I want to apologize for not posting in a while. I guess when you leave someone with ADD on their own to keep-up with something, it can happen sometimes :) In all seriousness, I've been busy with some things in my life that I'm not at liberty to discuss in a public forum such as this but I did want to get something on here before Sunday. So here's a couple responses I have in response to some discussion questions in regards to medication on the Bring Change 2 Mind's Facebook page.
Again please take note of the disclosures on my "About Me" section, thank yo and enjoy.
The first one is in response to someone having emotional issues with taking medications for their mental disorder. Here was my response.
Overall I've come to see my psychiatric medications the same way I see the medication I took to recover from an injury earlier this year or the way a diabetic views their insulin shots.
Its something I need to allow me to have a full life and good quality of life. Without it, I'm a grouchy antisocial hermit who hides under the bed for most of his life. The medications don't change me, they simply allow me to be a better me. But they do not in any way change who "Mike" really is. They just allow "Mike" to more easily function.
But I do understand. As I share my story with others, seems like everyone including myself have made the mistake of quitting the medication at one point or another.
For me, I got to a point where I was having a very rough patch and family and close friends kept repeatedly asking me "Are you still taking your medication" and few things piss me off more !! 1. I wanted to scream "So what if I am ? Why can't I just have a bad bleeping day !!!". 2. I felt that no one was ever taking me seriously simply because I was on anxiety medication. 3. Since I really disagreed with them on the particular topic of discussion and they were asking me if I was still on my meds so much I started questioning that statement, " The medications don't change me, they simply allow me to be a better me. But they do not in any way change who "Mike" really is. They just allow "Mike" to more easily function." and instead were reprogramming me into some kind of trained drone they could control.
I've been using my medication for about again for over a year now. But I had to walk right to the very edge of the cliff of self destruction, look over the edge and realize I was about to fall off; it before I started using them again.
The next response was to someone who was expressing frustration over the fact that they were taking medicine and nothing was getting better at all.
T my gut reaction to that question is that you might now be getting the right help. I would urge you to talk to your doctor about it or get a second opinion. Again that too is a path I have traveled down.
Since 2002 I was being treated for generalized anxiety but after things got much worse back this past spring I had to admit that it was not working. In hindsight it never 100% effective. The shrink I was seeing at the time took all of 10 minutes to conclude that I was bi-polar and put me on some really powerful drugs that turned me into a brain dead zombie. Fortunately my mother was with me at that appointment and this doctor set her bull sh&% detector off very loudly.
So she got hooked-up with a wonderful organization called NAMI and became educated on what one should expect from a mental health care provider. In a nutshell you should expect and demand the same level and quality of medical care as you would of say a doctor who specializes in cancer treatment. Chief among those credentials being a very through analysis before the doctor officially diagnoses you. This doctor had not done his due diligence in that regard according to my mother's opinion.
So I took her advice and got a second opinion. The next psychiatrist I saw had me fill out a 5 page single spaced questionnaire which he went over with me in an interview that lasted an hour and a half. It was only then that he told me "This bi-polar diagnosis is a load of crap !! You're ADD not bi-polar !! Give me six weeks and I''ll get you feeling dramatically better and in 6 months you'll be hitting on all 6 cylinders". At first I was highly suspicious but was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt given all the work he put into diagnosing me.
In the end that doctor delivered in full on his promise and I'm in a much better place now, that I was even seven years ago !
Which is a long way of saying, if you still are wanting to jump off the cliff of self destruction, I doubt you are getting treated correctly and I would urge you to go talk to your mental health care provider. Also I would not hesitate to get a second, third or sixth opinion if you don't feel the doctor is doing you justice. Its a common theme among those who've shared their stories with me.
Personally I would recommend bring a trusted friend or family member to these consultations because when you are in that emotional state, its hard to objectively see what's going on. I know I would not have noticed there was a problem had my mother not come with me to an appointment.
I know of a handful of people who had to go to five different doctors before they found one who could help them. Again expect the same standard of care that you would of a cancer doctor.
And do not give up !! Life doe not have to be that way for you, most mental illnesses are highly treatable !!!
Until next time, this is The RedHeaded Rambler signing off.
27 February 2010
19 February 2010
My Story for Bring Change 2 Mind
My Story for BringChange2Mind
Please be sure to remember the disclaimer under the “About Me” section of my blog site applies as always.
February has been proclaimed national “Share your Story Month” by Bring Change 2 Mind. A wonderful organization that has brought those who suffer with mental illnesses and their loved ones “out of the closet” if you will to share their stories. Its a very good thing that has helped people come out of their bubbles and realize that they are not alone. It helps us to heal, it helps us to learn from each other, it brings national attention to mental illnesses to defeat its stigma and all the good that will come from that. So in the spirit of the occasion I will now share mine as best I can.
So metaphorically speaking, I stand before you and the World to say, “I am Mike and I have ADHD, GAD, and Depression and I while I am not proud of this fact, I am NO LONGER ashamed of this fact anymore. This is my story which I give in hopes that it will in some way help others”.
As far back as I my conscious memory goes, I have always been a high strung person who needlessly worried and got worked up over nothing. Always scared of what was coming up around the bend, I always expected and prepared for the worst as though it were inevitable. Hell, I remember fifth grade, one of the years I was a straight A student, having anxiety attacks the night before the last day of school, because I was terrified that I would be held back !!
It has been a relief to me to learn that I am not unique among those who are effected by ADHD in that social skills do not come easily for me. This difficulty caused my grade school-high school years hard. I was forever being picked on some incidents are quite dramatic and clearly etched in my mind for the emotional turmoil it caused. While I was never a bad kid who was forever acting-up, seems like two or three times a year one or many kids would pick on me till I could not take it anymore resulting in the inevitable scuffle. But even in adult life, my struggles with social skills has caused me some difficulty.
But as far as my condition is concerned, things did not really starting serious until college. My anxiety knew no bounds and started effecting my ability to function. My pessimistic outlook and worry-wart ways drove my friends to tears of annoyance and even as early as sophomore year people were telling me (usually not so nicely) that I needed medication. But I never seriously listened because it was usually said in anger and not out of genuine concern. So I let it go in one ear and out the other. That was until.....
