Life with Co-Occurring Disorders

As a child, I never seemed to feel as if I fit in. I always seemed to be the odd man out. I remembered being incredibly sad and depressed even as a pre-teen. When a “friend” (let’s use that term loosely) decided she hated me and that everyone should too, I started planning my suicide. I was only 11. My mother knew I was always lashing out, always crying, or always anxious, but we all thought it was a phase. Looking back, I could see why. I don’t hate my parents for thinking that.

In high school, I was bullied for being on the plus size. I started losing weight but dieting and exercising the correct way at first. Eventually, I found an “easier” way. A more sustainable way. One were I could eat whatever I wanted, but not gain a single ounce. Bulimia. I would eat laxative like candy from the time I was 17 til the age of 22. I still have colon issues. It started with only taking two laxatives a day, and ended at over 30 laxatives a night. I will literally gag still at the thought of how I would pop them like pez candy.

At age 21, I was admitted to a mental hospital for a suicide attempt. While I was in the mental hospital, I was diagnosed with Bipolar type 2. That made total sense to me. I would go through major manic phases where I would do totally insane things, such as steal thousands of dollars from people. Yes, I have been arrested multiple times, and no I am not a felon (I deserve to be, but I serve a gracious God who has helped me fight my charges and I have paid restitution for my manic phases). Yes, I was a total scum bag. I promise on medication, I am a totally different person. It's quite sad actually. That is a story for another time. I also have multiple sex partners when I am in a manic phase, along with other things that are completely irritational.

My anxiety is only bad if I do not take my medicine, and then I have severe panic attacks, where I will hyperventilate. I stress out easily, and the fear of being left out of not knowing something freaks me out.

My misophonia is probably the worse. Any little noise will send me in a panic still to this day. I can not stand the sound of chewing, crunching, typing, anything repetitive. It will send me into a complete angry fit, and I dwell on the noise I heard for a good few minutes. No one understands how bad I wish I could just get over it.

My drug addiction at one time completely ruled my life. I would wake up in the morning and snort a line of coke. Then I would put a fentanyl patch on, go to work, snort another line at lunch, and drink a fifth of rum after work. I did this same routine for several years until I overdosed on my little brother’s birthday, and my older brother found me. The very next week, after withdrawal/detoxing for a week, I found out I was pregnant with my child. When I say my child saved my life, I mean every single word.

I have been clean and sober for over three year, and I take 4 pills everyday to live as much of a normal life as possible. I go to work everyday, after dropping my child off with a babysitter. After picking my child up after work, we go home and he “helps” me with my school work. We then cook supper for my husband. It is possible to live a normal life with mental illnesses, you just have to work at and take your medicine. I do understand mine are not as bad as others.