tried not to think about it. I knew how irrational that was, but the feelings just weren't going away, even when I thought about it logically. My heart would race, I would feel sweaty - and feel like I needed to escape. On some days, my mom would go into stores by herself and I would sit in the car, paralyzed by my anxiety.

Even through research, and trying my best to self-help, I was still anxious all the time, and it wasn't going away. I was especially anxious in front of people. I was more anxious than I was depressed. This was the most anxious I had ever been. I wanted help. I desperately wanted help.

In April, Gail found a program for me to go to – an outpatient therapy at St. Richard Health Care. I went three days a week. I drove myself there. It was about 20 minutes away. I would drop my mom off at work and go to the program. I did not even tell James about the program. I didn't want to tell anyone about anxiety or bipolar disorder unless I really had to. I would have told him eventually, but we were still early in dating. He seemed hurt that I did not tell him earlier on. In a way, I just was done with bipolar and believed I would never get sick again. However, I was wrong. I would continue to have episodes for years to come.

Currently, I am not dating. It is too stressful. I could get sick if get too anxious. I am more focused on work. However, if I should meet someone unexpectedly, or if a friend turns out to like me more than a friend, maybe I will consider dating again one day. Now, I have decided to tell someone I am dating about my bipolar disorder on the second date. If they are not happy with that, then they don't have to date me. If they are open to that, we can start a relationship. I am not hiding it anymore while dating. I feel that is something every guy would need to know about me from the beginning.

At the St. Richard program, I got a lot of different paperwork on topics such as self-esteem and perfectionism. I talked more in the groups than I did at Turning Key Recovery Center because I was more mature. I even gave advice to people. They stressed to me that people are busy with their own lives, and that they do not look at you. We went over subjects such as perfectionism, assertiveness, and self-talk. The people in the group were non-judgmental and everyone had their own issues that they were struggling with. We all just connected with each other and learned that many of us were working on similar issues. I graduated from the program a couple weeks later and got to pick out a stone. I picked "courage." I still have that stone today.

One of the therapists at the St. Richard program said to take your anxiety and put it to the side of you- just carry it with you like your purse. Just put it aside. I thought that was a great idea because I always felt anxious, and it was not going away. To put it aside and focus on other positive things would enable me to not be completely crippled due to anxiety. I told Gail this and she said she would use it for other patients of hers.

We also did guided meditation. That is when you would listen to a tape of sounds, like an ocean, and the therapist would guide you on what to think about and picture while listening. It worked for me, some days more than others. If I was particularly anxious, it would help to calm me down a little bit.

Another thing we learned, at the outpatient therapy program, was the topic of self-talk. I never realized how much your self-talk affects everything in your life – your relationships, how you view yourself, and your goals and dreams. I found that when I focused on my self-talk, I talked very negatively to myself like, "you are stupid" or "that was dumb" or, "you don't look right" or "you are acting weird." It was actually a lot of work to change the way I self-talk- it took a lot of effort. Around that time were my worst attempts at self-talk. I would try hard to change it after the program. I still have some negative thoughts today but I do see an improvement in that area.

I particularly liked the recovery/wellness plan. It is a plan on how you can get better after getting sick. It has the steps you should follow to prevent and deal with getting sick. I thought it would be useful to keep.

I was able to help the people there as well with one of my own ideas. I had suggested one time to the group that everyone keep a journal like I had. I might have even brought my journal with me. There was one man in the group who had said what a good idea that is. I explained how if you journal and just write a couple sentences, and rate your day, you have history to go back to and revisit - maybe there is something you were doing during a period of 8 or 9 rated days, that you aren't doing now. Everyone thought that setting up a journal like that was a great idea. I was happy that I could help people struggling with the same issues as me.

My mom and I had a meeting with my assigned therapist Julie. We focused on my anxiety and all the tools I was learning about on how to deal with the anxiety I was experiencing. Julie said that I was doing really well in the program.

Around spring of 2010, I went to Starbrooke Medical Center to observe in the lab there. The director of the lab was nice and she let me come in and observe a few days. I had to buy scrubs as that was required to volunteer in the lab, and I knew I would be using scrubs when I started school. She introduced me to everyone, and I observed things such as making slides, using the microscopes, and blood banking. It seemed like I could do it and I got a generally positive feeling about it. The only part that made me nervous was when I observed the phlebotomist drawing blood. I kept thinking that I could get through a couple blood draws required in the med tech school, and then never have to draw blood again, as medical lab technologists are mostly just inside the lab.

I continued with the yogalates. I would go once a week. It kept me feeling healthy. I went to Beth and the same group I had been going to all along.

In April, my mom and I went to Ohio to visit my Aunt Barbara and Uncle Ed. I was terrified of the plane ride. So was my mom. It was only about a 45 minute plane ride but I have a fear of planes. I could hardly breathe thinking about the plane ride. I was almost having a panic attack – my heart was racing, and I was feeling sweaty and out of control. The worst part was the take-off and the landing because I had researched that those are the most dangerous times of a plane ride. I have not been on a plane since and hopefully I won't need to for a while as I have a fear of flying.

We stayed at my Aunt Barbara and Uncle Ed's house for about three or four days while in Ohio. We enjoyed our visit and went sight-seeing. I saw my cousin Ed and his two children, Emily and Liam. I brought papers with me from the outpatient program and showed them. My Aunt Barbara read through them all. They thought it was great and I was doing well. However, I was still working on the anxiety.

James and I continued dating that summer up to when I got sick. We had planned a vacation in Florida to visit one of his friends. I was looking forward to it in some ways and some ways not. I was scared of the plane and did not have the energy to do a lot there. I would have chosen to just sleep and relax in the hotel the entire time, while James wanted to go on all the rides and do everything possible. I just didn't have that energy, and I wouldn't want to hold him back from things he wanted to do. Then again, he had no idea how depressed and anxious I was - or that I had bipolar disorder. I ended up having to cancel the trip with James. My sister used the time share in Florida with people she worked for because I ended up being admitted to the hospital during the time James and I had planned to go away.

My neighbor friend, Cathy, and I started walking a lot that summer. We would go in the morning to parks and just walk and catch up on how everything was going. We would go a lot. It was nice being at all the places I had previously run cross-country at.

Since I was still waiting for lab classes to start at Maple University Medical Center, I considered working so I put a flyer out for employment as a companion to an elderly person. I got a call back from someone in the neighborhood named Mary. Her mother was 100 years old and needed someone to just be with her during the day. I went a couple times and earned some extra money. Mary was nice and it wasn't too hard just to make sure the lady, Gertrude, was ok. I would help with her lunch and snacks.

I went downhill in July. However, it wasn't with anxiety. This time it was mania. I could not sit still. I kept getting up and walking all around. I couldn't sleep well. I couldn't drive anymore. I was back on strong medications. We went to Dr. Kadam. He tried me on a new antipsychotic but nothing was helping.

When I was watching Gertrude, I was getting sick. I was drinking all their soda in their refrigerator and when I went to put the empty can in the recycle bin outside, I was scared to step into the sun. I would only stand in the shade and toss the soda can into the bin hoping it would make it in there.

One day, when I was sick, my sister's friend and her kids came over to be with me while my dad had to leave for an appointment. When they were leaving, I was going to follow them out the door and I wanted to leave with them. I remember Devora calling my sister saying, "No she is not OK, she can't be here alone," and my sister told her to go next door and get my neighbor. She got Cathy, my neighbor friend, to come over and stay with me.

I was very sick. I was just standing outside my house with Cathy and my other neighbor, Andrea, was outside also. She got me a glass of water and showed me a magazine. My mom came home early from work I think. I also never got dressed that day – I was wearing my robe I had gotten for X-mas, in July, when it was so hot out. I didn't really think anything of it at the time.

Also, I was staying up all night in the living room. I would just have the TV on and walk back and forth and around the kitchen table. I was afraid of everything – books, lights, and pictures. I was up all night. I remember seeing the sunrise. I even let the cats outside in the back, which I never feel comfortable doing, in case they get lost. My mom and sister always let the cats out, so they are used to it.

James was confused about the way I was behaving recently. He came over and we were in our backyard with my mom. All of a sudden I felt afraid and screamed at the top of my lungs. We all had to run inside as fast as we could. My mom and James were very worried about why I had done that. I'm still not sure today what I was particularly afraid of.

My mom and I made a recipe we got from when we went to Ohio – it was chocolate and peanut butter candy bars. We made it and I ate practically the entire pan of it in one day. I was just eating everything and anything.

My dad told my mom he saw me in the kitchen sitting there and combining all foods and eating them. He said I sat down and drank a half a gallon of milk. He said I was acting strange.

I was also terrified of taking a shower. My mom had to start the shower for me and stand near the door the entire time I would take a shower.

I also went to my cousin's wedding and I was not myself at all. I just felt like I was wandering all around, and my mom had to watch me wherever I went, in case I walked outside and got lost.

It got to the point where I had to go back to the outpatient therapy center. When I went there, I was not in good shape. I was anxious and pacing and out of it completely. I saw the psychiatrist there and he must have said I needed help. I signed papers but there were no rooms in their facility there, so they were figuring out where I would go.

My mom called Gail and asked what she thought we should do. Gail said call Dr. Kadam. When my mom called Dr. Kadam he told her to send me to Well Hospital, the hospital he worked for.

### Chapter 23: Summer 2010 - Another Hospitalization

Before I went to Well Hospital, I went to the crisis unit at Cedar Bridge, where I had been years ago, the first time getting sick. I remember the ambulance ride. I remember telling the man who was putting me into the ambulance that I trusted him and that he was a good person. I don't think he said anything back – he probably knew I was very sick and psychotic, as I was coming from a behavioral health program. The ride in the ambulance while I was looking out the back felt like a mile a minute. It looked like cars whizzing by and everything was really fast. It was a weird feeling.

The crisis center was actually the same unit I had been in, in 2004 after coming home from Silva. I was a mess. I was talking out loud, laughing hysterically - a complete mess. When they gave me my dinner, I didn't even know what it was. I was pouring salt into my tea and putting butter on cake- I do not specifically remember what foods they were but I remember I was mixing everything up and eating it.

Soon after I got to the crisis center, they gave me scrubs to wear. Because of this, I believed I was a surgeon. I was ready to start walking around the hospital and doing operations. I thought that at any minute I was going to start doing rounds around the entire hospital and doing surgeries. I don't even like the sight of blood and I get grossed out just with getting blood taken, but when manic, I am a delusional and different person. If someone brought me in to an operating room, I would have done surgery. I was very delusional at that point. I was most delusional at the crisis center- even more than in the hospital.

My mom came to visit me and she had me take my contacts out, as I would not have done so myself. It was a good thing that she remembered for me to take my contacts out, as no one there would have known I was wearing them. She said that everything was going to be ok and I was doing ok – I just have to get back to being healthy.

That night, I was put in another ambulance and taken to Well Hospital. I don't really remember this particular ambulance ride – I must have been pretty out of it. I would be at Well Hospital from July 14th, to August 12th.

