LOVE & HOPE

I keep feeling like I'm supposed to write this post. I'm not sure why. Maybe I need more healing than I'll willingly accept and writing it all down will help. Maybe it will help someone out there to not be ashamed of whatever they have or are going through, whatever it may be. I don't know. But when I get this feeling that I need to share part of my story I just can't ignore it. It is so hard to write most of these things as it may cause some to judge me as 'crazy' or 'unstable', but in the end I know that the people who truly love me, love me no matter what I'm going through or what is a part of me, Mental Illness and all. Please bare with me in my poor grammar ;)

Last December was one of the hardest times in my life thus far. Backing up... Life was finally feeling great. I had a loving husband and kids who were enjoying life along side me. We lived in a (small but wonderful) home that we loved and will always cherish the time we lived there. I was breaking out of my shell, telling my story more to try and help other people. I was eating healthy again. Feeling great about myself inside and out. All were huge accomplishments for me.
Then early November things started to change. I was getting depressed more often than 'normal' than I had in the few months beforehand. I wasn't enjoying life anymore. AT. ALL. I was struggling to find a reason for anything. "Why try anymore?" "Why put on a happy face when I'm dying inside?" were just some of the thoughts I had on a daily basis. They continued to get worse.
Then in early December it all exploded. My whole world was turned upside down. I wasn't me. I had never been this way. I was beginning to be paranoid about everything around me. I found mouse droppings in several places in our home day after day. I started hearing the mice in the ceiling in our bedroom at night. I started having these thoughts that the mice were everywhere in the walls. That one was going to run in front of me at any moment. I was completely consumed by the thoughts in my head about being scared of the mice. I have always had a very horrible phobia of mice, but this was different than ever before. They were taking over my mind and my life entirely. I couldn't go to bed unless Kodi was right there with me, holding me, comforting me. I couldn't go to the bathroom at night because I couldn't walk on the floor in fear of a mouse crawling over my feet. During the day I had to wear shoes at all times while in my home in fear of a mouse crawling on my feet. The time I was spending in my own home was quickly becoming less and less. I would find any excuse I could to go anywhere but my house. I went to a dear and amazingly loving and understanding friend's house almost every day. When I wasn't at her house I was at my Mom's house, the Library, wandering stores without even buying anything. I was literally anywhere but home until Kodi would get home from work. I could only (barely) handle being at home if Kodi was there. Most days Kodi would come home to me crying on my bed in fear of my mind and the shell of a person I was becoming. I was not the mother that I wish I could have been at this time. I tried the best I could to shelter the girls from what was really going on inside of me. When they would ask "Mommy, why are you so sad, why are you crying? I love you Mommy." I would tell them "Mommy is just sick right now. I'm trying to get better. Mommy loves you. Everything will be okay." This was one of the hardest things about it all. Watching my sweet little girls sad for me every day, wondering what they could do to make it better. Another hard part was watching Kodi fall apart with me, constantly asking what he could do to help me. Constantly feeling like he had no idea what to do.
Because of the extreme paranoia concerning the mice I was lucky if I got even 3-4 hours of sleep at night. One night, I couldn't get to sleep. I laid in bed for hours listening to uplifting music, conference talks, guided meditation. NOTHING would make the thoughts in my mind go away. I was crying and crying and crying and finally I just couldn't take it anymore. I called my Mom at what was probably 4 AM and asked in tears if I could please come to her house. I had to get away from my house. I felt as though I was literally going 'crazy'.
When I got to my Mom's house I was shaking and just a complete mess. After more crying and comforting hugs and prayer with my mom, I was finally able to fall asleep listening to music.
I woke up determined that I was not going to be like this forever. I immediately called UNI crisis services. They asked me several questions and determined that if I was willing it would be in my best interest to go to UNI and get an assessment. After the assessment they told me they would like to admit me if I was willing to get treatment for whatever was going on. I had been to UNI 2 other times and knew that out of anywhere in the whole world this was the best place I could and should be to get the help I so needed.
After meeting with several doctors and finally finding a good team of Doctors to help me, I felt a little comfort but was still struggling to be by myself. I was very grateful to have a (quiet) roommate to be in the same room with me at night. The first night after being admitted to a mental health facility is in my experience a blur. The next day I didn't remember where I was until I came out of my room and was greeted by the wonderful tech staff there. I immediately went to group therapy. I knew if I was going to get better I needed to throw myself into and take advantage of every group and help accessible while in the hospital.
The first few days there was no progress. It was mostly a lot of starting and adjusting meds to get me to a somewhat stable state of mind. After a few days of being on a very high dose of a very potent medication (along with a couple others) I was able to think a little more clearly. This medication definitely did what it was supposed to but I hope to never be on it again. Weight gain is one of the unfortunate side effects of this medication. In 2 weeks I gained 20 lbs.
Upon having a real visit with my team of doctors it was decided that I needed to undergo some testing to figure out what was really going on inside of me.
When they presented the test results to me I was shocked, scared, ashamed and feeling hopeless. They said I had and was coming out of psychosis. They also told me of a couple new mental illnesses I was likely to suffering from and would possibly forever because of this severe mental breakdown. More!? More!? How could I possibly lead any sort of a 'normal' life with MORE mental illnesses? I was already dealing with anxiety, depression, & Bipolar disorder. As they listed off BPD, PTSD & a couple others I was in a state of shock. I just sat there with no reaction. Not believing what I was hearing. Not accepting that this could be my new life possibly forever. How would I tell Kodi that he was going to be dealing with even more of a difficult life with an even more 'crazy' wife? How could I ever explain to anyone why I sometimes act the way I do? How could I explain that there was something else 'wrong' with me?
I started to shut down. I stopped going to group. I stopped eating. I stayed in my room most of the day except for the mandatory meetings with my Doctors. What was the point of trying to get 'better' when there would be no such thing as 'better'?
Then something happened. I know it sounds odd, but I made a couple of friends in the hospital. People that truly understood what I was going through. People that were showing signs of getting better. Little by little I was gaining more hope. At this point I had been in the hospital for a week. My doctors had to fight with my insurance to assure them that yes I REALLY did still need to be in the hospital, even though the insurance's policy usually only covered a 7 day stay. I was blessed with Doctors who won. I would be able to continue treatment.
I started going to group again. I threw myself into it all with the desire to get better and eventually go home to be with my family again.
After lots of hard work in group and personal therapy, many medication changes and adjustments my doctors told me they thought I was ready to go home. WAIT! WHAT!? NO!? I'm not ready. I can't survive in the real world yet. What will I do when I fall apart again?
I didn't realize until my therapist explained to me all of the tools I had with me now. All of the things I had learned while there that I could apply into my life just as I had while in the hospital. I COULD do this. I was scared beyond all reason, but I had hope that through continued outpatient therapy, support from family and friends, and most of all prayer and staying close to my Heavenly Father above that I could do this. I could eventually have a 'normal' life again.
After being in UNI for 2 weeks I was discharged into my family's care. I was to be surrounded by people at all times for support and help with the girls for the next few months. The first month I had lots of outside help. Then it slowly dwindled, but I still had some help :) I was in a very fragile state and constantly worried about some unknown, random thing setting me off and putting me into another breakdown.
I slowly became more stable and my meds were continually adjusted. By February I was feeling like I could handle life a day at a time, but that I needed to continue to limit my activities and responsibilities. That's when, boom, we decided it was time to sell our house. I just couldn't be in that house anymore. It was too hard to think about all that I had been through there. And Kodi had been itching to move for quite some time anyway and also felt it was time to move.
It was kind of what I needed, even though I didn't realize it until much later. I had something I had to devote a lot of time to. Something to get lost in and not think about the things that made life hard at the moment. I got the house ready to sell faster than I thought was possible. We listed the house and in less than a day we had a showing. We then had several more. After 2 days we had an offer. Then 2 days later another, better offer. In less than a week from the day we listed the house we had accepted an offer and started the process of finalizing things to officially sell our house.
We couldn't find anywhere to rent with such short notice. My parents so kindly offered to let us stay with them while our house was being built. Oh ya, I didn't mention that part... Through all of this we (Kodi ;) had also decided that we would not just buy another house but have one built. This was daunting to me. I was so scared. Change is not something I've ever dealt with very well. Along the whole process of it all I just kept trusting in Kodi's promptings that this was what we were supposed to do. In late March I was in a depressive state that I just could not get out of. More medication adjustments. More therapy sessions. Nothing was helping. Life just wasn't working. Kodi and my mom so lovingly agreed that it would be best for me to take a 'break' from life. I called my Grandmother who lives in the middle of nowhere in a tiny town in Maryland and asked if I could stay with her for a couple weeks. She said 'of course!' Those weeks were amazing. I was able to relax and slowly come out of my intense depressive state. I am so grateful to my amazing, loving Grandma and the time I spent with her and the memories that were made that I never had a chance to make with her as a child since she lived so far away. I had hope again. Things were still hard when I got home. Most days were a struggle. I had to take more medications than I wanted to in order to get through each day. But I wasn't so depressed that I couldn't function and take care of my children like I hadn't been able to before. Months passed, our house was finally done. Life was looking up. Life continued to get better and better. Still had hard days, but nothing like before.