Until my Army National Guard unit was called to active duty three weeks after the 9-11 tragedy. We were stationed stateside as part of Operation Noble Eagle I homeland defense operations for a year. Nothing too crazy, in fact more days were agonizingly boring than not. BUT that whole year was full of uncertainty and frustration. Since the Army was writing or rewriting the book on homeland security operations, things were forever changing. Also the military was in the preliminary planning stages not only of domestic security, but also the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq. So we kept being told our tour was going to be extended, shortened, that we were going to be prepping for an overseas mission, and on and on an on. I was literally told by the same officer that we were going home in five days, then that its changed and we are going Iraq, and that we'd be on our current mission for at least two and a half years, back to “we still don't know”, all in the same day. When you start messing with people's emotions with that even a mentally strong soldier will inevitably start to get rattled. And guys were starting to have mental break downs so often, you really never knew who was going to snap next. But without question I was among those who struggled the worst. So much so that my platoon sergeant ordered me to get some counseling out of genuine concern for my well being.
The stress of the uncertainty and constant back and forth of the status of our deployment had caused me to crack. I had a very dramatic stress breakdown one night where I spent three hours screaming obscenities while smashing my head into an actual brick wall outside the barracks and leaping into the air to more forcefully drive my face into the ground. God bless my squad leader, he was eventually able to get through to me, calm me down, and help me regain my composure. But I was never the same and over time became unable to sleep and developed a nervous tick. So the platoon sergeant ordered me to get counseling. So I reluctantly visited the post physiologist. However even in that degenerated state, I could see a mile a way that the Army's mental health program was designed solely to weed-out the soldiers it felt could no longer be trusted with a rifle. Anyone who went there for treatment had to be escorted and the waiting room was guarded by a big menacingly looking NCO. No way I was going to honestly answer any questions the over-worked and obviously fatigued Army physiologist asked me.
After a couple hours I finally see the man and he asks my why I am here. I simply tell him that the stress of things had made it impossible for me to sleep and the lack of sleep is making me very grouchy. That's about all I told him other than my name, rank, unit, and ssn. Just like we'd been told to do if we ever became POW's in hindsight !! So he gets tired of this and simply tells me to cut down on the drinking, schedules me for an anger management seminar, and suggests taking Benadryl to help sleep better, then sends me on my way. But on that day I made a promise to myself that I would seriously get help when I came home to stay. Also as luck would have it, two days later we FINALLY got orders to demobilize that did not change and went home three weeks after that. By that time, I don't think anyone really believed we were demobilizing until the first sergeant dismissed us after the final formation.
Now please do not misunderstand me. I don't blame the Army for my problems. I was a soldier, there to do a job with an organization I VOLUNTARILY joined. As the third generation of my family to serve in the Army, I knew full well that Army life would not be all sunshine and rainbows. I knew that one day the green mother would call on me to make sacrifices and endure hardships in the name of protecting this great country. I also know that what little I sacrificed, pales in comparison to the sacrifices the brave young men and women of America's Armed Forces are enduring today as they fight and die in overseas conflicts and I hold them in great respect and reverence.
Anyhow getting back on topic I did get help, several months after we returned to civilian life. It took me a while but I finally got enough courage to seek the advice of a general physician. He started me on anti-depressants. This was late 2002 and the available medications were primitive compared to what's on the market today. I must have tried a half dozen different ones over the course of the next year, all with quite brutal side effects. Everything from your basic diarrhea to the sensation of being electrically shocked at the base of my head. So while I was happy with the overall benefits I got from them, I could not stand the painful side effects, and quit taking them after two years. I figured I'd just “take it like a man”, suck it up, and get on with my life. After all, I had just decided to quit working full time in order to finish my last year of college. I didn't have time to sit and mope or feel sorry for myself, I had to kick the engine into high gear and get things done.
Upon graduating college I moved home for a year and a half. It was the first time in six years I'd returned home for longer than 2 weeks in nearly 6 years. Mom and Dad took notice of my anxiety and increased irritability and about 8 months into my stay started asking to consider going back on medication. But I had been down that road once before and the thought of enduring those harsh side effects was unbearable. So I resisted until the company I was working for laid me off. The worry and humiliation of this became so overwhelming that I started having anxiety attacks again. I'd shiver uncontrollably like I was naked in a snow storm despite laying beneath a half dozen blankets. So I went to the doctor and started antidepressants again. This time there was a new medication that was far more effective with no noticeable side effects. It worked and for a few more years I thought the problem was fixed.
That was until three years ago when my general physician told me he couldn't increase the dose anymore and that he feared my condition was more serious than he was qualified to deal with, and referred me to a psychiatrist. By this time I had moved back to Columbus, Oh and was living on my own.
The psychiatrist reviewed my charts and simply increased the dosage. But it didn't help me that much. But I dealt with it because I didn't know what else to do. But early this past spring a combination of increased stress at work and dramatically increased stress in my family life started pushing me into anxiety attacks again. I was always intensely grouchy and I'd lash-out at even the most trivial things. But it was the mood swings that started to get my attention. Still I resisted because in hindsight I realized I had a bunker mentality. My family and I were definitely not seeing eye to eye with each other last spring and arguing constantly. I was also bickering with my friends an awful lot and all but one couple had started withdrawing from me. Every time a friend or family member and I had tense conversation, they'd repeatedly ask if I was still taking my medication. Since I felt like everyone was dismissing me because I was on antidepressants, I quit taking them, and things went from bad to worse almost overnight.
Eventually my parents and I fought each other to a standstill and we established a tense peace in our fighting. Dad drove down to see me under a flag of truce to talk about things. Through this we were able to clear the air and the hostilities that had been developed due to misunderstandings. I realized that Mom and Dad were asking about my medicines because they were legitimately concerned for my welfare; so I relented and started taking the pills again.
I also went back to my shrink to discuss the mood swings that had started to really frighten me. I could go from white hot anger to down in the dumps depression inside of five minutes or pure jubilation to being overwhelmed with anxiety in a quarter of an hour. People around me were always walking on eggs because they never knew which Mike they were going to get from one minute to the next. You just never knew if I was going to want to hug you or fight you. Think we're on the road to the land of sunshine and rainbows ? Guess again. The doctor took all of ten minutes to diagnose me as bi-polar, write out a script for some additional anxiety medications and bipolar pills and a month later doubled the dosage.