Well Hospital is a regular hospital with a psych unit. It is about a half hour from my house. The psych unit is shaped like a "u". I went to Well Hospital extremely manic and psychotic, and I left very healthy. It was a positive experience. I was there for about three weeks.

When I entered the hospital, like I said I was a complete mess. I was crying, laughing, pacing, and psychotic.

My room was on the left side. I had roommates most of the time. Towards the end, I had my own room with my own bathroom. I wasn't taking care of myself too well in the beginning but towards the end of my stay I was taking better care of myself and more interested in showering, doing laundry there, and looking well.

Whenever I just arrive at a hospital I am very confused. At Maple, High Tower, and Well Hospital as well - I am always confused when I arrive at a hospital because I am usually in a manic state. It's like I feel I am in a hospital, but not completely sure. It is when I realize I am sick and in a hospital because of the manic episode that I begin to rationalize again and get better and plan on going home.

Well Hospital was a great hospital. There were many valuable meetings every day. There was always something to do there to keep busy. I was also more mature and knowledgeable about my illness, and I would participate and learn things in the meetings they had every day, throughout the day.

There were many meetings on health and nutrition. One particular meeting was about sleep. We got information about how to fall asleep easier, which I definitely needed then, in the future and even today. The therapist recommended such things as making sure the light is out, not having caffeine for six hours or more before sleeping, and things to drink before falling asleep such as decaffeinated tea.

Other meetings were about nutrition and exercise. They stressed that a balance between both eating well and exercising is important. When coming out of manic episode, it is extremely important for me to eat healthy and exercise, as the Zyprexa causes weight gain. Other meds can cause initial weight gain as well.

I particularly liked the art-therapy meetings. The therapist would tell us to draw certain things, like your goals, what makes you happy...There were pastels, colored pencils, and crayons to choose from. I liked the pastels and colored pencils. I drew the way I wanted my room to look, a lot. I was moving my bedroom in our house from upstairs to downstairs because my dad was moving into a house with his girlfriend. I drew ideas of where I wanted my furniture placed, and new things I wanted to buy for my room such as a desk, lamp, and new comforter. I was looking forward to going home to set up my room, and for the first time, I realized I would leave healthy and this was a place to get better. I didn't mind staying at Well Hospital until I felt very healthy. I rarely asked to go home, like in the other hospitals.

In art therapy, we would draw pictures of things that made us happy. I drew pictures like winning a cheering competition in 8th grade and getting into medical technology school. These were happier times.

Things I could not express in words I expressed through art. I was so enthusiastic about the art therapy that when I went home I would continue to draw and paint. I even do that today. It is very therapeutic for people of all ages. I believe pictures really are worth a thousand words. I believe what you cannot express in words you can express through art.

There was also a basketball court outside. I would play basketball whenever I felt restless. It was therapeutic because it gave me something to focus on. I made a lot of baskets and felt proud just for accomplishing that. It is funny how my goals as big as becoming a pharmacist one day can turn the next day into goals as so simple as making a few baskets. Every goal is important however- large or small. Sometimes, I feel that small goals are more important in the long run because they are your steps to bigger goals.

The other residents were nice – there were no problems with any of them. We would share our artwork and play basketball together. There was a lady there who gave me a small flower and put it in my hair. There was a man who would joke with me when we played basketball. I was not fearful of any resident regardless of why they were there. I knew they were trying to get better like I was trying to get better, and we all had struggles that we were dealing with.

I saw Dr. Kadam, my regular psychiatrist who was the head of Well Hospital, almost every day. My mom said he had called her and said, "I never saw her like this before!" Some days when Dr. Kadam would come in to talk to me, I would cry hysterically. Other days I would start laughing. I was all over the place. I felt comfortable that it was my doctor who was the head of the unit- particularly because he had seen me when I was well. He had seen how functional I could be. He wouldn't lose hope and want to commit me to other places such as High Tower had done. He knew that I was capable of getting better.

My mom, dad and Sue, and my sister came to visit me a lot. They brought me gifts, books, and scrapbooking supplies. Everyone wanted me to get better again.

My dad visited me by himself once. I felt that we weren't as close sometimes as I wished we could be. This was because of my bipolar disorder, and anxiety and such. When he visited me alone we made a list of 20 things I like to do. On the list, we wrote such things as yoga, pilates, walking, TV shows, music I like, and hobbies. I remember saying, "I love you," to him and he told me he loved me. I started crying when he left and told the nurse that I hadn't told him I loved him and how supportive he was in a very long time.

My cousin Paulie came to visit me one afternoon as well. Paulie and my mom came together and he drove. We went into a small room to talk. My cousin was concerned about me and said to stay strong and get better, which I did. He later gave me some books to read, as he would often give me gift cards to bookstores, since he knows I love to read.

There was a psychiatrist who stopped by my room one evening and asked me if I wanted to just take a look at a video about ECT. At Maple, I was younger and was terrified at the thought but this time, I thought hey why not look at the video. I could just forget everything stressful and just go on disability forever.

I wasn't afraid of ECT anymore. I was thinking I would be under anesthesia and it would be a way out of my life. If I had ECT I would forget things and not be able to work and just go on disability. However, I am quickly reminded by my friends and family that I should never give up. I am also reminded by certain inspirational words, movies, and songs that I should never give up. I will not seek ECT or agree to it in the future, at least not as long as I have someone supportive in my life.

I told my mom and sister about watching the ECT video, and they got very upset and said definitely not. In 2006, we had a friend of Brian's, who is a lawyer, give my mom and sister power of attorney. I signed it under no circumstances did I want ECT. It is important I had my family to speak up for me as I think differently when in the hospital and could have agreed to try ECT.

There were hard days at Well Hospital. There were times when I would actually fall on the floor crying. There was a night when I went into this room, which had two parts to it, and just talked out loud the entire night. I talked about things since getting sick at Silva and everything I thought I had done wrong. I tried to reason out why I was bipolar. No one was listening – I was completely alone in the room and was talking out loud to myself for hours. I was jotting things down for hours. I would talk about all the people whom I thought I had hurt and disappointed. I think I finally fell asleep in the bed in that room.

I also wrote constantly while I was there – in meetings and in my room. I would write down everything from the daily schedule to what I was planning that day, to life goals. I would write a book of "apology letters," in which I apologized to people I thought I had hurt.

I wrote letters to my immediate family saying that I loved them. I wrote to my mom and dad that I loved them and thanks for their support. I wrote to my sister a lot. Whenever I get sick, I realize I am not as close to her as I wish I could be. I wrote things like, I'm sorry we aren't as close as we were in 2004 and 2005, and I don't know what happened and I love you. I was writing her a poem to frame about how much I loved her.

I also wrote to my therapists. I wrote to Gail that I felt I was a burden and a hard patient to treat. I wrote how I was sorry she had to deal with me as a patient because of all my problems.

I wrote to my past therapist, Michelle, that I'm sorry I copied her - like what she would wear because I wanted to be like her. I would copy her outfits such as jean skirts and tank tops. Now, I'm sure this wasn't necessarily a bad thing. I take a lot of what I admire from other people – such as good traits, hairstyles, and clothes. Instead of being jealous, like how some other people may get, I learn from people I look up to. I also wrote to Michelle that I was sorry for stopping the Lithium and getting sick.

I wrote to teachers as well. I wrote to every teacher I had for a major I had changed- such as the biology teacher at Silva - "I'm sorry for not continuing with biology." I wrote to speech professors at Stenton that I was, "Sorry for giving up on speech therapy," and I wrote to many other people as well. The book was completely filled up, almost.

In case someone might have read all these apology letters and thought I was suicidal, I wrote in the front I am not planning to commit suicide, and printed and signed my name. These were things I truly felt I had disappointed people on. I still have that book at home. Maybe one day I will actually show the people those letters I wrote to them.

We also did different crafts. I still have a blue box that I had painted there, in my room today. Also in my room are my Turning Key Recovery Center stone and my St. Richard courage stone.

I especially liked playing basketball there as it got all my energy out. The other residents were nice and would play with me. I actually made a lot of hoops. I would always get up and ask the nurse's aide if I could go outside and play basketball. At Maple and High Tower I could never go outside. At Well Hospital I went outside every day to play basketball. It was nice going outside to breathe in some fresh air.

Another reason I liked Well Hospital was because Dr. Kadam was there. It was comforting to see someone who had been with me the past couple years. He always told me what was going on and when he said "You are going home Thursday, Melany," he meant I was going home Thursday. I always could trust him. There was no confusion about what was going on. He was very direct with me and I felt he knew I was capable of getting better and that this was just another bump in the road.

The nurses were nice as well. There was one nurse who would walk up and down the halls with me as I was pacing. I don't know her name but she was very nice. There was one nurse who would give me my meds. She was very nice as well. There was a nurse who would be by me when I would run down the hall and lie on the ground and cry hysterically. I never felt alone and desperate the way I did in the other hospitals. I would have not gotten better without such great and caring nurses.

James and I were planning to go to Florida around the time I was hospitalized. Instead, my sister went with someone she works for as a respite, Jackie, and the respite's parents. They stayed in the time share and took many pictures. When my sister visited me she would bring scrapbooking things. One night when she came, we made a scrapbook together for Jackie and her parents using an album and stickers. It was therapeutic for me to do that and I was glad I could help. Tiffany said I am great at doing scrapbooks. She said I did a good job and they loved how it came out.

There were various meds they tried at first because I was so manic. They varied here and there, but I ended up back on Lithium, Lamictal, Trazodone, and Zyprexa. Dr. Kadam tried other meds, probably newer ones without as many side effects, but my mom said the Zyprexa is the one that works. So Dr. Kadam started me on a high dose, 30mg Zyprexa, around the second week. By the third week I was healthy enough to go home.

I knew I was feeling well enough to go home was when I really got used to the schedule. Well Hospital had a schedule written up on a board in the main room. It says what time breakfast is, what time art therapy is, and visiting hours, etc. In the beginning, I was confused, manic, having racing thoughts, crying and laughing, but by the end of my stay as my awareness increased, I was aware of the daily schedule.

I would write on papers the date and the schedule and check off what I did each day, even writing when I would go to the rest room. I would check everything off as I did it. When Dr. Kadam said I was going home that Thursday, I wrote it down. And I did go home that day- there was no long delay like in the past.

When I went home, my parents came to pick me up. I packed up the things I had in my room, including everything I had written, painted, and colored. We left. It was the surreal feeling again like I was back into the real world taking deep breaths of air. When I got home, I looked forward to everything I had planned in the hospital - such as decorating my room and doing artwork. I was also scheduled to start medical technology in September. When I got home it was August, about two weeks prior to when the medical lab technology school was starting.

When I got home, I had a plan to get ready for med tech school. I was going to take the meds, eat healthy, exercise, plan my room arrangements, and be ready for school.

I also did jigsaw puzzles a lot. They keep your mind off of anything sad or stressful, and I am good at puzzles and find them fun to do. I decided that I would pick out puzzles where I really liked the picture and glue the pieces together and frame it when I was finished. The puzzles especially helped with my restlessness and nervous energy. I would sit and channel my energy into finding the pieces that fit together. I would get up and take a break and then go back to the puzzle. It was very calming doing jigsaw puzzles.

