Leonie’s journey with Bipolar

It’s been several days since the last post was published on Kate’s life with Bipolar Disorder. Leonie has the same diagnosis and the other day she spent some time telling me of her experiences. Leonie’s story is one of suffering and sadness. And it is also one of strength, perseverance and triumph. She has taken her illness and the darkness it produced, and has found a way to use a variety of strategies and to create the light of her life. As always, if reading Leonie’s story triggers your own illness, please speak with your mental health professional or call Lifeline on 13 1114.

Leonie was first diagnosed with depression in 2003 and was prescribed an antidepressant. This led to a psychotic manic episode, which was followed by a period in hospital a month or two later. Even though she was heavily sedated and experiencing delusions, she clearly remembers the moment she left the doctor’s office after hearing him say the phrase “it seems likely you have bipolar”.

When she shared the diagnosis with a close friend from her early university days, she was told, “hindsight is 20/20”. Other friends and family agreed. Leonie had been living with bipolar since she was a teenager. Fast forward to 2003 and much of her life had masked the illness.

Leonie gave birth to a son in 1998 and a daughter in 2001. In September 2001, when planes hit the World Trade Centre in New York on 9/11, her daughter was two months old. Leonie remembers her prevailing and repetitive thought was, “how could I have brought my baby into such a brutal world?” Her general practitioner realises now that she was living with post natal depression at the time. In fact, she lived with it following the birth of both children.

With friends living in the state next to the World Trade Centre, and a 2 month old baby, 9/11 hit Leonie hard. Her existing depression led to her spiraling further into the illness.

Not quite that simple, Leonie’s transformation has taken many years

She returned to work part-time at the beginning of 2002 and found it very stressful. She ended up on indefinite long service leave. She felt unsupported, confused and lost.

Then, in January 2003, when her daughter was 18 months old, she looked up to the air conditioning duct in her house to see flames. She got herself and the children out and by the time the fire brigade arrived smoke was billowing from every orifice of the house. While most of the damage was confined to the roof cavity, the rug where the children were sitting when the flames were first seen was burnt by a molten air conditioning vent that had fallen. Leonie became fearful of staying in the house, and also fearful of leaving it at the same time. How much turmoil and confusion she must have been feeling at that time!

While Leonie was taking a shower one day in June 2003 she distinctly remembers not being able to work out why she was in there or knowing what to do next. She couldn’t work out how to turn off the water or grab a towel. She managed to call a friend, who gave her instructions to “hang up, don’t move and pick up the phone when it rings”, after promising to help. Together they dressed and breakfasted the children and took them to day care. They made a doctor’s appointment to see her General Practitioner and went with her friend’s support a couple of days later. Leonie was diagnosed with depression and prescribed Zoloft, an antidepressant. Within a month Leonie experienced psychosis, which is apparently a common result when that type of antidepressant is prescribed to someone with bipolar.

The 5 years between 2003 and 2008 were very bleak for Leonie. She spent most of the time severely depressed, with a few severe manic episodes. Christmas 2008 was very bleak. A few months earlier Leonie experienced a manic episode involving some friends, which affected their friendship in a negative way. Whilst attending the Christmas assembly at her children’s school she experienced a full-blown panic attack. She felt like the worst mother in the world and completely demoralised.

Leonie began thinking about suicide as an option so her family would no longer have to feel the shame she felt she brought on them. She felt they would be better off without her. Even though her husband and mother knew she was low, she hid the extent of it from them.

By this time her file at her mental health centre was an inch thick. Between 2003 and January 2009 she felt like the mental health professionals came through a revolving door.

Bottom: 2008, Top: 2013

The day that produced the turning point came when she saw one specific psychiatrist in that very long line of professionals. She walked in the door at her lowest ever point and was asked to tell her story yet again. The thought of rehashing all the pain and suffering was unbearable. Two minutes in, the psych was on the phone asking for a bed in the closest inpatient unit.

Leonie was in hospital for a month so that her new doctor could observe her closely as he fine tuned her medication. She felt lucky that she had finally found the right fit with a mental health professional. He was intuitive and understood her well.

