ECT isn’t as barbaric as you think

Since ECT has been controversial in the past, I thought I would write about it as a possible solution to severe Bipolar symptoms. I want people to know that it’s not as barbaric as you may have heard. 

To begin, I’ll have to give some history about my condition. I was diagnosed in 2008 with Bipolar I with psychotic features. It was a huge struggle to manage this disorder and I wasn’t able to get my life together until 2012 when I finally found a medication and health plan that worked. I was stable on the same medication for six years with few episodes. I was able to work a full-time job and live a fairly normal life. Unfortunately, there came a time recently that I had to change my medication for health reasons and everything snowballed. I relapsed which led to mania with psychosis. 

I thought I was possessed. I didn’t fully understand what was going on besides the fact that this wasn’t me and that I had tried everything to get back to me. Medication, sleep, writing, going back on the medication that had once worked, and anxiety medication. Nothing helped and I had to take time off of work because my symptoms were so severe. I felt like ECT was an option I had to pursue to get my life back.

This is my experience of ECT.

The first step was to meet with a psychiatrist to make sure this was the right option for me. I talked to him and he agreed that this would be the best course of action. The next step was to get an electrocardiogram and blood work to make sure I was healthy enough to undergo ECT. All those tests came back normal and I was finally able to set up an appointment for ECT.

On the day of the appointment, I wasn’t allowed to use lotion, eat or drink anything, or chew gum. They treat ECT much like going in for surgery because they put you under. My mom drove me to the hospital because you’re not allowed to drive for 24 hours after the treatment. We got to the hospital and checked into the outpatient surgery center. They called me back right away and checked my weight, height, and vitals. They confirmed my medical history and medications then they put in an IV. The doctor performing the ECT came in not too long after and explained the whole process. All of the hospital staff was very friendly and made sure I knew everything that was going on. 

They took me back and put me to sleep. I woke up a half an hour later in the recovery room. I had a headache, nausea, and my legs hurt. They made sure I was awake then my mom took me home. I couldn’t eat anything right away because of the nausea but my fear, paranoia, and anxiety had lessened significantly. I already felt better than I had in months. The headache and nausea lasted until the next day and then it went away. I continued to go in for ECT until I felt functional again. That took about 4 more treatments. After that, I felt better enough to go back to work. Between then and now (which has been approximately 3 months), I’ve had 3 more treatments just to maintain my functionality. I’m now just taking one Bipolar medication and an occasional anxiety pill as my anxiety has greatly minimized. The time between ECT treatments has become longer and one day, I won’t have to have them at all. Some people talk about memory loss but I didn’t really notice too much of that. I still have a good memory and remember my childhood as well as important events. 

ECT was a life saver for me. It was definitely a tough decision to make but I’m glad I did. ECT isn’t for everyone so make sure that you make an informed decision. 

Tough Times

I had been stable for so long, I never thought I would relapse. Sure, I changed medication because it was causing health issues but I never thought I would ever relapse again. Sure, I had some minor episodes especially after my sister died but I was able to get through those. Unfortunately, even though I knew it was a possibility and even wrote about it, I was not prepared for the Bipolar storm that ensued.

I had some small episodes starting in August 2016 when my son was diagnosed with scfe (slipped capital femoral epiphysis) and had to have surgery. I got depressed but didn’t realize it because I kept myself so busy trying to help him recover while balancing my three jobs. I was burning the candle at both ends. In December 2016, I was admitted to the hospital with heart palpitations which I think was caused from all the stress I was under. It was then I decided to find another medication since the medication I was on causes heart problems and my sister passed away at 39 from heart issues. I also thought the current medication I was on might be causing our fertility issues.

The search for a new medication was put into motion and I found one and changed medications In February 2017. This is when my complete relapse started. I started taking on more which for me is mania. I started tutoring 4 more families because I became obsessed with paying off my credit cards. The mania got even worse when Will had to go in for another surgery. The mania was good until March when I started thinking everyone was talking about me and making fun of me. I had a hard time teaching at the gym because my social anxiety on the stage made my legs shake and it just wasn’t fun anymore. I mentioned this to a gym member and the lead Pump instructor took my class away. I was devastated and stopped going to the gym. I channeled this into putting more energy in at teaching my second grade class. I quit my tutoring jobs in April because I was feeling very overwhelmed with everything. I made it through the school year just dealing with mania even though I didn’t realize I was having mania episodes.

