Hospitalization 1 and Diagnosis

I will never forget January 1, 2001. It marked the start of a drastic change in my life. Two weeks filled with scary memories of my first manic episode, hospitalization and diagnosis. Although I will never forget the experience and horrors, I too am grateful for the awakening. All of the traumas that were buried in my subconscious from birth, I imagine, to the previous day were unfolding before my eyes. Secrets have a way of coming out. Sometimes at very inopportune times.

After a full day of excessive drug use, I awoke in a delusional state. A euphoria that was amazing. I was scheduled to manage a retail store where I was currently employed at the time. I was hungover and quite out of my head. I ended up having to leave early and headed over to my families home to rest and recover. When I woke from a long nap I went out to watch television with my brother. Upon watching a commercial I began grandiose thoughts that all of the songs that were featured on a CD they were promoting from the 70's were about my life. I shared some of my thoughts with my sibling, who looked at me like he had seen a ghost. See, my mother had gone through a manic episode herself that my brother had witnessed first hand. He nearly immediately knew what was happening. I think I stayed at their home for until my mother returned.

She had been gone out of the country to visit family. When she came up to the entry way I ran to her and hugged her saying, "mom, I'm so sorry what they did to you." Talking about her hospitalization. She didn't understand why I would say such a thing until my sibling told her what had been happening. She immediately started calling around looking for places that she could take me for help. I went along with wherever she said we were going and talked to tons of people who interviewed me at several different places. At the emergency they prescribed what my mother called "a chill pill" and sent me back home with her. Saying it was a reaction to the drugs I had taken New Years eve. Continued manic behavior scared my mom enough that she took me in for a 5150. A 72 hour hold in the psych ward. I remember most of the experience there. I was suffering a high that included insomnia. Also delusional thoughts. Although the nurses on the ward were fairly decent towards me, the doctors were rude and their interrogations were demeaning. They diagnosed me bipolar type 2 and gave me a slough of pills to start taking. I began going to SBADMHC to see a pdoc, therapist and case worker. They helped me get SSDI and insurance in order for me to continue to be monitored.