So hear I am, almost a year after going into psychosis & being hospitalized. Life is not always what I wish it could be. But I have more good days than bad right now. I'll take it. That's a blessing to me. I remind myself every day of how blessed I am. I have an amazing, loving husband who stands by my side no matter what, through thick and thin. I have 3 beautiful daughters that I have the privilege of being their Mommy and getting so much love from them. I have friends and family members that love me and remind me all the time that it's all going to be ok. I have the church and Heavenly Father that are my rock and continue to give me hope. I have modern medicine by my side to help me manage my mental illnesses every day. I have a wonderful therapist that helps me continue to work through it all. I could list many more things that I am blessed with but I'll stop there since this post is already such a novel ;)

Am I posting this all in hopes that people will pity or feel bad for me? NO. Please don't feel bad for me. I am learning to be grateful for the trials I face. Each one makes me stronger. Each one gives me more empathy for others. Each one helps me to not be so quick to judge others and their shortcomings.
We don't know what others are really going through. We need to be loving and kind to all. We need to respect others. We need to stop judging others just because they are different than we are or because they don't understand our trials.
Really, we just need to have more and show more LOVE for ALL.

I realize this post is somewhat random and all over the place, but I hope that one day it might possibly, just maybe give hope to someone out there. I don't claim to understand other people's trials or claim to have it worse than anyone else. I wouldn't trade my trials for anyone else's. I don't think anyone would. But I hope this post has shown that even through hard trials it is possible to keep having hope and that just maybe things will get better :)