It became really bad in May. I should have realized it when I went to my friend’s birthday party and had to leave after fifteen minutes.  I went to the doctor multiple times over the summer but they were hopeful that my medication would start working and thought adding some anxiety medication would help.  Brian and I even went to another doctor for a second opinion and were met with the same kind of thinking. I barely made it through summer school and had to be ready for the next school year because I was teaching a new grade. This caused severe anxiety as I had never taught third grade before and the unknown made my mania and anxiety worse. I thought everyone was talking maliciously about me and I stopped trusting people. I kept to myself and put all my effort into being the best third grade teacher I could be. My thinking was people would stop talking bad about me if I devoted all my time to teaching my third graders.

I pushed myself everyday even though I knew something was wrong and I didn’t know what to do. I called my mom every day, sometimes twice a day, just to get through. She was very patient and I knew she wanted to help but didn’t know how. I had been self-harming at home since May just to fight the racing thoughts that kept swirling in my head. I wanted the thoughts to go away but didn’t know how. I felt like I was doing all the right things because I was taking my medication as prescribed and getting enough sleep every night. All the things you’re supposed to do with an illness like mine. I wish I would have just known to commit myself but I was so far gone that I couldn’t think clearly enough to take myself.

In September, the idea to look into ECT popped into my head. I really believe God guided me in this because I had only heard of it once (years ago) and I had been praying for some help every day for months. I set up the appointment but they didn’t have any openings until the end of October. I had to suffer with all of this torment until then. At the end of September, I had to take family leave from work because the episodes had become so severe. I stayed at home and watched television because my social anxiety was so horrendous that I couldn’t leave my house. So now it was just a waiting game for my ECT appointment with lots of prayers that it would help me get back to myself.

I had my first ECT treatment at the end of October and it immediately helped. I started feeling normal again and was able to go back to work at the beginning of November. I made only a few bad decisions while I was sick which I think in a positive light because it could have been so much worse. I’ve had to rebuild my life again and there are many obstacles I still have to face because of all this but I’m happy to have my life back.

You never know how thankful you are for the life you’re living until it’s gone. I wasn’t able to enjoy life. I wasn’t able to enjoy spending time with my husband and son. I wasn’t able to enjoy time with my friends. I wasn’t able to leave the house without having an anxiety attack. I am so thankful to be healthy again because I can enjoy life and not be afraid to leave my house. I can go to my son’s basketball games and concerts without being afraid and having an anxiety or panic attack. I can live a relatively normal life again and be happy. I’ve learned that life is really about being thankful for the people and times you have in your life. Treasure them because you don’t know if one day it will all disappear.

Many blessings to all of you in 2018. Never forget to be thankful for what you have.

Peace,

Artesia

Switching Medication February 17th- February 20th

The past four days have been the best yet. I have finally gotten over this cold, my irritability has minimized, and the withdrawal symptoms have subsided. I'm finding balance once again. I have noticed some changes especially with my energy level. I no longer wake up feeling exhausted. I don't miss pulling myself out of what I consider quicksand just to get through my morning and sometimes my entire day. Since I no longer have to worry about struggling to wake up in the morning, I can wake up early and exercise plus I even have time to make myself look presentable. Instead of taking a shower the night before, I have time to take a shower in the morning and blow dry my hair.
However, I do have to fight the nausea every morning which is one of the side effects of the new medication. I know it's the new medication because less than ten minutes after I take it and for the next hour or so after, I have to fight to keep down the food I have to take with it.
So far I have had no Bipolar symptoms. This is truly a blessing.
I have a doctor's appointment on Wednesday which I think will go very well. I'm looking forward to sharing with her all the positive changes.

Switching medication continued

February 8th - 16th
The first part of this week, I battled cold symptoms while going to work, and dealing with side effects  from the new medication and withdrawals from the old medication.
Ironically some of the withdrawals from Seroquel include nausea, headache, anxiety, excessive crying, nervousness, insomnia, and depression. So far I've had all of them except for excessive crying. I've come close to crying a few times but stopped myself. This is a good sign because I'm not a crier. You know something is seriously wrong when I start crying.
The second half of this week, my insomnia went away which is good because sleep is so very important with a mental illness. However, I have had to deal with the rest of them which has been magnified with the upheaval in my life right now.
That upheaval is this:
Next year, I have been told I have to teach a whole new grade level. This is hard for me because I hate change. I have taught 2nd grade my entire teaching career and I'm terrified. Also, I finally feel like I'm a really strong teacher in 2nd grade and now it's being taken away from me.
Too many things are happening all at once and it's been extremely difficult for me, Here is what it is for me all laid out:
I am working every day (Sunday - Sunday) now to try to pay off repairs for my cars, pay my medical bills, and take care of my household.  I am trying to get pregnant. I am monitoring all potential symptoms so that I don't relapse. I am in constant contact with my doctor. I am trying to do the best job I can at teaching while trying to handle work stress that comes from other people plus students that I'm trying to help. I'm dealing with family issues and trying to continue to be a good mom. I'm trying to stay on top of housework. This is all from a person who is considered disabled.
Through it all, I am attempting to stay positive. If it weren't for some very supportive people in my life, I would crash and burn.