The problem that I did not know was that I wasn't actually bi-polar. These pills had the effect of tranquilizing me. This was only compounded by the fact that I switched from eight hour shifts to twelve hour shifts at work. I could barely make it through the day and suddenly, for the first time in my life, I was getting into trouble with my employer for missing too much work. I was days away from giving-up and starting the paperwork for disability. This thought filled me with deep depression and despair, despite the large dosages of pills. Whether it was the feeling that doing this would be letting my family down or a small sliver of self pride I don't know but I decided I could not give-in without getting a second or even third opinion. This is where I believe the hand of God, who was always there, started getting quite noticeably involved. God sent two angles into my family's and I's life who have changed out lives for the better. One in the form an organization and the second in the form of a doctor into my
The organization that he sent was NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illnesses). During the course of all these events I had heard one of their radio ads while driving home from work one night. So I called them up and the compassionate angel who answered the phone, spent two hours talking to me. She helped answer all these questions I had been scared to ask since I first started looking for help. Everything from medical laws (I'd always been terrified that if I said the wrong thing they'd take me away to an 1800's style insane asylum), what kinds of treatment options to consider, support groups, and above all what to expect from a good psychiatrist and assure me that it was normal for people with mental illnesses to get a second opinion and that I wouldn't be offending my old doctor by doing so. Amazingly enough my mother made a surprise visit to check on me the next day because they were still extremely worried. I told her about this great organization I'd just learned of and to she gave me a funny look. Apparently she and Dad had heard a similar radio ad and were planning on attending a support group meeting run by NAMI later that week ! NAMI's support group has been an immense help to my parents in terms of understanding the complex nature of mental illnesses as well as providing an emotional support group for them where they can share their experiences and problems with others who understand what they are going through.
With new found courage I started contacting mental health treatment facilities. If you live in Central Ohio and you ever feel you are alone in your struggles with mental illness try to change psychiatrists and see how quickly you can get an appointment. I must have called close to a dozen offices and none save one could get me in any sooner than four months out. That one was able to get me an appointment in three weeks. That alone made me suspicious but I thought I'd go see what he had to say. Turns out this man aka Dr. Martin was probably the one person with the experience and knowledge in Central Ohio who could help me. After having me fill out a grueling five page single spaced questionnaire and a 90 minute interview he looked me straight in the eye and said “Mike I can get you feeling better within six weeks and fully normal in six months”. That got my attention. He then went on to explain that I was not bipolar, I was ADHD with depression. WHAT ? I said.
He went on to explain how ADHD exists in adults but few psychiatrists have been trained on how dopamine levels can have an effect on the brain though they know almost too much about how serotonin levels work. Drew a picture of the brain and started explaining the physiology of the condition. A combination of rigorous exercise, antidepressants, and stimulants and six weeks later, at our follow-up appointment, I happily admitted he was right !! It hasn't been easy and I suffer set backs and bad days from time to time. But six months as of this February my family and I both agree that Dr. Martin made good on his second statement.
I'm still unsure about a lot of things and feel that I still have some work to do in terms of my recovery. However, I do know that thanks to the help this man has provided I am in a much better place mentally, emotionally, and spiritually than I've been in at least eight years. My employer has noticed the change, several managers have complimented me on my improved attitude and rewarded this by giving me increased leadership opportunities and chances to help with employee performance development, something that I've long since expressed a strong interest in. I'm managing my finances much better, I'm staying on top of my cleaning chores, and all those other aspects of my life that I've always struggled with. The understanding of my condition and its tendencies have helped me get over my long held belief that I am in some way inferior to others. I am not lazy, dumb, or stupid, I'm just different. Mental illness is not an excuse and I'll never belittle others who are afflicted with a mental illnesses by blaming my condition for my actions. But it does help me understand who I am and why I am that way. Its unlocked a lot of long unsolved mysteries about my past and about my habits.
I will always be guarded in terms of how I view the future. Like so many of my fellow wounded birds who've shared their stories here, life has sucker punched me more than a few times. But for once in my life, I feel that if I can keep my guard up and my focus square on my recovery, that opportunities for better things in my life can come along and that it won't all be clouds and rainstorms all the time. I am so thankful to God for the people he's put into my life these past several months and how he's been able to help me through such angles as Dr. Martin and the good people of NAMI.
One last thing I want to mention. As you can infer from this story, I'm very grateful to my parents for helping me through all this. I certainly am extremely grateful to them for their love and support. While I still have a ways to go, I would never have made it this far without them. I'd also be remiss if failed to mention a husband-wife couple who've been friends of mine for going on eight years now. Even at my worst, they never stopped being my friends, never stopped praying for me, never stopped reaching out to me. The wife has had her own serious struggles with mental illnesses and one of their sons deals with ADD as well. They've been very open about sharing their experiences with me as well as providing insight and information they've learned from life's school of hard knocks. I owe them a great deal for this.
Please be sure to remember the disclaimer under the “About Me” section of my blog site applies as always.
February has been proclaimed national “Share your Story Month” by Bring Change 2 Mind. A wonderful organization that has brought those who suffer with mental illnesses and their loved ones “out of the closet” if you will to share their stories. Its a very good thing that has helped people come out of their bubbles and realize that they are not alone. It helps us to heal, it helps us to learn from each other, it brings national attention to mental illnesses to defeat its stigma and all the good that will come from that. So in the spirit of the occasion I will now share mine as best I can.
So metaphorically speaking, I stand before you and the World to say, “I am Mike and I have ADHD, GAD, and Depression and I while I am not proud of this fact, I am NO LONGER ashamed of this fact anymore. This is my story which I give in hopes that it will in some way help others”.
As far back as I my conscious memory goes, I have always been a high strung person who needlessly worried and got worked up over nothing. Always scared of what was coming up around the bend, I always expected and prepared for the worst as though it were inevitable. Hell, I remember fifth grade, one of the years I was a straight A student, having anxiety attacks the night before the last day of school, because I was terrified that I would be held back !!