I was happy I was able to be home for my birthday. My immediate family and I had cake and they got me gifts. My sister and her respite got me a note pad that said, "dream," and things for my new room downstairs. My neighbor friend Cathy came over and gave me balloons and gifts, including books with word-finds and crossword puzzles. I was grateful for those books as they kept me busy as well.

I ended up breaking up with James because I was in no condition to be in a relationship. It was more of a break than a break-up. I had not wanted him or any of my friends to visit me in the hospital because in the hospital I am really sick. I needed time and space from my relationship with James to get myself back together – pick up where I had left off.

We redid my room the way I had planned. My dad had moved into a house with Sue. Brian helped move my furniture from upstairs to downstairs. I moved everything around similar to the artwork I had made of my room while in the hospital. It came out nice. The room was a lot bigger than the one upstairs. I bought a new comforter – grey with circles on it. I got a standing mirror from my sister and Brian, and a small fountain with stones in it from my mom, for my new room. Both added interest and charm to my decorating.

My mom's work friends, Gale and Marge, gave me get well gifts. Gale brought puzzles from her home for me to do because she knew how therapeutic and relaxing it was for me to do and keep busy with.

I started walking again at the community college. My mom would drive me and read her book while I would walk for about a half hour. I started losing the weight I had gained from the Zyprexa.

In September, we started to lower the Zyprexa. I was feeling better and on the road to recovery once more.

### Chapter 24: Trying Again

I was more than ready for med tech school in September 2010. I had bought all different binders and a bag for books. I had outfits picked out that I would wear. I had two pairs of blue scrubs and a new pair of sneakers. I was ready.

I kept in touch with Melissa, my counselor at vocational rehab, who was going to provide funding for my tuition and books for the medical technology program. I sent her info on what books were required and she put the order in and vocational rehab paid for all of my med tech books, along with my tuition. I got the books within two weeks of starting the school. There were lots of them – microbiology, hematology, immunology.... I had lots of binders and notebooks as well. I was looking forward to the program.

The first day of med tech school, my mom drove me in, as I wasn't driving yet. I got there and met people who were also in the class – there were about 20 of us total. I was one of the ten medical lab technologists and there were ten medical lab technicians who came from a community college. Everyone there seemed like great students and appeared like they were really passionate about medical technology. Everyone seemed very intelligent as well.

The first day was at Maple University Medical Center. I was excited about everything. I couldn't wait to study in the lab and even just to get my name tag picture done. It was such an exciting experience to start the program and I was so happy I was well enough to be there, considering only a month earlier I was still in the hospital.

The plan was for three weeks of lectures to be held at a center located down the road from the medical center. After three weeks, we would have lectures as well as lab rotations on alternating days. The only thing I was particularly anxious about was that I was going to have to take blood. In my mind, I decided that I would just somehow get through that phlebotomy class with the 50 required blood draws. I was pretty sure that would be the last time I would have to take blood because it was not required for the med lab tech career, as we would be working only in the lab – at least in a bigger hospital.

I met a couple friends the first few days. One friend I would carpool with a lot. There was a big difference between the other students' science background and mine. I only had freshman biology and chemistry at Silva, while their past classes were ones such as organic chemistry and biochemistry. I didn't have enough background information and experience as I had thought. I could have learned it but not at a fast pace. I would have needed a year in advance to prepare.

I remember my hands were very shaky. I was doing a chemistry problem on a dry erase board and my hands were shaking so much I could hardly write. The chemistry teacher looked worried that my hands were so shaky and said to get a drink of water. I feared that my hands would be shaking in the lab when holding test tubes and slides.

When it came time for lab rotations, I was excited. I had my books and was wearing my new navy blue scrubs. The lab just wasn't as I thought it would be. I was not that good at it. It just didn't feel right. I liked the program, the teachers, and my fellow classmates, but lab work just wasn't for me. There was a lot of complicated technology that I thought I could grasp but I didn't have enough experience to understand all of it. I was getting very stressed out and did not believe I could do the program. I was studying five hours a night and was just about making it. I didn't want to just get by with 70s – I wanted to do great. I felt too stressed and it wasn't for me. Also, computerized machines were beginning to replace the manual lab work, which I found complicated and not interesting enough. It just was not for me.

It was a tough decision to quit medical technology school but I had to do it. It was too stressful for me and I had to think about my health. I had a science background but it was not strong enough for this program. I couldn't learn it all that quickly and I couldn't afford to be stressed out.

When I decided to quit the medical lab school, I drove down to talk to the director. I remember it was pouring rain that day and I felt like crying on the way there. She encouraged me to stay but I decided not to. I told her that it just wasn't for me and wasn't what I expected. She wished me luck and I left. I still kept in touch with some friends from the school online. I saw their graduation picture. I showed Gail the pictures of them standing outside on their graduation day in their white lab coats. I was happy for them but I knew if I were there, I wouldn't be happy in that particular career.

We went to Dr.Kadam soon after I was feeling better. He had just been my doctor at Well Hospital, those three weeks in July and August. He was disappointed that I didn't go forward with the lab school, but he agreed that I was doing well and in recovery.

I began looking for other work options. I decided to go back to what I was doing before – teacher assistant. I did not want to go back to Benson School because I had been sick and I just wanted to start something new and fresh.

I applied to a couple schools. My hands were shaking a lot from the Zyprexa. It took me an hour to fill out a one page application because I had to practice writing every sentence so it would not look shaky. When I went on interviews, I was afraid of filling out paperwork because my hands were so shaky. I thought the interviewer would not want to hire me.

I went out with James again for a couple weeks. It was just too much for me. I didn't feel like going anywhere – especially to any parties or out to dinner with his friends and family. I wanted and needed to be alone and get myself back together. I broke up with him through text and he took it kind of hard and was hurt that I never told him about being bipolar. That's why in all future relationships I will always disclose that I have bipolar disorder by the second date, and let the cards fall where they may.

I started up with yogalates again. I made the last class that Beth had on the beach. It was mid-October when the weather is beautiful on the beach. It was nice seeing Cookie again \- Beth's dog. It was good to get back into yogalates, as it helps my stress level tremendously, and keeps me in shape as well.

I went back to Gail and we got right back to my goals. We decided that I would get better through meds and exercise. Gail believed I was ready to work again. She felt bad that the lab school was not for me - after I had shown her all my books the previous session, but she understood why I didn't go forward with it, and she motivated me to try something new. I decided on trying to be a teacher assistant. I knew I could do that since I had done so at Benson School.

I applied and called many schools- most of which were not hiring at the time. Finally, I got a call from the Children's Center of Ellis, which was far for me to drive – about 45 minutes. Since I had not heard back from countless schools I had sent my resume to, I decided to go for the interview there.

My dad drove me to the interview. There were a few people to be interviewed. We got a tour of the school. I ran into one of my sister's friend's ex-girlfriend and she was happy to see me and recommended to them that they should hire me.

I was nervous all the way there, while my dad was driving, worried that my hands would start shaking while I was filling out the application. I worried the entire half hour. When it came time to fill out the application, I tried to be as calm as possible to control the shaking. It looked a little shaky- my writing, but for the most part it looked legible and ok.

I got a call a few days later that I was hired for the job. I was very happy. Somehow, now I had to learn how to drive there. It was challenging with a lot of new roads I never traveled before. There many roads with twists and turns and some where people merged on. It seemed difficult to me at that time.

My mom and I wrote down directions about the best way to go. The route we decided on took 45 minutes. I practiced it over and over – sometimes twice a day on weekends.

The first couple days of work, I still did not feel confident that I could drive there, so my dad drove me and picked me up.

I was excited for the first day of work. I watched an orientation video and was placed in Jenna's class, who had about ten special education students. I really liked it initially but then as time went on, I wasn't improving and I learned that I was not assertive enough.

Also, I became depressed because that naturally follows mania, and because I had really gained a lot of weight – I was 158lbs. I tried dieting and walking but nothing was working. I was eating out of depression and out of stress and hunger from Zyprexa.

I began taking a lot of pictures of myself again. I thought I looked fat and horrendous in all the pictures. I would take a picture before I left the house to make sure I looked normal. I would envision people looking at me and laughing about how crazy I looked. It was a genuine fear even though to some people that would sound very silly.

2010 was kind of an ok year for me. The beginning started with plans to go to medical technology school, and with a new boyfriend. However, it continued with another hospital stay and a break up, and a disappointment at medical technology school. I did get the job at Children's Center of Ellis and I was happy about that but I just wasn't myself again. I lost a lot and had to start all over again.
Chapter 25: 2011- A Dynamic Year

I continued working at the school throughout the school year. In the middle of the year, I was switched to another class. The kids were easier there but I still wasn't assertive enough. Some of the students were in their teenage years and very strong. Sometimes they would become physical and strike out. It was more intense than at Benson. It was not what I had envisioned, and certainly not good for my stress level. I didn't feel in control.

I started looking into other careers. I was thinking of sign language interpreter again, dental assistant, paralegal, and medical transcription. I researched all the careers over and over. I called and emailed people.

Gail and I worked hard to find the right career for me. We weighed pros and cons and narrowed down certain careers. We agreed that the sign language interpreter career would be hard because you are a performer and people watch you. We decided that paralegal would be hard because you have to talk on the phone a lot and meet with people. We decided against the dental assistant because you have to talk to people a lot and calm patients down who get upset. Also, it would be stressful working directly with the dentist.

We decided medical transcription seemed fit for me. I looked into information about medical transcription – the job responsibilities, background, and career outlook. I talked to someone in the field. It seemed good but they said there weren't many jobs now and they recommended medical coding. I read what a medical coder does and some of the background info and decided that was for me- that would be my career. It just felt right.

I learned that medical coders assign codes to different diagnoses. They use the background of anatomy and physiology and disease processes to determine the appropriate code. Skills such as attention to detail are required to be a medical coder – which I have. You do not have to meet with any patients, talk a lot on the phone, or talk in front of anyone to be a coder. This is how I knew that medical coding would be for me. I could use the science background I gained from Silva College to help me determine codes for diseases and procedures. The career was right for me, as I am still in the field of medical coding today – as a medical auditor.

I decided on taking a medical coding program at MCC, which is about 15 minutes from my house. It is where I took the sign language class. The medical coding classes weren't that expensive but I had to save for each class through the salary I was making as a teacher assistant. The vocational rehab could no longer pay for me because I had gone through too many career changes in their program – speech pathology, school media specialist, and medical technology. I started a class in June, and also quit working at Children's Center of Ellis in June.

The first class I took at the college was Medical Terminology. It was on Monday nights. I loved it. It was so interesting how medical terms are formed- how you can break down the words. I did all the practice questions in the book and wrote my own notes as well. I really loved it.

I would go to the beach and bring my medical terminology book with me and make note-cards of the terms. I felt so happy because I knew this was the career for me. I just knew it.

