How It All Began A bipolargrls story

I never told the story of how it all began, did I? I mean my being diagnosed with Bipolar. Well to fully understand I'll have to go back to when I was born...
I was born in a small village in the East part of Berlin and one day..................No, just kidding...

No my story begins when I was 28 years old. The date: September 1999... I had been married about three years then and my only son was in the 5th grade.

For the past two or three years for 7-10 days out of every month I was in agony, literally. It was so bad that I would pass out from the pain. I had several major surgeries to try and alleviate the problem, but it just kept coming back. The only option was a full Hysterectomy. I really hate that damn word. Now I had already had two children from previous relationships, but not any with my husband, so this was hard for me because it meant not having any with him. But, I really had no choice in the matter. It was either bleed to death, get cancer, or be in agony all the time. I chose the surgery.

So a couple of weeks later I was in the hospital recovering. Do you know where they put women who have undergone a Hysterectomy? The Maternity ward...yep that's right....women who have probably been trying for a child, or for other reasons and they put you on the freak'n maternity ward. Then on top of that they tell you to get up and walk around the halls and where do you think you walk by on that dreaded trip? Right by the room where they keep all the babies. Oh joy joy...I was so distraught after my walk I collapsed on my bed and refused to get up until it was time to leave.

But that's not the problem I had. When I woke up in my room after surgery, I couldn't feel my legs. Okay for some this may be ok, but for me (I am completely claustrophobic) so anything that is binding or I can't move in or tight or small spaces....you get the idea...I get panicky (is that a word?) anywho...I started to freak out, my husband would come over and try and move my legs for me but it didn't do any good because I couldn't feel it and that made it even worse. So my husband called in the nurse who then called the Anesthesiologist who was a complete asshole to me saying it was going to take time and this and that and kiss my ass...finally I agreed to just leave it as is. I made my husband go all the way home and get my favorite cd (charlie chaplin) the music from the movie and my cd player. I only made it through the night by listening to the music and concentrating on that and then finally I was able to fall asleep. My doctor came in the next morning and said she heard I was giving everyone a hard time....huh...who cares...I just had my female organs ripped out of me, I'm on the same floor with the babies I'll never be able to have again, and severe claustrophobia coupled with my inability to move my legs cause my distress. I am so sorry...NOT....Anyway she had the Anesthesiologist come in and remove the needle from my spine and put me on a morphin drip....wow, much better...la la land...

I was released that afternoon...which was bad because there had been a severe ice storm. Ok, so I can barely walk, it feels like my insides (what is left)are going to fall out of me at every step I take. Couple with the fact that there is a solid sheet of ice from where I am to the car...my husband had pulled up as close as possible, but oh well you get the point.

What would normally take twently minutes to get home; took almost two hours. By this time I'm thinking "God must really be pissed at me". We get home, I go straight to bed and that's where I stay for the next six weeks. With the exception of showers. I would say close to the end of the 3rd week is when things started to change, for the worse. My mother-in-law was watching over me at the time. I began to snap at her for no reason.
I cried all the damn time. Now I know most of this at the time was due to hormones and my body adjusting to the drastic change. But by the end of the six weeks I was like the Satan spawn of Hell.

I was screaming a cursing at my mother-in-law, calling her names. Demanding that my husband come from work. I also wanted my mom, but when my mom got there I did they same thing to her. Now I don't remember a lot of this, I'm going by what my husband has told me. I threatened to kill everyone including myself. Now to know me, I just am not that way at all. I mean I have attitude in the past but this was ridiculous. My mother-in-law left and so did my mom and my poor husband was left to bare the brunt of my rath. I'm not sure who made the appointment, me or my husband, but I had my first visit with a Psychiatrist. This was in November of 1999. That was when I got the blow of my life....She diagnosed me with Bipolar Disorder...What??? Ok I was in shock, but the funny thing is I had no idea what it meant. I just knew it didn't sound to good. The Psychiatrist told me that sometimes when you have something traumatic happen to you it can trigger something in you, bring it to the surface. My hysterectomy is what did it for me. I look back now at my past and I can now say that yes I was Bipolar back then too. When I was a teenager. I had all the symptoms, all the quirks if you will...of Bipolar. I remember telling my mom once that I needed to see a Doctor, but she said I was fine and to go on about my business. When I was diagnosed she said she felt devistated because she should have listened to me back then. And that in a nutshell is how it all came about.