It has been a relief to me to learn that I am not unique among those who are effected by ADHD in that social skills do not come easily for me. This difficulty caused my grade school-high school years hard. I was forever being picked on some incidents are quite dramatic and clearly etched in my mind for the emotional turmoil it caused. While I was never a bad kid who was forever acting-up, seems like two or three times a year one or many kids would pick on me till I could not take it anymore resulting in the inevitable scuffle. But even in adult life, my struggles with social skills has caused me some difficulty.
But as far as my condition is concerned, things did not really starting serious until college. My anxiety knew no bounds and started effecting my ability to function. My pessimistic outlook and worry-wart ways drove my friends to tears of annoyance and even as early as sophomore year people were telling me (usually not so nicely) that I needed medication. But I never seriously listened because it was usually said in anger and not out of genuine concern. So I let it go in one ear and out the other. That was until.....
Until my Army National Guard unit was called to active duty three weeks after the 9-11 tragedy. We were stationed stateside as part of Operation Noble Eagle I homeland defense operations for a year. Nothing too crazy, in fact more days were agonizingly boring than not. BUT that whole year was full of uncertainty and frustration. Since the Army was writing or rewriting the book on homeland security operations, things were forever changing. Also the military was in the preliminary planning stages not only of domestic security, but also the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq. So we kept being told our tour was going to be extended, shortened, that we were going to be prepping for an overseas mission, and on and on an on. I was literally told by the same officer that we were going home in five days, then that its changed and we are going Iraq, and that we'd be on our current mission for at least two and a half years, back to “we still don't know”, all in the same day. When you start messing with people's emotions with that even a mentally strong soldier will inevitably start to get rattled. And guys were starting to have mental break downs so often, you really never knew who was going to snap next. But without question I was among those who struggled the worst. So much so that my platoon sergeant ordered me to get some counseling out of genuine concern for my well being.
The stress of the uncertainty and constant back and forth of the status of our deployment had caused me to crack. I had a very dramatic stress breakdown one night where I spent three hours screaming obscenities while smashing my head into an actual brick wall outside the barracks and leaping into the air to more forcefully drive my face into the ground. God bless my squad leader, he was eventually able to get through to me, calm me down, and help me regain my composure. But I was never the same and over time became unable to sleep and developed a nervous tick. So the platoon sergeant ordered me to get counseling. So I reluctantly visited the post physiologist. However even in that degenerated state, I could see a mile a way that the Army's mental health program was designed solely to weed-out the soldiers it felt could no longer be trusted with a rifle. Anyone who went there for treatment had to be escorted and the waiting room was guarded by a big menacingly looking NCO. No way I was going to honestly answer any questions the over-worked and obviously fatigued Army physiologist asked me.
After a couple hours I finally see the man and he asks my why I am here. I simply tell him that the stress of things had made it impossible for me to sleep and the lack of sleep is making me very grouchy. That's about all I told him other than my name, rank, unit, and ssn. Just like we'd been told to do if we ever became POW's in hindsight !! So he gets tired of this and simply tells me to cut down on the drinking, schedules me for an anger management seminar, and suggests taking Benadryl to help sleep better, then sends me on my way. But on that day I made a promise to myself that I would seriously get help when I came home to stay. Also as luck would have it, two days later we FINALLY got orders to demobilize that did not change and went home three weeks after that. By that time, I don't think anyone really believed we were demobilizing until the first sergeant dismissed us after the final formation.
Now please do not misunderstand me. I don't blame the Army for my problems. I was a soldier, there to do a job with an organization I VOLUNTARILY joined. As the third generation of my family to serve in the Army, I knew full well that Army life would not be all sunshine and rainbows. I knew that one day the green mother would call on me to make sacrifices and endure hardships in the name of protecting this great country. I also know that what little I sacrificed, pales in comparison to the sacrifices the brave young men and women of America's Armed Forces are enduring today as they fight and die in overseas conflicts and I hold them in great respect and reverence.
Anyhow getting back on topic I did get help, several months after we returned to civilian life. It took me a while but I finally got enough courage to seek the advice of a general physician. He started me on anti-depressants. This was late 2002 and the available medications were primitive compared to what's on the market today. I must have tried a half dozen different ones over the course of the next year, all with quite brutal side effects. Everything from your basic diarrhea to the sensation of being electrically shocked at the base of my head. So while I was happy with the overall benefits I got from them, I could not stand the painful side effects, and quit taking them after two years. I figured I'd just “take it like a man”, suck it up, and get on with my life. After all, I had just decided to quit working full time in order to finish my last year of college. I didn't have time to sit and mope or feel sorry for myself, I had to kick the engine into high gear and get things done.
Upon graduating college I moved home for a year and a half. It was the first time in six years I'd returned home for longer than 2 weeks in nearly 6 years. Mom and Dad took notice of my anxiety and increased irritability and about 8 months into my stay started asking to consider going back on medication. But I had been down that road once before and the thought of enduring those harsh side effects was unbearable. So I resisted until the company I was working for laid me off. The worry and humiliation of this became so overwhelming that I started having anxiety attacks again. I'd shiver uncontrollably like I was naked in a snow storm despite laying beneath a half dozen blankets. So I went to the doctor and started antidepressants again. This time there was a new medication that was far more effective with no noticeable side effects. It worked and for a few more years I thought the problem was fixed.
That was until three years ago when my general physician told me he couldn't increase the dose anymore and that he feared my condition was more serious than he was qualified to deal with, and referred me to a psychiatrist. By this time I had moved back to Columbus, Oh and was living on my own.
The psychiatrist reviewed my charts and simply increased the dosage. But it didn't help me that much. But I dealt with it because I didn't know what else to do. But early this past spring a combination of increased stress at work and dramatically increased stress in my family life started pushing me into anxiety attacks again. I was always intensely grouchy and I'd lash-out at even the most trivial things. But it was the mood swings that started to get my attention. Still I resisted because in hindsight I realized I had a bunker mentality. My family and I were definitely not seeing eye to eye with each other last spring and arguing constantly. I was also bickering with my friends an awful lot and all but one couple had started withdrawing from me. Every time a friend or family member and I had tense conversation, they'd repeatedly ask if I was still taking my medication. Since I felt like everyone was dismissing me because I was on antidepressants, I quit taking them, and things went from bad to worse almost overnight.