After I was done working at Children's Center of Ellis, I had to find a way to make money to pay for the medical coding classes. I applied to jobs online at hospitals. I got a call back from Ellis Medical Center to be a one-on-one. After test-driving there, I decided it was too far. I applied for many data entry and filing jobs, but no one called back.

Finally, I walked into Path Nursing Home, the nursing home where I used to volunteer, to see if there were any jobs in activities. After talking to Brenda, the previous activities director from when I was volunteering, I got a call from Eileen – the current activities director at that time. She told me that she heard such nice things about me from Brenda that she hired me on the spot. I felt really good about myself that she had hired me, without even meeting with me in person, based on Brenda's recommendation.

I was excited about the job at Path Nursing Home because I had volunteered there before and I needed a job to pay for the medical coding program. I told my mom and Gail that I was hired. They were very happy for me.

Orientation was a few days after I got hired. I bought some new clothes as a reward for getting the job. Not many- just a few shirts and a watch. I think I bought earrings as well. My mom paid for the shirts as a gift for getting the job.

The first day of orientation, I met Sue and Theresa, whom I would work with on the same unit- the Alzheimer's unit. We got a tour of the nursing home, watched videos, and got our name tags and codes for the clock-in machine. Sue and Theresa were extremely friendly and it made me feel so good that I had nice people to work with. Also, I felt less nervous because the three of us were all learning together.

When Eileen said I was going to work on the Alzheimer's unit, I had mixed feelings. I knew that I would be helpful to them because I have feelings for people going through hard things because of my own bipolar disorder. I can relate to people going through hard times in their lives. However, I was not sure if I was assertive enough to tell them to sit down when they need to or direct them to do something. I decided to just try it and to not request another unit. Little did I know that I would meet some of the nicest residents I ever met in the Alzheimer's unit. I became extremely attached to them, and actually was of some help just by making their day a little bit better in any way I could - whether it be talking to them, giving them a doll to hold, or just giving them a simple smile or hello. It was very rewarding.

The first day, Sue, Theresa and I worked on the unit together. We mostly just observed. We met Patty – the unit supervisor, and Claire, another worker on that unit. The unit was shaped like a square. There were 30 residents there – some shared a room and some had their own room. There was a dining area and nurse's station in the front. Towards the back there was a large lounge area with couches and a big TV.

It was a lot to learn at first. I worked so hard at remembering all the residents' names. What was especially important, as Patty taught us, was to learn who were "fall risks." A fall risk was someone who would try getting up and could fall - thinking that they could walk steadily. The fall risks had alarms on their chairs which would go off if they stood up. When they stood up, you had to run over and try to get them to sit back down, preventing a fall. It seemed overwhelming at first, and then I followed my coworkers' lead and was able to learn how to suggest to residents to sit down and to redirect them to something else.

After learning everything, I really began enjoying the job as an activities assistant. There were great coworkers. I got along great with the unit nurse Linda, the nursing aides, and all the activities staff. We were a great team. I met so many nice people that I still go back and visit today.

I did not tell anyone about having bipolar disorder. I decided I would only tell them if it were an emergency and if I had no choice but to tell them. For the most part, I acted normal and capable of working there.

I got to know the residents' family members as well. They would come often and participate in the activities. They were happy that their loved ones had a nice place to stay and were treated and cared for very well.

I researched activities for Alzheimer's disease and had a lot of ideas. There was a sensory room for nonverbal residents where you did aromatherapy and hand massages and put on a DVD that was calming and relaxing such as an ocean or meditation. In the afternoon, we put on videos about different animals. The sensory room was a place for the residents to relax and wind down.

There was a craft room. I would come up with ideas for simple crafts that often related to seasons and holidays. I would also play cards with them and do puzzles. The residents we would bring into the craft room were a little more verbal and able to do the crafts. After they made crafts, we would put them up on the wall.

Last, there was a main area with a big TV where we would put the residents in a circle around the TV. We would put on sing-alongs, play catch with balls, and put on shows from their time period.

There was a lot of feeding involved, as many of the residents could not feed themselves. I helped with feeding at meal times and during snacks. I was used to this because I had some experience feeding others at Children's Center of Ellis.

At times, it was emotionally hard for me. It was sad seeing the residents who were nonverbal and needed to be fed. There was one particular resident who would cry sometimes and miss her home. I found out that she loved making doll clothes and in the craft room I made paper dolls for her to make outfit combinations. Theresa later got her a set from a crafts store of magnetic doll making. Just to see how happy that made her made me feel better and turned the sadness into hopefulness.

Around the third week or so, a resident passed away. I was in shock and very upset. I was not used to it like the other staff. They told me that this is really their last stop. It made me sad. I started getting used to it when they would pass away, but it was still hard. I don't think I could have worked there long term because of this.

While I was going to coding school, I really enjoyed work and learned so much about Alzheimer's, and how to interact with the residents and just make their day a little better than it would be if I weren't there.

I would still take a picture before I left the house to make sure that I looked normal. But I wasn't as obsessive about it as before. I kind of forgot about how I looked because I was so much into the job.

During the summer of 2011, I continued with coding school. The Medical Terminology class was still going on. I was learning a lot and I loved what I was learning. We went over each section, such as digestive, and cardiology, and learned how to take apart the wording of diagnoses by the word structure. I also met Sally, the coding program director and she gave us advice about what classes to take for the coding program.

Sally told me to start with CPT and ICD-9 and insurance. ICD-9 is diagnoses and CPT is procedures. Sally said to plan to take the certification test in December. The certification test was a 5 hour, 40 minute test of coding questions that was open manual with your coding manuals. It was a test I would start preparing for as early as August, or September. It was expensive to take, but you did get one free try if you failed the first time. However, my goal was to pass it the first time.

Around my birthday in August, I got a desk for my room. My neighbor friend Anthony helped me put it together. It brightened up the room and I felt like I had a little office. I put all my coding books on the desk with my computer. I still have the desk today. It made me feel more focused and organized for coding school.

Fall, of 2011, was a good and healthy fall. I was at a good weight. I saw Dr. Kadam and my meds remained the same – there was no reason to change them. I felt balanced and focused. There were no major problems, except a little anxiety here or there.

During the fall, I was into festivities. I went to the pumpkin farm and got pumpkins and decorated for the fall. I made festive fall cookies. I planned to cook for Thanksgiving.

Because my sister and Brian were getting divorced, he moved out. To help with the rent and bills, we rented two rooms to a girl, a little older than me, and her daughter. My sister knew them through a friend. I didn't really have to adjust to them moving in because they were upstairs and I didn't really see them that much. I was hardly ever home, and when I was home, I was downstairs.

I became very close to the people I worked with. Sue, Theresa, and I were close and worked well together. They were great coworkers because they tried just as hard as I did. Together we learned all the names and who were fall risks. We all did our share of the work and we also had fun there. My supervisor Patty and I worked together on weekends (we worked every other weekend at Path Nursing Home and had off one weekday). Patty and I talked a lot and got to know a lot about each other's family and life outside of work. Patty also worked hard and we worked well together.

Not only did I work with activities staff, but also with nurses, aides, and therapists. While we provided activities, other staff showered the residents, helped feed the residents, and would often ask our advice on a resident because we were with them all day. We knew how each of their days was going - who was agitated, who was calm...our input was important to the other workers there, not just in activities.

I met an aide, Shakya, who would greatly enlighten me. He actually was a monk before he moved here from Tibet a couple years ago. He was just so kind and nice. We would go walking sometimes. He taught me a lot about being happy, focused and pure. He would always help me with a resident if I was having a hard time. Just being in his presence gave me a good feeling, and he always had good intentions for everyone. He got "employee of the month" out of all the employees in the entire nursing home in November of 2011. I congratulated him with a cake when Sue and I went over to his apartment for lunch one day before Thanksgiving.

When we went over Shakya's for lunch, he had a great meal ready that he had bought. We also had sparkling cider and the cake I had bought him for getting employee of the month. We talked about work, holidays, and all different things. We took some pictures. His apartment was beautiful. It was fun going there and I was happy that I met such good friends through work.

On Thanksgiving, I did most of the cooking. I cooked a green bean casserole, sweet potatoes, a corn soufflé, and helped my mom with the turkey. My dad and his girlfriend Sue, my great Aunt Trudy, and my sister Tiffany ate with us. They said they really enjoyed the food. I ate a little but I was using the day off to do practice coding tests.

I really enjoyed learning about the coding. I was working different hours and Eileen was very easy to talk to, and she was very accommodating in her schedule. I worked different hours like Monday from 8:45AM to 5PM and Tuesdays 1:45PM to 10PM and other days 11:45AM to 8PM. Eileen helped me plan hours so I could go to class Monday and Wednesday nights. I ended up taking Wednesday and Thursdays off, as I had a heavy class schedule.

In the class, we learned a lot about coding. It was fun tabbing out manuals and highlighting key points. We did many questions and we talked about the CPC exam often. I loved the material. Sally was a great teacher.

I learned in the coding class how to code diagnoses and procedures. Sally would say look up diabetes without complications and you would use the index to find that description and assign a particular code to it. It was the perfect work for me. I was so happy that I saw it in the continuing education brochure. I knew coding was for me. My feelings were right. Today I am currently a medical auditor, and I work with diagnosis and procedure codes every day.

As soon as I would come home from class I would already be starting the home work. Like I said, I knew deep down that this was the career for me. I just loved it.

I met a good friend in the coding classes. Her name is Karen, and we sat next to each other in the two coding class – ICD-9 and CPT. Karen and I talked a lot and prepared for the test together. When I ended up getting an auditing job, I recommended Karen. She currently works with me today.

November of 2011, was a good month. I started studying for the CPC exam a lot. I ordered practice tests and was constantly doing questions and studying. I would time 5 hours and 40 minutes and take practice tests. I would always get around a 70, which you needed to pass. The test was very difficult and the failing rate was very high. I knew I had to work hard and study hard if I wanted to pass the test. My practice scores were close to just making it- I didn't feel 100% confident.

Come December, I was very busy. I was working extra hours for people who couldn't make it in. One time, I worked nine or so days in a row, plus going to school. At work, we were busy with all the holiday events going on. There were parties and lunches – lots to do. Patty had the idea of picking two residents that normally do not get a lot of holiday gifts and each of the staff picking two names out of a hat to buy gifts for them.

I picked a man and a lady out of the hat. For the man, I got pajamas. The lady was the one who loved the dolls and jewelry. I got her bracelets, a fleece blanket, and make-up for her morning box. The morning box was each resident's make-up for the day and combs for their hair.

I also was making lots of cookies. I got into decorating sugar cookies and making chocolates. My neighbor friend Cathy taught me how to make chocolates. We would fill them with peanut butter and marshmallow and make chocolate covered pretzels and cashews dipped in chocolate. I also made sugar cookies with icing. I would bring them in to work for everyone's birthday. I also brought some into Sally's ICD- 9 class.

