Firstly I am bipolar.
Last April (08) my husband and I split. It had been coming for years for me, but some how my husband had no clue no matter how many times I tried to tell him. 6 months after our seperation I started dating an old friend and we have been happy together. When my husband first moved out everything was fine. I had a great job, I was paying all the bills and I live with my disabled parents so I am supporting 3 kids, myself and both of them. But I did that no problem. Then, around Thanksgiving the rumors started about layoffs. I worked for an independent company that was housed inside and for the use of a large chemical company. The chemical company started laying people off and though I was looking for a new job, I threw myself into being the best employee I could. At Christmas I found out that my boss had hired the wife of the supervisor of one of our locations. It is against company policy to allow spouses to work together so I started to wonder where she was going to put her.
After Christmas, one of my co-workers lost his wife and while we were all at the funeral, my boss introduced the woman she just hired to someone and said “she going to be working with us at ________. She said the name of my office. We didnt even have enough work for the 3 people that were in the office much less a 4th.
After that my co-workers started really pushing me to find another job. All of the people in my office have worked together for over 10 years, I was the new person. It was like they knew what my boss was planning and although they cared enough to try to encourage me to find work, none of them cared enough to actually tell my boss that she was wrong, though they all told me.
On March 13th (Friday the 13th no less, the second one in 2 months!) My boss called and told me that I had 2 weeks to find a new job. That Monday I went to work, told my coworkers what happened and they were all pretending to be mad about it but no one spoke up for me.
The next morning I woke up, got my kids ready for school, sent them off and then took a bottle of pills. I woke up completely hopeless and not knowing how I was going to care for my children. If I went back to my husband I knew I would definately be so unhappy I’d kill myself anyway, but if I didn’t go back I would never be able to care for everyone.Â Then I remembered. I have a life insurance policy that would pay for my funeral with enough left over to care for them well until they went off to college or moved out. And it paid in the event of suicide. That was it for me.
My boyfriend found me, got me to the hospital and I woke up strapped to the bed the next morning. The hospital in town has NO psychiatrist on staff so they sent a social worker to talk to me. She said that she wanted me to go into a private facility for a few days and I agreed. I have insurance, good insurance, I’ll rest a few days and feel better right?
Then the head of ICU comes in to talk to me. The nurse followed because I am a female patient and he is male. The doctor stopped her at the door, and told her that he was “about to get preachy” and he didn’t want to get her in trouble. When we were alone he opened with “there is no secret that I love Jesus, and maybe if you accept him into your life you wouldnt find yourself in this situation.”
I don’t believe in god, I feel very passionate about my disbelief and I take great offense in a doctor preaching to me about Jesus. Now I am looking at him like he’s as crazy as he thinks I am.
The nurse in the hall heard him, and imediately got the chief of staff to come talk to me. He said it wasn’t the first time it had happened and he would speak to him. I then told the social worker that I was not going to any hospital that man was going to send me to and that I wanted to go home.
20 minutes later the doctor came back in, WITH a deputy sheriff, and told me in no uncertain terms that he was the final word in my life and that I would go where he sent me and whether I wanted to go voluntarily or in a straight jacket was up to me.
I went volentarily. I really don’t want to go into what happened to me there. It was a county run substance abuse facility complete with court order crack and meth addicts, and leave it at that. However what happened to me at the first and second hospital has left me terrified to leave my house, and made me very untrusting of the medical profession. I am dodging calls from my family doctor whom I am sure is just calling to check on me since finding out about what happened.
I have the guilt of hurting my husband. He’s a good father and person but he makes me want to ring his neck and I cant get him to understand that there is no going back from that.
I have the guilt of losing my job and my kids have had to sacrifice. They have holes in their clothes that have to be mended instead of replaced, I have no extra money to take my little girl anywhere and had to stop paying my boys their allowance.
I have guilt that I cant take care of my parents they way I use to.
Though I am seeing a psychiatrist he doesn’t seem to be hearing me and there is not another one that takes my insurance within 100 miles from here.
I am sorry if my story seems jumbled and out of order, I type as my brain thinks. Its not that I don’t know what to do anymore, its that I know there is nothing to do. I want to die, the person that is suppose to help me doesn’t hear me and I am just to frightened to leave the house and go to work. I have been trying to find work but our county is so directly effected by the chemical plant that when they started laying off, it effected every business. But even if I do find work I don’t know if I can handle it. That makes me feel like a bad mother and makes me want to die more. I know I do not have the tools to fix it and neither does anyone else. I take my meds but they don’t help because I have REAL problems and only a LARGE amount of pills are going to fix them.