Eventually my parents and I fought each other to a standstill and we established a tense peace in our fighting. Dad drove down to see me under a flag of truce to talk about things. Through this we were able to clear the air and the hostilities that had been developed due to misunderstandings. I realized that Mom and Dad were asking about my medicines because they were legitimately concerned for my welfare; so I relented and started taking the pills again.
I also went back to my shrink to discuss the mood swings that had started to really frighten me. I could go from white hot anger to down in the dumps depression inside of five minutes or pure jubilation to being overwhelmed with anxiety in a quarter of an hour. People around me were always walking on eggs because they never knew which Mike they were going to get from one minute to the next. You just never knew if I was going to want to hug you or fight you. Think we're on the road to the land of sunshine and rainbows ? Guess again. The doctor took all of ten minutes to diagnose me as bi-polar, write out a script for some additional anxiety medications and bipolar pills and a month later doubled the dosage.
The problem that I did not know was that I wasn't actually bi-polar. These pills had the effect of tranquilizing me. This was only compounded by the fact that I switched from eight hour shifts to twelve hour shifts at work. I could barely make it through the day and suddenly, for the first time in my life, I was getting into trouble with my employer for missing too much work. I was days away from giving-up and starting the paperwork for disability. This thought filled me with deep depression and despair, despite the large dosages of pills. Whether it was the feeling that doing this would be letting my family down or a small sliver of self pride I don't know but I decided I could not give-in without getting a second or even third opinion. This is where I believe the hand of God, who was always there, started getting quite noticeably involved. God sent two angles into my family's and I's life who have changed out lives for the better. One in the form an organization and the second in the form of a doctor into my
The organization that he sent was NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illnesses). During the course of all these events I had heard one of their radio ads while driving home from work one night. So I called them up and the compassionate angel who answered the phone, spent two hours talking to me. She helped answer all these questions I had been scared to ask since I first started looking for help. Everything from medical laws (I'd always been terrified that if I said the wrong thing they'd take me away to an 1800's style insane asylum), what kinds of treatment options to consider, support groups, and above all what to expect from a good psychiatrist and assure me that it was normal for people with mental illnesses to get a second opinion and that I wouldn't be offending my old doctor by doing so. Amazingly enough my mother made a surprise visit to check on me the next day because they were still extremely worried. I told her about this great organization I'd just learned of and to she gave me a funny look. Apparently she and Dad had heard a similar radio ad and were planning on attending a support group meeting run by NAMI later that week ! NAMI's support group has been an immense help to my parents in terms of understanding the complex nature of mental illnesses as well as providing an emotional support group for them where they can share their experiences and problems with others who understand what they are going through.
With new found courage I started contacting mental health treatment facilities. If you live in Central Ohio and you ever feel you are alone in your struggles with mental illness try to change psychiatrists and see how quickly you can get an appointment. I must have called close to a dozen offices and none save one could get me in any sooner than four months out. That one was able to get me an appointment in three weeks. That alone made me suspicious but I thought I'd go see what he had to say. Turns out this man aka Dr. Martin was probably the one person with the experience and knowledge in Central Ohio who could help me. After having me fill out a grueling five page single spaced questionnaire and a 90 minute interview he looked me straight in the eye and said “Mike I can get you feeling better within six weeks and fully normal in six months”. That got my attention. He then went on to explain that I was not bipolar, I was ADHD with depression. WHAT ? I said.
He went on to explain how ADHD exists in adults but few psychiatrists have been trained on how dopamine levels can have an effect on the brain though they know almost too much about how serotonin levels work. Drew a picture of the brain and started explaining the physiology of the condition. A combination of rigorous exercise, antidepressants, and stimulants and six weeks later, at our follow-up appointment, I happily admitted he was right !! It hasn't been easy and I suffer set backs and bad days from time to time. But six months as of this February my family and I both agree that Dr. Martin made good on his second statement.
I'm still unsure about a lot of things and feel that I still have some work to do in terms of my recovery. However, I do know that thanks to the help this man has provided I am in a much better place mentally, emotionally, and spiritually than I've been in at least eight years. My employer has noticed the change, several managers have complimented me on my improved attitude and rewarded this by giving me increased leadership opportunities and chances to help with employee performance development, something that I've long since expressed a strong interest in. I'm managing my finances much better, I'm staying on top of my cleaning chores, and all those other aspects of my life that I've always struggled with. The understanding of my condition and its tendencies have helped me get over my long held belief that I am in some way inferior to others. I am not lazy, dumb, or stupid, I'm just different. Mental illness is not an excuse and I'll never belittle others who are afflicted with a mental illnesses by blaming my condition for my actions. But it does help me understand who I am and why I am that way. Its unlocked a lot of long unsolved mysteries about my past and about my habits.
I will always be guarded in terms of how I view the future. Like so many of my fellow wounded birds who've shared their stories here, life has sucker punched me more than a few times. But for once in my life, I feel that if I can keep my guard up and my focus square on my recovery, that opportunities for better things in my life can come along and that it won't all be clouds and rainstorms all the time. I am so thankful to God for the people he's put into my life these past several months and how he's been able to help me through such angles as Dr. Martin and the good people of NAMI.
One last thing I want to mention. As you can infer from this story, I'm very grateful to my parents for helping me through all this. I certainly am extremely grateful to them for their love and support. While I still have a ways to go, I would never have made it this far without them. I'd also be remiss if failed to mention a husband-wife couple who've been friends of mine for going on eight years now. Even at my worst, they never stopped being my friends, never stopped praying for me, never stopped reaching out to me. The wife has had her own serious struggles with mental illnesses and one of their sons deals with ADD as well. They've been very open about sharing their experiences with me as well as providing insight and information they've learned from life's school of hard knocks. I owe them a great deal for this.
15 February 2010
What happened with the last blog article
I just wanted to apologize for not posting the article I announced I was going to the other day. What happened was that I ran across some remnants of my past that I wanted to journal about. Even before the article took shape I wondered if the selected topic was going to be too intense and personal to share publicly much as I wanted to.