Gail and I worked to prepare me for the exam in December. My biggest concern was that I wouldn't be able to fall asleep. I envisioned myself not falling asleep and being up all night, and all the hours and days I put into studying would be wasted, and I would have to wait until May to take it again. Gail suggested drinking white hot chocolate, which was putting me to sleep and the Trazodone as usual. She also said that if I couldn't fall asleep my adrenaline would still be going and I would be able to still take the test, and then rest afterwards.

The days close to the exam, I was talking about the test a lot with my coworkers. They all wished me good luck. Shakya said not to worry, stay calm, and I will do good. I left work with confidence that I would pass the test but I was still worried about it.

The day of the test I was so nervous. It almost felt like the same nervous energy I had before a cross-country race in high school. I did end up sleeping great. I fell asleep around 9PM the night before and woke up refreshed and ready for the test. The test started early and ended in the afternoon, 5 hours and 40 minutes.

I remember the day like it was yesterday. I even remember what I wore- jeans and a maroon long-sleeve tee and a black sweater over it. I got to the test early and brought my three manuals with me – ICD-9, CPT and HCPCS. I brought a good supply of pencils. Sally recommended bringing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich divided into fours, a drink, and snacks to keep alert throughout the test.

I was so nervous driving there - all I was thinking was I have to pass. I was thinking I have to make all this studying pay off.

Karen got to the test a little after I did. She sat behind me and brought a picture of her dog for good luck. When everyone was settled, the tests were passed out. Soon, the clock started. I went in order of each question, skipping the ones I was unsure of or would take too much time. I felt pretty confident, although there were many I wasn't 100% sure of. I did my best throughout the test.

I would look at my watch to see how I was doing on time. Sally would announce every once in a while how much time was left. You would think that five hours would seem very long but it flew by. It seemed like only an hour at the most. I finished my test a little early and used the time I had left to check my answers – I might have changed one or two.

At the end of the test, I was drained. I was so nervous during the test that I didn't even eat or drink anything. When I got to my car, I was starving and ate the sandwich and had a drink.

Driving home, I just hoped I passed it – anything 70 or higher would be great for me. I got home and the questions were bouncing around in my head. I tried to write down all the questions I wasn't 100% sure of and looked them up to see if I answered correctly or not.

I still remember that afternoon. My mom came home with her work friend, Gale, and Gale met the renter's dog. I told my mom I think I did well on the test, but it was very hard and I wasn't going to get my hopes up.

Because I was starving, my mom and I went to the Chinese buffet and I got a lot of food. As the evening came, I started to wind down but was still anxious about how I did.

In the meantime, my computer crashed with a virus and that was frustrating. Shakya said I could go to his house and use his computer, but I didn't really need my computer as classes were over, so I wasn't in a big rush to go online.

It was a few days later in ICD-9, class when people learned what their grades were on the test. Some passed and some failed. One lady failed by one point. I asked them how they knew their score. Karen had passed and she said the test score was online.

When Sally came in we were all talking about the exam and certain questions that we had a hard time with. I couldn't wait to see if I passed, but I wasn't getting my hopes up. I asked Sally, if we didn't pass - when was the next test date? Sally said, "You won't be taking it again." It took me a couple minutes to process what she said. Then I realized she was saying I passed. I was ecstatic! I was so happy I couldn't wait to tell my friends at work and my family. I was beyond happy.

I realized I couldn't find my cell phone. I had been in an office store earlier that day where you can fax documents and buy paper supplies in, using one of their computers for my insurance class homework because my computer had a virus on it. I thought maybe I had left my cell phone there.

I got home and I called Shakya on my home phone to tell him I passed. He had been very supportive, and he had always encouraged me to stay calm and I would do fine. He was very happy and he congratulated me.

I went into the living room and told my mom that I have good news and bad news. She figured I didn't pass and would have to take it again. I said the bad news is that I can't find my cell phone but the good news is that I passed! She was very happy. We went to the store and I found my cell phone. I had left it on the counter when using the internet.

I continued work and making cookies. One day, in late December right before the holidays, I went over to my neighbor friend's house and we made a lot of chocolates as gifts to give everyone. We worked at it for hours. We started at four and worked until almost two in the morning. We made chocolates with peanut butter, marshmallow, raspberry, chocolate covered pretzels, and cashews dipped in chocolate. We made a lot of chocolates and the packaging took hours. We were all exhausted by the end of the night. I did have a lot of nice gifts to give to people of our homemade chocolates, but I was very tired from everything – especially the test. A lot of emotions went into the test and working so hard to pass it. I was happy, but also a little drained.

### Chapter 26: What Happened? December 2011.

Things began going faster. Everything was kind of spinning and my thoughts began racing. I had tons in my head such as songs and things other people would say that I remembered – all racing around up in my brain. I wasn't getting as much sleep and I started feeling off - like that manic feeling I am so familiar with.

At work, I wasn't myself and people noticed. I kept saying I didn't feel good or I felt nauseous, because I didn't want them to think anything was wrong. However, my gut feeling was telling me I was getting sick. I tried my best and used all my energy to fight it, but it wasn't working.

It was Christmas Eve when mania hit me head on. I couldn't work well. I felt like I wanted to just walk in circles around the unit. I was restless. I was very tearful. Theresa told me to go in to the sensory room with the residents and just take it easy. I couldn't really take care of the residents and I knew I was sick.

Everything around me was positive though. The resident's families had a nice lunch for the staff to thank us for taking such good care of their loved ones. They had plenty of food and desserts. I gave my two residents their holiday gifts and they loved them. Shakya, Sue, and I were making plans to hang out. I was making cookies and chocolates. I looked forward to going to work. I passed the CPC exam. Everything was positive around me, yet I was falling apart inside of me. It made me cry.

The last day I worked before I got sick, I was delusional. I believed the nurse on duty was the doctor from Maple University Medical Center because she had never been there before. She kind of looked like her. I thought she was there to watch me because she knew I was getting sick. I was scared. I also couldn't make the coffee for the residents like I always did every night. I would usually very quickly make more than a dozen coffees – each one different depending on sugar added or thickener. I was always right on top of it. This day however I made cups of coffee and couldn't remember which ones I put what in. I kept asking Theresa to try the coffees with a spoon and see which ones had what in them. I was extremely confused.

That night I came home and I started crying to my mom saying I need Zyprexa. I knew I was sick. That was the first time I actually recognized it myself before my mom or sister told me.

I went to work the next day, but I had to come home early. I couldn't work. I couldn't feed anyone because I couldn't sit still. I was teary-eyed. Things were not right. I was very sick.

I came home early and started a large dose of Zyprexa. I told my mom to call Eileen because I could not work anymore. She called Eileen and we got a note from Dr. Kadam saying that I couldn't work. My mom didn't tell Eileen about me having bipolar disorder - she just said I was sick.

At home, because of the large amount of Zyprexa, I basically just slept. Shakya called me and said to get rest and feel better, and he asked how I was doing since I wasn't at work. I said thanks and that I will get a lot of rest. I still did not tell him about having bipolar disorder.

My racing thoughts continued for a while. I was hearing things that people would say at Path Nursing Home such as, "You can put that over there," or "I'm going on break now" all day long. It wasn't like hearing voices telling me to hurt myself- nothing of that sort. It was just things that people have said and my brain was playing me a tape of it, along with songs in my head. The Zyprexa clears that out in about a week or so which is a great relief.

I stayed at home for a few weeks. I just pretty much ate and slept. My computer was still broken and I really didn't have anything to do. I just cooked food and slept, and I would go to stores with my mom when she got home from work. I wasn't driving again due to my strong medication at that time.

I did start driving again within a month and I started to become more alert. I decided to drive to the nursing home and talk to Eileen about why I couldn't work (she had just received a general doctors note saying I couldn't work). I felt it was her right to know and that I didn't just up and leave because of something that happened at work. It was no one's fault there, just my own brain chemistry.

I drove there myself and met with Eileen. I said to Eileen that I have bipolar disorder and I go up and down, and I recently had a manic episode. Eileen was very understanding and she said that a close friend of hers has bipolar disorder. Eileen and I visited the unit and I said hi to the residents and my coworkers. Everyone was genuinely very happy to see me.

I told Claire and Theresa that I wasn't there anymore because I had bipolar disorder but I am getting a little better each day. They were like, "Wow, you?" I guess even when extremely sick I must appear put together.

At home, I needed to keep busy. I was very restless. I couldn't just sit down and watch a movie or read. I bought a lot of puzzles. I got seasonal puzzles for the most part. My mom's friends, Gale and Marge, also gave me puzzles and crossword books. I did the puzzles on the kitchen table. I also made pictures of the ocean and the Stenton campus in large size and put them in frames in my room. I was so restless that I would try to keep busy. Even just doing laundry kept me busy for a couple of minutes.

I also painted a lot. I would buy the paint-by-numbers and just paint certain pictures such as puppies and cats or scenery. I would try and follow the paint-by-numbers or sometimes just paint the pictures with colors I chose. It was extremely therapeutic and I saved all those pictures. I even gave one to Gail.

I was eating healthfully. I was watching my weight. I also baked a lot, like banana muffins. I baked cookies for my family and to bring to Path Nursing Home.

At the time, my sister was planning on getting divorced from Brian, as they were having a lot of problems in their marriage. Her friend, Randy, helped bring the treadmill from upstairs down into my room and we rearranged my room. I walked a lot on the treadmill and lost a lot of weight I had gained from Zyprexa. I made Randy chocolates as a thank you gift.

Each day was a little better than the last. We saw Gail. She was concerned that I was sick but she was so happy the way I was handling it. I was keeping with goals each day and keeping busy – all the things necessary for recovery. Gail was extremely happy that I passed the CPC exam and she said that was such a big accomplishment. She encouraged me to take it day by day and let the medicine work.

I always ask Gail if I am going to ever get sick again and she always says "No I don't think so." And then I get sick and I ask "Why did I get sick?" She says I'm learning more about the stressors and what can make me sick and every time I am recovering faster and stronger. That makes me feel better. Knowing that if these manic episodes are inevitable, at least I can get better faster each time and not let it hold me back.

I gained a couple pounds from the Zyprexa but quickly lost them. I walked on the treadmill twice a day and ate extremely healthy – salad, wheat pasta, and fish. I would weigh myself all day. I went down from 149lbs to about 132lbs. It was quite an accomplishment, especially while on Zyprexa. Once I got down to the lower 130s, I was satisfied with my weight and I could fit well into all my clothes. When I go over 150 lbs, I need to get bigger size clothes to fit me. This time, I lost the weight fast from all the walking and kept healthy.

In February, my sister had a make-up party. I made tons of sugar cookies and a huge chocolate chip cookie cake. However, I wasn't able to go upstairs for the party. I spent the night walking around the kitchen table downstairs. I was still very restless. I could not sit for a five minute demo without having to get up and walk around.

It came time when I felt ready to volunteer at Path Nursing Home, instead of jumping back into work. Eileen scheduled me to volunteer Monday and Friday nights and Wednesday mornings. Everyone was happy to see me – Linda, Shakya, Theresa, Sue, Claire, Craig, Justin, and many more. It was a good experience, because I felt like this time getting sick I didn't lose everything. At my past jobs there were no "volunteer" positions, like at the nursing home.