The Joys and Fears of Switching Medications

January 17^th, 2017

It’s here; it’s finally here. The day I muster up the courage to request a medication change. It has taken a year of building up to. A year of research. A year of frustrations and mounting fear but I’m finally here in the dr.’s office asking to change my medication.

After close to four years of being on the same medication for Bipolar, I have finally decided the side effects far outweigh the benefits. When I first went on this medication, I knew that it caused weight gain and metabolic changes. I really thought I could handle those. As someone’s whose home away from home is the gym, I really thought I wouldn’t gain any weight. Almost four years later, I’m up 50lbs and counting. Over the past few years, I’ve deprived myself in order to prevent weight gain; even maintaining would make me happy but no one prepared me for the reality of it. My case manager and doctor told me that I’m actually on the low end of weight gain for people taking this medication as some people gain at least 100lbs within the first two years. But the weight gain wasn’t a deal breaker for me. I could handle it; for the most part. One of the deal breakers for me was going into the hospital with heart arrhythmia. One of the side effects of the medication I am on is sudden death from arrhythmia. Since heart problems already run in my family (my sister died of an aortic rupture), I was terrified that something like that would happen to me as well. Another deal breaker was potential infertility. The medication I was on had the ability to cause infertility even though it wasn’t very common. As my husband and I have been trying to conceive for a year and a half now, I thought that maybe switching meds may help us conceive.

So here I am. My doctor agrees that a change in medication would be the best course of action. She puts me on a medication that has less chance of the side effects I’m fearful of and the bonus is that it’s even safer for pregnancy than the previous medication I was taking.

January 24^th - January 31^st

This past week, the change in medication included titrating the meds so I have less chance of relapse. Unfortunately, this is also the week I have to take all those lovely hormones to stimulate ovulation to assure pregnancy hopefully in the coming months. I have felt my balance all out of whack this week between fighting nausea and exhaustion from the new med plus the nausea and irritability I’m sure is from the hormones. The good news is that I haven’t had any Bipolar symptoms. This is a blessing.

The steps that I have had to take to prepare for a change in medication is pretty extensive. Talking to my husband about potential symptoms. Telling him what to look for and when to commit me (not that this will happen but it is a precaution those with mental illness have to take). Talking to trusted friends about possible changes in behavior. Being super aware of every change in emotion and evaluating those emotions as reasonable or not reasonable. It’s not easy to change medication and it’s extremely scary especially if you have been on a medication that has changed your personality completely. It’s scary losing yourself and when you finally find yourself again, having to face the potential of losing yourself once more. You wouldn’t understand if you’ve never had a mental illness but I will try to explain: Imagine this, you are you and you know who you are. Your life is then flipped upside down because of a mental illness. In this new world, you’re not sure what is reality and what is not. You do things out of character. You’re not sure if the person you knew you were is still the person you are. It’s like you’re watching someone else live your life and you can’t do anything to change it. Scary!

The potential of living through that again is absolutely terrifying and I wouldn’t do it unless it was absolutely necessary.

February 1^st - February 8^th

Another week where I’ve had to battle nausea and exhaustion on top of trying to fight the common cold. I’m more irritable than usual and wonder if this is a Bipolar symptom or just an effect from being sick and overworked. I really think it’s the latter. I don’t get very much downtime nowadays and I only have time to watch TV for about 2-3 hours a week; if I’m lucky. About an hour a week spending time watching Will’s shows and an hour or two watching with my husband on our “date nights”. I don't have the time or mental capacity to enjoy reading because I'm so exhausted by the end of the day. Reading for fun is what I miss the most. My house is a wreck (in my eyes) and even though I try to stay on top of it, almost all my hours on the weekends are now devoted to work or spending time with Will. I haven’t been sleeping well at night. Instead of having a hard time waking up in the morning, I have a hard time staying asleep. 2am has become my new wakeup time. Changes at work are stressing me out but I’m holding my own. It helps when you have a great support system like I do. Once I am over this cold and adjusted to the idea of change at work, I think I’ll be ok. Overall, I think things are going well despite trying to handle all the new changes and challenges with my physical health and workload.