I'm glad I had an opportunity to journal about the experience, but when finished it was just as I was suspecting: way too intense and much much too personal to be shared. But it was a good experience that allowed me to heal some old wounds and get a handle on how deep this recovery process can be. So again thank you for understanding and I hope to have something good on here by sun-up.
Until then this is the RedHeaded Rambler signing off
I'm glad I had an opportunity to journal about the experience, but when finished it was just as I was suspecting: way too intense and much much too personal to be shared. But it was a good experience that allowed me to heal some old wounds and get a handle on how deep this recovery process can be. So again thank you for understanding and I hope to have something good on here by sun-up.
Until then this is the RedHeaded Rambler signing off
13 February 2010
General messge to anyone who views the social networking sites I've linked to this blog
I know I've posted a message about a new blog post here tonight through some sites I link here. However as I've sat down with my word processor to write it, well I'm just not certain I will actually post it. Its not some hot topic crazy rant or anything. Its about some childhood memories, and right now it's becoming somewhat intense and I'm on the bubble about whether or not its too personal and too intense to share publicly. I know I need to finish it for me, and I also know I need to sleep on it before I make a decision on sharing it with others outside personal friends and family(don't worry it doesn't involve them either).
If I don't, I'll post something else on Sunday after I finish my taxes. I'm flat broke right now and I need money :)
This is the RedHeaded Rambler signing off till next time
If I don't, I'll post something else on Sunday after I finish my taxes. I'm flat broke right now and I need money :)
This is the RedHeaded Rambler signing off till next time
08 February 2010
Everything I need to know, I learned from an NCO
Can't be too careful these days. Please remember what is written under my “About Me” applies here as it does with all articles posted on this site.
Also since as you can tell by the title I'm about to talk about some things that pertain to my time in the service, I just want to add the following disclosure/message for all the military veterans who might read this.
I state and restate this repeatedly because it is something highly important to me that all people but ESPECIALLY veterans understand. I do not seek to portray myself out to be anything more than I am. I served stateside at Ft. Knox. All things considered, it was a relatively cushy mission compared to what all of our brave soldiers where and are doing overseas. I hold those who sacrificed so much more than me in high respect and reverence. I don't want to insult them by acting like I was some kind of hard core Audie Murphy whose seen and done it all. It is a manner of personal honor to me to not do this. Plus no one can stand that guy at the end of the bar at the VFW who talks like he spent six years in the woods wasting VC but you later find he out only drove the Sergeant Major around the base in Asshole Arkansas and was later medically discharge for stubbing his toe walking into the NCO club after 6 months in the service. I do not want to ever be that guy.
Okay, thanks for humoring me by reading all that. Time to get to the point. Here this past week in Columbus, Ohio we had a hell of a snow storm hit. About twelve inches in 24 hours which is a lot for us. While on the way to the grocery to get some supplies in preparation for this impending storm, I was calling neighbors to see if they needed me to pick-up anything for them. One person HIGHLY and quite adamantly suggested I fill my bathtub and sinks with water in case we lost power for several days. People have suggested that to me before and I have always cringed at the idea for several reasons.
First and foremost, if my sinks are full of water; where on earth will I put my dirty dishes ? I mean there have been many times where my kitchen sinks are so full of dirty dishes that I've started putting them in my bathroom sink ! So what would I do with them ? Put them on the floor ? That's where the clothes are !! Do you think I'm some sort of pig ? Plus hording that much water, given how clumsy and forgetful I am, is a receipt for disaster. I'd start running the bathtub faucet and forget about it till it overflows and the floor becomes so water-logged that it collapses and deposits the tub into my downstairs neighbor's living room, and my renter's liability insurance is already high enough as it is. Plus even when I do keep-up with the cleaning, I have a serious mildew problem and if you read where I've referenced my battles with mold in past articles, you'll understand my concerns in regards to creating more damp wet environments in my apartment.
So anyhow, while parking my car at the grocery store, I noticed the collapsible shovel in the back of my vehicle. This was from my Army days and is commonly referred to as an “e-tool” short for “entrenching tool” that we used to dig foxholes, fixed-fighting positions, slit trenches, and coincidentally makes the perfect seat for executing a “class two download” when locked at a 90 degree angle if you get my drift. Just dig you a little hole, lock it into place, place one butt cheek on it, squat, aim, fire, then use it to bury the deposit. It was this recollection that made it occur to me that everything I need to know to survive this storm should we loose power was taught to me by any one of a number of sergeants I served under in my Army days. Furthermore, while it would be prudent to fill a cooler or two with water; I didn't need to horde it to the extremes my friend had suggested.
I will now elaborate. Keeping track of your equipment ESPECIALLY the equipment you need to respond to immediate threats on the battlefield is drummed into your head from day one of boot camp. In the Army that meant knowing and being within arm's reach of your weapon, helmet, gas mask, and ammunition at all times. Heaven help you if you were in the field and someone caught you walking around without your rifle and web gear on. And we kept those things literally tied onto us at all times in case they went flying out of of our hands or out of our pockets while diving for cover. And it was that thought I had in mind when I went shopping for the flashlights on my shopping list. Its why I selected flashlights that have bright read handles making them easy to find in the dark and why I placed them in places where they'd be easily and intuitively found should I need them.
Second is to always bring extra of key items that you depend on. Especially when my unit was mechanized and we ran around in armored personal carriers, my first team leader repeatedly said “God will NOT forgive those who bring only one !!!” and we always opted to bring extra spare parts for certain essential pieces of equipment in lieu of extra personal gear. Which is why I bought TWO flashlights, and a couple extra packs of batteries for electronics I'd really want in the event of being snowed-in.