As Claire and Theresa said, many people at work were very surprised I had bipolar, because I always seem collected, calm, and put together. They said, "You?" Bipolar?" Everyone, at Path Nursing Home, I told about having bipolar disorder were kind and open. They told me personal things, like a family member of theirs has bipolar, or depression, or schizophrenia. It made me feel accepted and not like an outcast or an abnormal person.

I also decided I wanted to volunteer at Starbrooke Hospital where my mom works. I wanted to volunteer in medical records because that was my career plan and I could learn more about medical coding. However, they didn't have an opening there so I volunteered in the volunteer office.

The first day volunteering I was nervous. However, the volunteer director, Tina, was very nice and always showed me step by step the things I was going to do. I told her I don't like talking on the phone and she was completely fine with that. She said there were many other things I could do, like filing papers, working on the computer, and putting brochures and such together. If she had said I had to answer phones all day I would have quit.

At home, I began spending a lot of time with my pets and noticing them more. Three of my cats were at home as well as a dog that belonged to the renters upstairs. Riley, the dog, would come down a lot and I let him out in the backyard a couple times a day. Crystal would come in my room and sleep on my bed. Coco, a black cat we had gotten recently from a shelter, was very playful and would follow me around the house. And Cloe was also around. If I didn't have pets at home, I would probably be lonely for the weeks it takes to recover from an episode, while everyone is at work. Again, I understand why pet therapy is so important. Pets really make you feel well and needed. They always give you a lift when you see them. They are great companions.

At home I began sleeping a lot. I slept during the day with the TV turned to a cooking channel. I stopped walking so much and just relaxed. Some days I would sleep four hours in the daytime. I still was able to fall asleep at night though.

### Chapter 27: 2012- A Year Dedicated to Being Healthy

By March, I was getting back to myself again and still volunteering at Path Nursing Home and Starbrooke Hospital. I had a busy schedule volunteering, which was good.

My coworkers at Path Nursing Home were pushing me to work again. They thought it would be good for me because I would tell them how restless I would get sometimes. They even suggested that the reason I got sick was just because I was studying for the CPC exam, and doing so much baking in between. They really showed that they wanted me to work there again as soon as possible.

As much as I would have loved to go back full-time or even part-time, I decided I would just stay as a volunteer and eventually look for work in medical coding – as that was what I had spent over $1000 on for the classes and books and passed the test. Gail actually recommended that I stay volunteering and eventually look for a career in the field I went to school for. I thought that was very good advice. And I could still volunteer at Path Nursing Home and see my coworkers and residents any time I wanted to, even if I got a coding job, since the nursing home is open all hours of the day and on weekends to volunteers.

While volunteering at the hospital, my mom and her coworker ended up downstairs in the volunteer office while their office was used as a walkway during renovations. It was nice volunteering with my mom, right there two desks away from me– I felt safe and comfortable.

When I was volunteering at the hospital, I typed up minutes for the administration meetings as well as doing basic work in the volunteer office. There was a lady, Anna, who was a secretary, and I typed her notes she got from the nursing department. It gave me confidence that I could do that and she always was very grateful. Like I said, goals change for me when I am sick. Goals went from passing an extremely hard 5 hour and 40 minute test to just driving to the hospital and volunteering for a few hours. However, simple goals lead to bigger goals and simple goals are the foundation to any big goal.

I decided I wanted to make a website to help other people struggling with mental illness. It had been an idea of mine for a while, but I never moved forward with it. Now that I had all this extra time, I decided to go forward with the website. I planned it all on paper first. I had ideas such as daily, weekly, and monthly goals and creating an individualized path to follow to reach health, wellness, and goals. It was a website created for people to go on and almost paint a picture of their goals in life, with realistic ways to achieve them. It also would have motivational parts such as pictures and quotes.

I also came up with my own method for wellness. I did not put it on the website yet. I named it "The Bounce Method to Achieve Serenity." You bounce away all negativity from your mind, like when you hear negativity or criticism, and absorb only the good words, compliments, and encouraging advice. As you follow this, your mind will become more and more serene and positive. I showed my mom and Gail. They both said it was a great concept.

I looked online at how to make websites and everything seemed too complicated. My sister's friend, Erica, works with computers and I asked her for help. She said she could definitely help me with it, and she knows how to do it and we could figure it all out together.

Erica came a couple times to work on the website, and we worked on it for hours. I was very happy with the finished project. It looked great. It has all things on the side menu you can click on such as goals, recommended eating, and inspirational songs, quotes, and such. I felt proud that I could channel all my good ideas onto a website. I told people I knew about the website, but I didn't really know how to get people I didn't know to view it.

I did print out little papers with the website address on it. I gave it to everyone at work. I also went to a support group meeting at a local hospital and gave the website out to all of those who attended.

The support meeting was for people with mental health issues. I wanted to go because I was looking for more support for bipolar disorder, and I also wanted to tell some people about my website, as I thought it may be of value to some of the people in the group.

My mom went with me to the group. We couldn't find what room it was held in at first, but finally we did. There were only one or two people there, but then more people started arriving. There must have been about 15 people or so.

The moderator introduced herself and then everyone in the group had a chance to say something about themselves, and others would listen and comment. A lot of people there seemed to know each other so they must have gone every week. Many of the people in the group had bipolar disorder or a family member with bipolar disorder or depression. A lot of us took similar medications and had similar side effects from the medications.

When it came my time to talk, I got nervous. I said a couple things about myself and about the website. I had my mom talk a lot in between, because I get nervous talking in a group. I passed around the papers with links to my website. I also brought a laminated sheet of my goals and my path. I'm not sure if anyone visited my website, but hopefully they did. They all were supportive and said I had great ideas. The two women sitting to the side of me really liked the goal sheets idea. They said how inspiring the goal sheets were.

I did not go to any more meetings because I really am not good at talking in front of a group, and I had so much support at home between my friends and family. Also, it was kind of a far drive.

Maybe one day I will find a way for many people to view the website and even leave comments. If one person could look at the website and use the goals on there, then that would be worth it.

I did email many of my friends and family and they all thought it was a great idea and could help people with other difficulties - not just bipolar disorder. The website is a site for people to go on and envision goals and then follow a path to get there. I still visit the site every once in a while just to look at it.

During the spring, a couple days a week I would go to my great Aunt Trudy's house. We would have tea and talk. My Aunt Trudy would give me lots of great advice about everything we talked about including school, guys, and cooking. We talked about everything together. It really helped going over to her house a couple days a week.

The rest of the spring I just volunteered at the hospital, and at Path Nursing Home. I wasn't planning to work at anything other than a job in medical coding.

I did get a little depressed and told Dr. Kadam. I started crying in his office. I just didn't feel like myself. He prescribed Lexapro again – a low dose. I started taking it right away and I did start feeling a little bit better – although not like it had worked before.

I went to the spring coding conference for my local chapter. I saw my teacher, Sally, who was the president. There were raffles and speakers. I did very well there. I did not have to leave early nor did I get anxious.

I started going to the nursing home just Mondays and Fridays. I would get to catch up with my coworkers there, and see the residents I became attached to. It was so sad to hear about one passing. It became hard, because since I was only going once or twice a week, I would often hear that one of them had passed. Nonetheless, I still continued volunteering and helped with snack time and giving out coffee to the residents. I also got to know a few of the newer ones I hadn't known before.

I continued volunteering at the hospital. I would file and put together different pamphlets. Tina was great and always reminded me how much she appreciated my help. I also helped set up for a volunteer dinner. I continued helping Anna by typing up the nurses' minutes for her.

I met a good friend while volunteering. One day, we were working on lots of brochures and extra help came down from the front desk. A girl, Jill, came down and we started just talking about regular stuff like hobbies and boyfriends. We planned on eating dinner together with my mom at 5PM, as we would be done volunteering. Jill has become a great friend to me and my mom. Even though I am not currently volunteering at the hospital, my mom and I still meet Jill for dinners on Thursday when my mom is done working for the day.

It came time, when I became very motivated to find a coding job. In Gail's opinion, she definitely thought I was ready for a full time job and encouraged me to find work in what I had gone to school for.

I contacted a medical office through a website that listed available places to intern. I went to the interview, and the main doctor in the practice said I could intern there. I was very excited. I went out and bought scrubs and showed up the first day with a notebook, ready to learn.

However, it wasn't what I expected. The girl training me had to answer the phone every couple seconds and ask a lot of questions of the doctors. She had to sign people in at the front desk. It just wasn't for me since I don't feel comfortable answering the phones. With all of the interruptions and all of her assigned tasks, we didn't spend much time on coding and I wasn't learning much at all. I thought I would be in a closed office just coding.

I felt bad quitting but I didn't want to waste my time there. Gail had suggested that I don't have to physically go back and tell them I quit, and to just call them on the phone and tell them and send a thank you note in the mail. That is what I did. It was nothing anyone did to me - just that front office work is not for me. I am an anxious wreck answering phones.

I ended up emailing Sally asking if she knew of any job openings. I told her how the doctors' office did not work out. Sally sent me an email about her friend needing an auditor on her team. I was happy that Sally thought I was smart enough to be an auditor, but I was afraid I couldn't do it. I had mixed emotions, but I did send her my resume.

In the meantime, I was taking a billing class at MCC every Monday night. Although it was similar to what I had seen in the doctors' office, I love learning so I stayed in the class throughout the summer. Also, it would give me a billing certificate to add to the coding one.

In order to gain more experience, I was also volunteering at another hospital, Cedar Bridge. It is actually the hospital I had been in twice in the crisis center. However, this time was a happier time as I was volunteering in the medical records office. The director was very nice and I did a lot of filing. Since I liked it so much, I was hoping a job opened up there. I really enjoyed medical records. However, because everything is going electronic, they were actually cutting down workers and hours. Yet, I knew medical records and coding was the fit for me and that made me feel so good. Over the past few years, I had been through a lot of careers to find the one that fit for me. It really was a big accomplishment Gail said.

I decided, after emailing my resume, to go forward with meeting Bridgette, the owner of the auditing company that Sally had suggested to me. Gail encouraged me to do so as well as Sally and my mom.

### Chapter 28: A New Job

It came down to the day in June when I was planning on meeting Bridgette, the president of the auditing company called Medical Analysis. I practiced driving there a couple days before so I knew where I was going, and I wouldn't be late or stressed about finding the location. I dressed very professionally and brought my resume with me.

When I got there, the vice president, Dominica, gave me an application to fill out. I looked around and saw lots of cubicles with everyone busy working. It looked like a place that I would choose to work at as there is no patient contact. It just seemed like a good atmosphere as well. I got a good feeling.

Then Bridgette was ready to interview me. I walked into the interview unsure of myself. I wasn't sure I could be an auditor because I had never worked as a coder before. Bridgette was nice and she explained the types of things they do, such as reduce bills and audit claims. She was using a lot of terminology I didn't know. I told her that I don't have any experience in coding yet. I felt like I couldn't do it, but I remained positive that maybe I could learn it all. She ended the interview with, "OK I have other applicants, but I'll give you a call." Bridgette was very nice and direct.