To Be Continued…

The Day That Changed My Path Forever

When I was thirteen sitting next to a hospital bed telling my recently deceased father my last goodbyes, I really didn't think my life could get any worse. I struggled through the rest of my teen years and escaped to college. Those next four years were everything I hoped for: a good job, the ability to go to a university, and a great partner. The year after that brought an awesome house, an amazing son, and my new job of stay at home mom. If someone at that time had told me that my entire life would change in the matter of seconds, I would laugh at them. But the simple fact is that life can change in a matter of seconds and I found out the hard way on February 22nd, 2007…

I woke up struggling to get out of bed. An early riser after I had my son but now I was very sluggish due to my pregnancy. Must be the hormones I thought as I walked to my son's room to see if he was awake. He is, which fit in perfectly with my plans for that day. I fixed breakfast while packing little snacks and activities in his diaper bag. He just turned two and I wasn't sure if the rodeo parade we were going to would capture his attention the whole time. I decided to take him this year because I heard good things about it and I loved sharing new experiences with him. Everything had worked out for us to go. I didn't have to watch the little boy who came over three times a week, my house was clean, and I had no other things going on. But, I didn't feel well. I had morning sickness and I was really tired. I thought about staying home once again but I didn't want to deprive my son of an outing so I finished packing our things and got him dressed. We headed out the door unaware that our lives would change forever.

I drove around the area the parade was supposed to run so we could find the perfect spot. I decided the best spot was about five hundred feet from the stoplight. Hardly anyone was setting up yet so I was glad we had the choice of where to sit. I parked my Expedition and pulled out my son’s Red Flyer, loaded him in, and headed for our spot. We sat right where the street met the dirt. There were no barriers. I sipped on decaf coffee as we anticipated what we would see at the rodeo parade. The parade started a little after 9am and my son was excited about all the sights including the horses. Partway through, tragedy struck right in front of us. I saw little Brielle trampled by a team of horses. I heard screams and crying. I was so numb I didn't know how to react, I was in shock. I didn't leave right away because I was praying that she would survive. I wanted to see that she was ok. They took her in an ambulance and I just sat there as the parade continued. I came partially out of the shock and left the parade. I was just praying she survived.

I came home, put my son to bed for a nap, and lay on the couch. I had talked to my husband on the way and he had that said she had died. I was in pain. I cried and cried until my son woke up but still I was devastated. It was extremely tough to deal with all the emotions that I felt. I powered through as best as I could but was haunted by flashbacks and nightmares.

Exactly a week after the tragedy I was riding my bike with my son and husband. I didn't feel well while riding so we turned back sooner than normal. I went to the bathroom when I came home and realized that I had started bleeding.

We went to the hospital where they sent us home to wait. I went to my ob/gyn the next day where she said that it could or could not happen. I went home once again to wait until Monday. Over the weekend I was in a lot of pain and knew there really was something wrong. My sister drove me to the doctor Monday morning. Two doctors told me the baby was gone. I have never felt so much pain in my life, such raw emotion. My heart was no longer in my body. It was wrenched out of my chest and stomped on the ground until there was nothing left. I thought I had been through so much in my life and here was one of the worst things; it's one of the most horrendous feelings anyone could ever have. I cried and then tried to compose myself enough to leave the doctor's office. My sister was waiting with my son in the waiting room. I cried harder as I passed that room; the room with all the pregnant women and newborn babies.

My sister drove my son to my mother in law's house as I screamed and cried the whole ride. My son was crying too and I couldn't console him because I couldn't even console myself. Yet I was the reason he was crying. He didn't understand and I couldn't explain it to him if I tried. The little boy who told me he wanted a sister and was so excited that I was pregnant.

My sister drove me to my husband's work and we drove back to pick up my son, dropping off my sister on the way. I had calmed down some since and we decided to get a tree from Home Depot to plant in honor of the baby. Tragedy struck once more that night. As my husband and his brother made room for the tree in the backyard with a pick-up truck, they ran over our dog, Tiny, who had gotten out of the side yard. When my husband came in with the news holding the dog in his arms, I lost it. I pounded my fists against the tile, screamed, and ran out of the house full speed. I ran until I started hurting and found a ditch to curl up in. I felt hopeless, my insides felt like they had been ground into dust and the rest of me was just an empty shell, a black hole, a void. I felt like I had nothing left.