Third, while food is important, drinking water is a mater of survival. I saw and treated several heat casualties during my days in the service. Trust me, you DO NOT want to get heat exhaustion or heat stroke which can happen even in the winter and are caused by dehydration. While in the field, we rarely used our drinking water to bathe or shave though we did both daily. So next on my list was a case of bottled water. Thus I ensured that I would have plenty of safe water to drink. As for cleaning, we actually gave ourselves sponge bathes with baby wipes or wet-naps. So a couple containers of them was next on my list. For shaving, I dry shaved, or like most carried a small container of shave cream. Well I guess we did splash a little water on to do that the more I think about it. Now being a spoiled lazy civilian, I just made sure my electric razor was fully charged when I got back. Easy enough. Also on the subject as you can infer from the opening paragraph, I figured if I was without power and unable to flush toilets, I'd carve an outhouse from a snow drift and use my old e-tool. Therefor, eliminating the need to horde so much water.
In battle, communication is a mater of survival. My first team leader was big on radio maintenance and knowing how to operate it correctly. He stressed that more than he did rifle maintenance and marksmanship. I distinctly remember having to stifle a chuckle once when he started one of his many rants on maintaining the radio with “That radio is the most powerful weapon on this APC !!”. I wanted to laugh because at the moment he was saying this, we were sitting in an APC loaded down with an anti-tank missile system, a 50cal machine gun, and five stocky soldiers armed with two pistols, three grenade launchers, four assault rifles, a light machine gun, bayonets, and a half dozen BFK's (Big F-ing Knives) between us. But old sarge was right. With that radio we could call our friends in a similarly armed APC to come help, artillery strikes, air strikes, and if you were on maneuvers at Camp Grayling, pizza delivery from Billy Bob's Pizza & Salmonella Shack. Now while I don't have much of a need for artillery and assistance from a M-901ITV fire team much in civilian life anymore (unless I'm driving on Hwy 270 at 5pm on a Friday near the Hwy 23 North exit) it was the knowledge that in an emergency disaster, I would need a way to get information about the outside world as well as call for help, that lead me to my next purchase. One of those hand cranked AM/FM/Weather Alert radios as well as to make sure all of my cell phone and laptop computer batteries were fully charged when I got home. This ensures I will have a way to learn of weather alerts, communications from emergency workers, and to call for help should I need to do so. Again, all of this stuff I make very sure to keep in an easily accessible place so I can quickly find it if I need it.
Lastly, if I'd have to go several days without power, I'd want to eat something eventually. Well my father, who was also a NCO with the Army, has taught me how to grill and even gave me a gas grill last year. So I picked-up a couple bottles of propane and some cuts of beef since beef can be cooked quickly, allowing me to conserve fuel. Apartment complex rules and township ordinances be dammed if I'm hungry !!
Okay, this has run long enough. Stay safe out there. Until next time, this is The RedHeaded Rambler signing off.
Also since as you can tell by the title I'm about to talk about some things that pertain to my time in the service, I just want to add the following disclosure/message for all the military veterans who might read this.
I state and restate this repeatedly because it is something highly important to me that all people but ESPECIALLY veterans understand. I do not seek to portray myself out to be anything more than I am. I served stateside at Ft. Knox. All things considered, it was a relatively cushy mission compared to what all of our brave soldiers where and are doing overseas. I hold those who sacrificed so much more than me in high respect and reverence. I don't want to insult them by acting like I was some kind of hard core Audie Murphy whose seen and done it all. It is a manner of personal honor to me to not do this. Plus no one can stand that guy at the end of the bar at the VFW who talks like he spent six years in the woods wasting VC but you later find he out only drove the Sergeant Major around the base in Asshole Arkansas and was later medically discharge for stubbing his toe walking into the NCO club after 6 months in the service. I do not want to ever be that guy.
Okay, thanks for humoring me by reading all that. Time to get to the point. Here this past week in Columbus, Ohio we had a hell of a snow storm hit. About twelve inches in 24 hours which is a lot for us. While on the way to the grocery to get some supplies in preparation for this impending storm, I was calling neighbors to see if they needed me to pick-up anything for them. One person HIGHLY and quite adamantly suggested I fill my bathtub and sinks with water in case we lost power for several days. People have suggested that to me before and I have always cringed at the idea for several reasons.
First and foremost, if my sinks are full of water; where on earth will I put my dirty dishes ? I mean there have been many times where my kitchen sinks are so full of dirty dishes that I've started putting them in my bathroom sink ! So what would I do with them ? Put them on the floor ? That's where the clothes are !! Do you think I'm some sort of pig ? Plus hording that much water, given how clumsy and forgetful I am, is a receipt for disaster. I'd start running the bathtub faucet and forget about it till it overflows and the floor becomes so water-logged that it collapses and deposits the tub into my downstairs neighbor's living room, and my renter's liability insurance is already high enough as it is. Plus even when I do keep-up with the cleaning, I have a serious mildew problem and if you read where I've referenced my battles with mold in past articles, you'll understand my concerns in regards to creating more damp wet environments in my apartment.
So anyhow, while parking my car at the grocery store, I noticed the collapsible shovel in the back of my vehicle. This was from my Army days and is commonly referred to as an “e-tool” short for “entrenching tool” that we used to dig foxholes, fixed-fighting positions, slit trenches, and coincidentally makes the perfect seat for executing a “class two download” when locked at a 90 degree angle if you get my drift. Just dig you a little hole, lock it into place, place one butt cheek on it, squat, aim, fire, then use it to bury the deposit. It was this recollection that made it occur to me that everything I need to know to survive this storm should we loose power was taught to me by any one of a number of sergeants I served under in my Army days. Furthermore, while it would be prudent to fill a cooler or two with water; I didn't need to horde it to the extremes my friend had suggested.
I will now elaborate. Keeping track of your equipment ESPECIALLY the equipment you need to respond to immediate threats on the battlefield is drummed into your head from day one of boot camp. In the Army that meant knowing and being within arm's reach of your weapon, helmet, gas mask, and ammunition at all times. Heaven help you if you were in the field and someone caught you walking around without your rifle and web gear on. And we kept those things literally tied onto us at all times in case they went flying out of of our hands or out of our pockets while diving for cover. And it was that thought I had in mind when I went shopping for the flashlights on my shopping list. Its why I selected flashlights that have bright read handles making them easy to find in the dark and why I placed them in places where they'd be easily and intuitively found should I need them.