I left with a feeling that I didn't get the job because she had other people to interview. I called my mom and said its way too hard- I'm not smart enough, and I don't have the experience. My mom had said definitely don't take it then. I said I don't think she will call back, but if she calls to tell me if I have the job or not, I will say I'm not looking for a job at this moment.

After speaking with my mom, I started watching TV. My cell phone rang and I didn't recognize the number – I thought it was the hair salon I go to. I answered and it was Bridgette, and she said, "I want to hire you." I was so surprised that she called so soon that I just said "OK." I still wasn't sure if I could do it or not. I told her again I have no experience, and she said, "I will teach you everything you need to know." I said how long does it take to train and she said, "Months." Little did I know then, I would still be working at Medical Analysis today, confident about what I had learned.

It takes a special person like Bridgette to see that even through my shyness and some lack of confidence in myself, I could still learn, slowly build up my confidence, and be an effective team member at her company.

I called my mom and said Bridgette called me and I took the job. My mom said "Oh no, you took the job, but you don't think you can do it?" I said "Well, I should go and see if the job is for me."

I was scheduled to start two weeks later. Those two weeks I would go back and forth in my mind wondering if I could do the job or not. My sister's friend Erica, who helped me with the website, suggested making a pros and cons list on her tablet. The pros were: that it is an auditing job - its $12 an hour- the most I've ever made, they will train me, and it could be a career. The cons were: that it wouldn't be for me, would be too much to learn, and I would have to stop volunteering in medical records at Cedar Bridge, which I had hoped to work for one day.

I asked Sally and Diana, my medical terminology teacher, after my billing class. Diana said, "Well it is a job," and she thought I should go for it. Sally was also encouraging. She said I can do it and to "breathe" and "relax." I was getting so worked up about it because I really wanted to work there but my low confidence in myself was holding me back.

My mom and I continued meeting Jill at the hospital. I would come from work and when my mom was done working we would go eat dinner. Jill also said that I should try the job and give it some time. I remember when we were talking about the job, before the interview, there was a double rainbow outside the hospital cafeteria.

When I went to see Gail, we discussed the job. Gail's opinion was to go for it. She said "If you don't like it, then you don't like it, but you could just give it a try."

The first day I started training I was scheduled to arrive when work-time was over, and the trainer, Donna, could start training me. I brought a lot of my own notes with me as I had tried to research all the terms Bridgette had said. I remember when I got there Bridgette said, "Welcome Aboard". It made me feel welcome. To this day, I am still part of the team, and I feel grateful how welcoming everyone was and still is.

I remember I was so nervous that first day while being trained. It was just Donna and I in the office. She got me some bottled water. Donna walked me through auditing an inpatient claim that day. I took tons of notes. I paid attention to every detail she said and wrote everything down. Donna would later nickname me, "The Writer-Downer."

The next day to train was on a Saturday. I continued learning inpatient claims. There was a lot to learn. But because I learned it in steps, I was not overwhelmed. I was motivated and wanted to get it completely perfect the way Donna had taught me.

Over the weekend, I studied everything I learned and typed out my written notes from training with Donna. I made another binder. I was very excited and hoped things would continue to go as well as they had.

That Monday was my first full day. I met all the other workers and started to learn things about them such as: how long they worked there, their families, and their hobbies. Bridgette says hello to everyone in the morning - which I think is very nice of her to take the time to do that. I remember my first full day, I told her I was nervous and I hope I do well and she said, "Well you can't kill anyone." It was funny and we both laughed and that made me feel better. If I messed up, it wouldn't be as serious as say, speech therapy, where if you give the wrong food to a patient, they could choke and die from it.

I continued doing just inpatient accounts. Some of the long ones that go "line by line" took a couple hours to type. I enjoyed working. A girl, Anna, who said in back of me, had her radio on and we all enjoyed listening to songs as we worked. I met Christine, who sat across from me, Jesse who uploaded work, Kent and John who sat in front of me, Kim who sat behind me, Sandy, the supervisor Nicole, and the vice president, Dominica. It was like a small family. Everyone was friendly to each other.

No one took a lunch. The hours were 8AM to 4PM and everyone ate lunch at their desk. I brought in coffee for the morning, a lunch, and a snack. A lot of days, the girls would order lunch from restaurants and get it delivered to our office. I did that one time with them.

I was getting more confident with the job and was happier in general. I continued going to yogalates. I was no longer volunteering at Starbrooke Hospital but I was going to Cedar Bridge on Saturdays. I was still volunteering at the nursing home, but only on Fridays.

I told everyone at the nursing home about my auditing job at Medical Analysis, and they were nothing but genuinely happy and supportive. They knew that I had gone to school for medical coding and passed the CPC exam, so they knew inevitably I would be working at a coding job. They were just happy that I came on Fridays to catch up and help out. They could always use another staff member to help out, especially at night. And because I had worked there, I knew the routine.

I continued to go to coding meetings for our local chapter. At the meetings, you get CEUS, which are credits for continuing education. There are some refreshments and a speaker. You can network with other people. I enjoyed going to the meetings and staying connected. My teacher, Sally, was still the president of our chapter.

I think I went to the beach once or twice that summer. It was relaxing to go to the beach and I realized I missed it. It is so close that I should go there more often, just to hear the sound of the ocean and breathe in the salt air. I would be thinking that I should go at night and just walk the beach as the sun is setting. Some summers, I end up going a lot to the beach and others not so much. It is particularly because of the crowds and the cost that I have not gone to the beach that often in the summer.

I became very involved in my work. I began learning ASCs (ambulatory surgical centers) and outpatient accounts. Donna taught me all of that, and Dominica was very helpful also. I had tons of questions. Sally had told me to ask a lot of questions. I wanted everything to be perfect.

After you are done with your audit, you give it to Nicole and Dominica, who check it, and if there is a problem like a typo or a wrong amount, they correct it and put it in your file. At the end of the day, you can go to your file and look at your mistakes. In the beginning I made a lot of mistakes. I got nervous and, even though I saw that many people make mistakes, I thought that I might get fired.

I remember going to Gail during the summer. She would say, "You still don't think you are getting fired do you?" And I would say, "Yeah." Gail would assure me I am very good at what I do and I am still learning it all. She was sure that I wouldn't be fired.

At the billing class, I brought my work binder notes to show Diana, who was teaching in the next classroom, and she showed her entire class the book I had made with such things as revenue codes and modifiers. They all thought it was very nice. Also, I told Erica about the binder and she thought that was great. My family was proud of me as well.

I still kept up with my local coding chapter meetings. I even won a medical dictionary at one meeting. I thought that was good luck so I brought it to work the next day. I still have it at my desk today.

I went to see Dr. Kadam in the summer. Everything was good. I wasn't feeling unusually happy or sad either. One could describe my feelings as normal mood. We kept the medicines the same.

I did not tell Bridgette or anyone at work about my difficulty with bipolar disorder because I didn't want them to think that being bipolar would affect my work in a negative way. I wanted to show them how well I could work, and that I was dependable and responsible. I would only tell them about it months later because I would need to.

Bridgette had said she was looking for someone to hire. Bridgette and Donna joked that they wanted another me, which made me feel just so good and needed. That was one of the greatest things anyone has ever told me. I mentioned to Bridgette about my friend Karen, a nurse, who was in my coding classes. Bridgette said she was very interested.

I texted Karen about the job and she said she was interested. I told her, over the phone, what it was like and what we do. She later said she was nervous on the interview (just like I was) because she didn't understand the terminology much like I didn't when Bridgette was explaining the work to me. Karen started work in July and I still work with her today.

The rest of the summer, I just continued working and was happy for the most part. I was a little unhappy with my weight, but I wasn't very overweight, in the 140s about. My sister and her boyfriend, Randy, set me up with his friend, Mark, to go out on a date. The first date was nice. We went out to eat and to see a movie. The second date we went over to his friend's house. And the third date we just watched a movie. However, I just wasn't really up to dating. Mark and I broke it off because we were looking for different things. It wasn't a particular a negative thing – just something I wasn't ready for.

August is our birthday month – my mom, my aunt, my sister, my uncle, and me. We had everyone over for our birthdays. My sister got me a flower and a really nice card. I have it saved. It says how important I am to her as a sister. My neighbor friend Cathy came over. We had pizza and drinks. Everyone was interested in my job and very proud and happy for me.

The fall came quickly. Now that I was getting a steady paycheck, I could afford some new clothes. I got things like jeans, boots, and work shirts. I enjoyed shopping – I didn't go overboard, but it was nice to have some spending money.

September was a great month. I was making pumpkin coffee every day to bring to work. The girls at work were so nice to me. I would always ask Christine for help. I would ask her lots of questions about the audits, and she would always take the time to explain it to me, or make me a copy of an important paper I needed. The other girls helped as well. Donna and Dominica reviewed claims with me, showing me any errors and also stressing that I am learning quickly and doing extremely well for just starting.

Karen began full-time in August. She sat a few computers behind me. She was similar to me – not a lot of confidence coming in, and she got upset when she would make a mistake, much like I would.

There were two men working there, Kent and John – both very nice. Kent would help with all computer problems such as: if you lost internet or your printer wouldn't work. John was friendly and he seemed like he was a good worker and was very into the work.

October was nice like September. I felt stable and in a normal mood. We saw Dr. Kadam again during the fall and all the meds remained the same. I brought in pumpkin coffee for work and made my coworkers fall chocolates filled with peanut butter and caramel. They enjoyed them.

Gail and I started talking (besides my new job) about dating. I would tell her that I want to date but it is just way too stressful for me. I said it is very hard meeting a guy's family and friends, because even if it's not true, I always think they are judging me. I am always thinking one of my boyfriend's parents or other family member would wish he was with a more normal and talkative girl. I would tell Gail these things. Gail would say you never know - I might meet someone with a very accepting family and won't feel that way.

I continued with the yogalates when I could make it. It's hard sometimes because it is 40 minutes away but I tried to make some classes.

In October, our office moved to a new location, because the company is growing. We moved to a place a couple minutes from where I started working. It is beautiful. It has a huge room with all cubicles and four different offices – one for Bridgette, Dominica, Nicole, and Donna. It has a large break room and a huge parking lot. We have entrance codes to get into the doors.

We moved in late October. I got my desk all set up. I bought some new things for my desk like a calendar and post-it-notes. I really loved the new office space. Everyone did.

I started gaining weight again because I was still on Zyprexa. I would crave carbs. I ended up calling Dr.Kadam in late November and telling him the Zyprexa is not letting me lose weight and because I was on the lowest dose- 2.5mg, I was going to go off of it. He later told me at the following appointment that he had gotten the message that I decided to go off the remainder of the Zyprexa because of the weight gain.

The holidays were a busy time. I was baking lots of cookies to bring into work. I was busy getting gifts for my family and friends. I went to the mall a lot. My mom and I went out to dinners and shopping with Jill and her mom.