Over the next few weeks, I tried to talk to people about my pain but people tend to avoid you like the plague when something like this happens. Or they avoid the topic completely because they only want to hear happy things or they tell you that you can always have more kids. I wanted to yell, kick, and scream. I wanted to throw a temper-tantrum because they had no idea what I was going through and yet they said that we could always have more kids. No one would say that to someone who had just lost their 2 year old or 8 year old; why the difference? I did everything I could to get past this pain including getting a tattoo which I equated as the same as giving birth: pain, time, blood, and a constant reminder etched on my body.

These tragedies triggered the start of a new journey, one with Bipolar Disorder. I was diagnosed with this disorder not too long after these events. I had lost so much already but I would have to say that losing reality was one of the hardest things for me to overcome. This one day in 2007 started a chain of events that would cause my Bipolar Disorder and change my entire path in life. I’m happy to say that even if it was an extremely difficult journey, it has helped me become a stronger person. It’s often a daily battle with my mind but one that I feel proud of winning every single day.

Learning to overcome all of my losses and live with Bipolar Disorder has helped me assist others in their own journeys and has helped me save more than one life by sharing my own story. It has helped me connect with others on a deeper level. It has made me humble. It has helped me appreciate the good times more and has helped me value the time spent with the people I love. These experiences have changed me in a way I could never go back to the way I was but I feel like I am the person I was always supposed to be; flaws, scars, and all.

When Giving 110% is Too Much: Living 2017 for Self-Care

This past year, I stressed myself out way past my limit time and again. All of the goals I set at the beginning of 2016 led me to one of the toughest years of my life and left me mentally, physically, and emotionally burnt out.

One goal was to be an amazing wife and mother. Of course, in my mind, this would include self-sacrificing. As always, I put 110% effort into this. Ultimately this equated to all their needs coming before mine. All my emotions, needs, and desires were put on the back burner. This was not healthy as all of that built up into a huge emotional storm that I had to let out a few times. Honestly on one occasion it was just screaming nonstop for a few minutes (it actually helped). 

Another goal was to lose weight. Three years ago, I started tracking my weight and recording everything I ate when I was put on medication that caused metabolic changes and weight gain. For 3 years, I put 110% in eating healthy and exercising regularly. I even became a fitness instructor in 2014. I became so obsessed with losing weight this year that I deprived myself of almost every food group. I cut down to just eating protein, fruits, and vegetables (nothing more, nothing less). I still gained 10 pounds this year. That’s a total of 50 pounds gained since I started taking this medication. I joke that I’m the healthiest fat person and my bloodwork attests to that. 

The next goal was to get pregnant. My husband is the only child so we are under “a little” extra pressure to get pregnant. I alsoworry about getting pregnant soon because after 35 you become high risk. Unfortunately with my disorder, I’m already considered high risk. So again I put 110% into getting pregnant. Fertility pills, ovulation predictors, and a fertility app were purchased. Every month that came around with no pregnancy made me do more research, buy more fertility products, and then become depressed when nothing was working. It was a horrible,vicious cycle.

Yet another goal was to pay off credit cards that I racked up when paying for my son’s private school tuition a couple of years ago. Again, I threw 110% effort into that. I picked up additional tutoring jobs. I put all my extra money into paying off those cards. I rarely went out and did anything fun unless it was free or at the gym. I didn’t go out to eat and I wouldn’t buy anything for myself unless it was absolutely and desperatelyneeded. I didn’t put anything on credit except for emergencies. Even after depriving myself by not spending much money on myself, I was unable to pay everything off by the end of the year like I wanted. Unfortunately, unforeseen expenses crept up on me multiple times so I just about broke even this past year. So absolutely frustrating.

What I have taken from 2016 is that I need to make self-care a priority. I put so much effort into everything else, I almost lost myself. This year, I am taking a step back. My plan is to take care of myself by not obsessing or stressing about goals but enjoying each and every moment of life I have left. This means still eating healthy and exercising but not stressing about the weight I gain or lose. This means taking steps with my doctor and husband to solve the fertility issue but not obsessing and stressing over it. This means putting extra money towards paying off credit card bills but not excessively depriving myself of everything. I want to live a happy, fulfilled life and I can’t do that without taking care of myself first. In the end, by taking better care of myself, I can become a better wife, mother, friend, teacher, tutor, and mental health advocate.