Second is to always bring extra of key items that you depend on. Especially when my unit was mechanized and we ran around in armored personal carriers, my first team leader repeatedly said “God will NOT forgive those who bring only one !!!” and we always opted to bring extra spare parts for certain essential pieces of equipment in lieu of extra personal gear. Which is why I bought TWO flashlights, and a couple extra packs of batteries for electronics I'd really want in the event of being snowed-in.
Third, while food is important, drinking water is a mater of survival. I saw and treated several heat casualties during my days in the service. Trust me, you DO NOT want to get heat exhaustion or heat stroke which can happen even in the winter and are caused by dehydration. While in the field, we rarely used our drinking water to bathe or shave though we did both daily. So next on my list was a case of bottled water. Thus I ensured that I would have plenty of safe water to drink. As for cleaning, we actually gave ourselves sponge bathes with baby wipes or wet-naps. So a couple containers of them was next on my list. For shaving, I dry shaved, or like most carried a small container of shave cream. Well I guess we did splash a little water on to do that the more I think about it. Now being a spoiled lazy civilian, I just made sure my electric razor was fully charged when I got back. Easy enough. Also on the subject as you can infer from the opening paragraph, I figured if I was without power and unable to flush toilets, I'd carve an outhouse from a snow drift and use my old e-tool. Therefor, eliminating the need to horde so much water.
In battle, communication is a mater of survival. My first team leader was big on radio maintenance and knowing how to operate it correctly. He stressed that more than he did rifle maintenance and marksmanship. I distinctly remember having to stifle a chuckle once when he started one of his many rants on maintaining the radio with “That radio is the most powerful weapon on this APC !!”. I wanted to laugh because at the moment he was saying this, we were sitting in an APC loaded down with an anti-tank missile system, a 50cal machine gun, and five stocky soldiers armed with two pistols, three grenade launchers, four assault rifles, a light machine gun, bayonets, and a half dozen BFK's (Big F-ing Knives) between us. But old sarge was right. With that radio we could call our friends in a similarly armed APC to come help, artillery strikes, air strikes, and if you were on maneuvers at Camp Grayling, pizza delivery from Billy Bob's Pizza & Salmonella Shack. Now while I don't have much of a need for artillery and assistance from a M-901ITV fire team much in civilian life anymore (unless I'm driving on Hwy 270 at 5pm on a Friday near the Hwy 23 North exit) it was the knowledge that in an emergency disaster, I would need a way to get information about the outside world as well as call for help, that lead me to my next purchase. One of those hand cranked AM/FM/Weather Alert radios as well as to make sure all of my cell phone and laptop computer batteries were fully charged when I got home. This ensures I will have a way to learn of weather alerts, communications from emergency workers, and to call for help should I need to do so. Again, all of this stuff I make very sure to keep in an easily accessible place so I can quickly find it if I need it.
Lastly, if I'd have to go several days without power, I'd want to eat something eventually. Well my father, who was also a NCO with the Army, has taught me how to grill and even gave me a gas grill last year. So I picked-up a couple bottles of propane and some cuts of beef since beef can be cooked quickly, allowing me to conserve fuel. Apartment complex rules and township ordinances be dammed if I'm hungry !!
Okay, this has run long enough. Stay safe out there. Until next time, this is The RedHeaded Rambler signing off.
You might be ADD if...
You might be ADD if...
Remember the disclaimer under my About Me section, thanks again !
So more ADD moments. Now please do not misunderstand. I don't intend to diminish, demean, or belittle the condition or the people who suffer from it. For sure its nearly ruined my life and brought about painful consequences. But if one can't laugh at themselves, what can you laugh at ? And hey, my ADD has given me a lot to laugh at from time to time !!
So cleaned my refrigerator today as it occurred to me it hadn't been done in so long I can't remember when if ever its been cleaned since I assumed occupancy of this domicile.
Literally found half a container of yoghourt that expired in September 2008. Fortunately, VERY fortunately common sense kicked-in as I was about to open it and unleash some unimaginably hellish stench on my humble abode and I left it sealed and deposited it in the trash. Also found some GROSS beef leftover from a pot-roast I made a year ago. It had mutated into some kind of unnatural life form that had definitive opinions about changing its residence from the refrigerator to the dumpster. It did not go willingly or easily and at one point I briefly considered calling animal control for assistance before I was able to break its will and make it submit to its fate. I also found some citrus that had degraded to the point where it was impossible to determine the species of fruit it was. Again my natural reaction was to open it and my brain was able to overrule that decision just before I was past the point of no return.
I would like to apologize in advance to the garbageman. But hey I guess we are even; being that you wake me up every Monday at the crack of noon with the soothing sounds of dumpsters being hydraulically smashed against the top of your truck and your even more relaxing warning siren.
Until next time, this is the RedHeaded Rambler signing off.
Remember the disclaimer under my About Me section, thanks again !
So more ADD moments. Now please do not misunderstand. I don't intend to diminish, demean, or belittle the condition or the people who suffer from it. For sure its nearly ruined my life and brought about painful consequences. But if one can't laugh at themselves, what can you laugh at ? And hey, my ADD has given me a lot to laugh at from time to time !!
So cleaned my refrigerator today as it occurred to me it hadn't been done in so long I can't remember when if ever its been cleaned since I assumed occupancy of this domicile.
Literally found half a container of yoghourt that expired in September 2008. Fortunately, VERY fortunately common sense kicked-in as I was about to open it and unleash some unimaginably hellish stench on my humble abode and I left it sealed and deposited it in the trash. Also found some GROSS beef leftover from a pot-roast I made a year ago. It had mutated into some kind of unnatural life form that had definitive opinions about changing its residence from the refrigerator to the dumpster. It did not go willingly or easily and at one point I briefly considered calling animal control for assistance before I was able to break its will and make it submit to its fate. I also found some citrus that had degraded to the point where it was impossible to determine the species of fruit it was. Again my natural reaction was to open it and my brain was able to overrule that decision just before I was past the point of no return.
I would like to apologize in advance to the garbageman. But hey I guess we are even; being that you wake me up every Monday at the crack of noon with the soothing sounds of dumpsters being hydraulically smashed against the top of your truck and your even more relaxing warning siren.
Until next time, this is the RedHeaded Rambler signing off.
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