The end of the year holiday dinner for the coding chapter was in December. They had two different speakers for it, plenty of food, and raffles. I won a t-shirt with the raffle. We earned CEUs for attending. Dominica, Karen, Nicole and I went.

Come January and February, everything was basically the same. Work was great. I had learned almost everything there is to learn for basic auditing. Karen would ask me questions and I would know most of the answers. We ended up working 8AM to 4:30PM and taking a half hour lunch. Karen and I took lunch together and talked a lot.

I kept in touch with Jill, who I had met at the hospital volunteering. We had our weekly Thursday night dinners and went to the movies a lot. It was nice to have a friend to hang out with.

I also visited Path Nursing Home and saw the residents and people I had worked with. Everyone was very happy to see me.

I decided I wanted to tell Karen about having bipolar disorder because she told me lots of personal details about her life and her family. I told her one time at lunch. She was surprised to hear it. She said she wouldn't tell anyone about it, and she never did.

Before Valentine's Day, I went over to my coworker Donna's house, and taught her and her kids how to make Valentine's Day chocolates. I brought all my supplies and she bought some ingredients too. At the end of the night, we were just talking and she was telling me personal things, so I felt it was right to tell her that I have bipolar disorder. She was not judgmental at all.

In late February, I began thinking about not wanting to ever get sick again just because work was so great, and my life was going good. I decided that if I always stay on Zyprexa, I will never get manic. Also, I was very paranoid that people were looking at me and thinking negative things about me. I couldn't really go out to stores or restaurants without having that feeling.

Apparently, I started tapping my foot a lot. My mom would notice in the car. The whole car would shake. She thought I was doing that because I was impatient, but I really didn't know I was doing that. Karen also noticed. Whenever she would come over to my desk, my foot would be tapping uncontrollably.

I became more and more paranoid that people were looking at me. It was an awful feeling and it wouldn't go away. I had the feeling that people were looking at me because I wasn't acting or looking normal.

I spent a lot of time with my sister's friend, Erica. We would go for coffee and hang out. It was fun and it was nice to have someone to do something with. It lifted my spirits. She is a make-up consultant and I would help her with her business by organizing and helping her with setting up for her shows.

I also decided to stop taking pictures of myself. I thought if I don't look right then I don't look right – taking a picture is not going to change that because I will still look the same. I have not taken a picture of myself to verify that I look ok since, and from now on, I will only be in a picture if other people are in it with me.

### Chapter 29: A Hypomanic Episode

The first week of March, my mind started to race. I would hear everything – songs, things people previously said, and things I thought were being said. It was hard to focus and all these racing thoughts were going on at once. If my mom said "Have a good day at work," my thoughts would repeat "Have a good day at work" plus my own thoughts or paranoid thoughts along with some music playing – all at the same time. I knew something was wrong and that I needed Zyprexa right away.

I remember the wait to see Gail felt like so long because I was sick. I couldn't wait to go and tell her that I didn't feel right and get her advice on what to do. The appointment finally came. It was only two weeks from the last appointment but it felt so long. I was so tired that I hadn't even brought my journal – the first time in six years I forgot it. I was practically sleeping the entire appointment I was so tired.

I was so tired because that week I had trouble falling asleep. I would try to fall asleep and just couldn't. I would be up much later than I normally would. I would be taking lots of Trazodone and then feeling like a zombie when I woke up. It was frustrating. On top of the racing thoughts, I was also worrying about not sleeping. Gail knew I would be going to Dr. Kadam soon and suggested talking to him about how I was feeling.

Finally, the appointment with Dr. Kadam came. I explained to him how I am paranoid and I feel people are looking at me and that I haven't been feeling so well. He prescribed the Zyprexa like I had asked. I was very eager to start taking it to get the racing thoughts and paranoia down. I had researched into what causes paranoia – it is too much dopamine in the brain. My brain had way too much dopamine and Zyprexa decreases dopamine. That is why Zyprexa is so valuable to me even with its weight gain side effect. It's just worth it to be healthy and a little overweight than to be thin and have racing thoughts and paranoia.

I didn't get better. I got sicker. I was already in a hypomanic episode (not as severe as a manic episode). I caught it early and that's why it didn't get too out of control. One day at work, at the end of the day, I started crying hysterically to myself. I cried when I was driving home and I was not driving carefully at all. It was then I knew it would not be safe for me to drive again until I felt better.

We called my dad and he had no problem driving me in. He came in the morning and would drop my mom and I off at work and pick us up. He was cheerful and he was just happy I was getting better and doing ok.

I would get coffee in the morning some days. One day, I went inside and I just started crying at the counter where you order your coffee. I just felt so sad- unbelievably sad and it just came out. I got my coffee and quickly left.

I also cried at work and Donna saw me. She said, "We are all here for you and don't worry about anything."

I had an evaluation of my job performance at work. There was a form where we filled out our strengths, weaknesses and what we want to work on. I filled it out and met with Bridgette. She said she is very happy to have me working there. She knows I ask lots of questions because of my low confidence, and she said if you have a questions try writing them down and doing what you think, as she believes I'm capable of making decisions and if it's wrong they will just correct it.

She also gave me a $1.50 raise. I was so happy. I told my mom and Gail right away. It was such a big accomplishment.

I went to a nutritionist where my mom works in order to figure out what to eat while on Zyprexa. She made a menu for me with things such as fish, smoothies, salads, and all other healthy foods. It was helpful although I did not follow it completely, as I gave in to my Zyprexa cravings.

Unfortunately, only a few days later I was too hypomanic to work. I called and said I couldn't go in. We upped the Zyprexa from 10mg to 20mg. I told Gail that I'm not going to work anymore. Gail called right away and said, "Don't just quit, just see if you can do like three days a week, or something like that, or just call out a day or two and go from there."

I also told Karen I didn't think I could ever work anymore. I wanted to just stay home and go on disability so this would never happen again.

That Monday when I stayed home from work, I heard a knock on the door. I thought it was the mailman so I didn't answer it. Then I heard someone calling my name, and it was Dominica and Karen from work. I was so surprised to see them. They said they want me to keep working and don't give up. Dominica said she will drive to my house every morning and pick me up so I could continue working. She said they will work with me and it will be ok. Seeing them was such a big encouragement.

I decided to go shopping that night to get jeans and pants for work, as I had already gained weight from the Zyprexa. I got three jeans and black pants. I decided that the bigger sized things I buy I won't get rid of when I lose weight, but I will save in a "Zyprexa box."

That Wednesday, I went back to work and talked to Bridgette. I told her everything about being bipolar. She said she thought something was wrong, but didn't know what. She disclosed a lot to me about her personal life and she was so understanding and compassionate. She said she wouldn't want to lose me, and I can do three days a week as long as I need to. I couldn't have asked for a more understanding boss. Everyone at work was so supportive. If I didn't have that support, I would be sitting home on disability and never leaving my house.

So I went in three days a week. My dad still drove me and picked me up. I was able to do claims and when I got a little restless I could just get up and go to the bathroom or get a drink. My work was good and I got a lot of claims done.

At one point, my mom and I were in our driveway about to pull out and my sister was near a school bus that was stopped. She ended up frantically beeping to get to our driveway, because she thought that my mom and I were going to the hospital, which we weren't. My sister hates to see me sick or in the hospital.

The next week I tried four days a week and then five days again.

At an earlier meeting of our coding chapter, I had been appointed newsletter coordinator for our coding chapter. While sick, I worked on the newsletter and Erica, because of how great she is with computers, put it together for me. It was sent out and everyone thought it came out really nice.

I continued trying to work the five days, but I wasn't fully recovered yet. I had another breakdown at work and had to leave. I was also on very strong medications. I wanted to go on disability.

My mom went with me to talk to my supervisor at work. Once again, it was encouraged for me to stay working. Dominica and Nicole suggested coming in two days a week just to hold my spot. I talked to Bridgette a few days later and she assured me it would be fine for me to work part-time, two days a week. I also thought that was a great idea.

I also made it to our coding chapter's spring conference. Erica went with me, as she was a vendor selling makeup. Whenever I got restless, she would go and take a little walk with me, or I would go on a bathroom break. Overall, I did really well and was happy I made it there.

### Chapter 30: Things Looking Up Again

After working two days a week for a couple weeks, I began working three days– Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. Everyone at work continued to be very supportive. I even got "honorary employee of the month" for the month of May. I recently reached the year mark for working at Medical Analysis – June 2013. I still love it as much as the day I started.

I developed a great routine for on and off work days. Days I am working I get coffee, work 8:00AM to 4:30PM, and cook something healthy for dinner. On days I am off I get coffee, do a few things like laundry, cleaning, and listening to music, and I am sure to get a lot of rest. I spend time with Jill on our weekly Thursday dinners and see movies on the weekends with friends and family.

I am still the newsletter coordinator for our coding chapter. I make a newsletter each month about meetings and events. I go to the monthly coding meetings with Karen and listen to speakers, have refreshments, and talk with others in the chapter.

I still visit Path Nursing Home. I visit all my former coworkers and residents. I will always keep in touch with them and continue to visit.

I continue going to Gail every two weeks. We work through any problems I may have and continue making great progress. I can tell her anything. I am lucky to have her as a therapist throughout all these years,

I saw Dr. Kadam in June and I am currently on a strong amount of Zyprexa as I am still in recovery. My weight has increased but I am slowly losing weight through healthy eating and walking.

Also, I am in my former roommate and friend Amy's wedding. In March, during the hypomanic manic episode, I had decided I should not be in it because of how sick I was. Amy encouraged me to still be in the wedding. We just had Amy's bridal shower and got the bridesmaid dresses. They are beautiful and I cannot wait until the wedding next month.

All and all, things are looking up. I hope they continue this way.

### Final Thoughts

Throughout my journey with bipolar disorder, I have felt many emotions. I have been so manic that I became psychotic. I have been up so high and down so low. I have been on medications with heavy side effects. I have been confused and upset in hospitals. I've been detached from reality and depressed at the reality of my life.

I have also felt hopeful and proud of myself. I have felt grateful to have people in my life who have been so incredibly supportive. I have felt lucky to have such great therapists and doctors. I have felt glad for all the people who have given me one more try. I will never give up.

I think bipolar disorder has made me a stronger person. It takes a lot to come out of the episodes. It isn't easy going up and down all the time. A lot of the medications have strong side effects. A lot of the hospital stays are exhausting and confusing. Taking all of that into account, I am always ok and I go on to the next chapter of my life.

I hope that by sharing in my journey with me, you have learned what a roller-coaster life with bipolar disorder can be. Whether you are yourself bipolar, you have a loved one with bipolar disorder, or simply just reading the book, I hope I have taken you to the places where I have been and brought you back along with me.

I think throughout my journey with bipolar disorder, I have felt like I have suffocated many times, but I always look forward and hope that after almost drowning in each episode, I will inevitably always "come up for air."

### Website Link

Here is the link to the website I created in 2012:

<https://sites.google.com/site/mypathtowellness2012/>