She was out of hospital another month before another manic episode hit as a result of coming out of such a low. Bordering on psychotic again, she ended up in the emergency room with police hovering for most of the day while waiting on a bed in the inpatient unit. For another month, her doctor once again monitored her closely as he readjusted her medications. Leonie remains on these same medications to this day.

Career wise, traveling back in time briefly, in about 2005/6, Leonie was working 2 days a week as a teacher. She struggled because she was so depressed. Despite her then psychologist strongly suggesting that she submit a medical retirement, she resisted. The thought broke her heart. In a job that she had previously loved, she felt that she was unfit to do that work forever. But she couldn’t bring herself to submit the paperwork.

Leonie’s doctor discharged her from hospital at the end of May 2008. She experienced one minor depressive episode which lasted approximately a week. At that point she participated in her second, 10-week mindfulness course. By October of that same year she was once again doing 2-3 days of casual teaching each week. She chose her schools carefully as she made these tentative steps, but felt like she had her life back.

The entire year of 2009 saw her regularly working 3-5 days per week (at various schools). In the final term one school invited her to work 3 days a week for the rest of the year. In consultation with her team of professionals and close family, by October she decided to go back to full-time work.

At the beginning of 2010 she began her new job, a position she retains today. At first she didn’t tell anyone at her work about her illness due to feelings of shame and fear of judgement. But after she felt she had proven her wellness, she received incredible support from her boss.

Other than one minor and short-live depressive episode in 2012, which included anxiety attacks, she has been free of mood swings. While she doesn’t consider herself “cured”, and she will be on medications for the rest of her life, her condition is now successfully being managed. She utilises a team of professionals.

The joy after conquering a long-held fear of going down a huge water slide

Psychiatrist, Psychologist, General Practitioner. She combines medications with regular mindfulness training and sessions with her psychologist. She has made significant changes to her lifestyle by exercising and eating healthily. She now gets adequate sleep after discovering that the lack of it contributed to her manic episodes.

Leonie also calls on the support of close family, colleagues and friends. She feels blessed to be a part of a wonderful circle of social support. She now knows, thanks to this amazing support, that she no longer needs to keep the secret and shame.

Leonie feels that the key to beginning her path to wellness was to find that one professional that she could really connect with.

Christmas 2013 and Leonie’s new way of being

My Journey with Anxiety

As promised, here is Sam’s journey with anxiety. She has one cute cat that clearly loves cleaning!

Thanks Neanderthal man!

Well thank you Neanderthal man, for the very unhelpful ‘fight-or-flight’ response that triggers my anxiety constantly!  The split-second response you developed to help you either fight or flee from some man-eating predator, by pumping your body full of adrenalin, is often not a very helpful  response to the challenges of modern life (although if a sabre-tooth tiger sneaks up on me, I’ll probably be very grateful for it!).

My earliest memory of feeling anxiety is when I was about three and not wanting to be separated from my mum.  My mum was my nurturer, she kept me alive and safe.  Did I feel okay about being dropped off at kindy or with dodgy relatives … umm … NO!!  Cue separation anxiety!!

As a child I began to develop the traits of perfectionism … I tried very hard to do my best and make people happy.  Conflict within my family made me very nervous … my heart would race, whilst my mind searched for a solution as to what I should do to ‘fix’ things.  Often I would feel so ill-equipped and overwhelmed I did and said nothing.

In primary school, as we lined up to take our turn at high jump, I began to seriously freak out, based on the fact my anxiety constantly reminded me that I was hopeless at most things, especially sport and that everyone would probably laugh at me.  “I can’t do this!!”  I thought.  I asked to go to the toilet, where I stayed for a good 10 minutes hatching a plan.  I went back to the teacher and told her that I’d just been sick.  The school called my mum who came and picked me up.  Crisis averted!  Anxiety: one, conquering my fears: zero

In high school, I worried excessively.  I worried about how I looked, how I walked, how I dressed, how I did academically, what people thought of me.  By the end of high school I had developed a secret eating disorder that I told no one about.  The relationship between my anxiety and self-esteem, my mind and body, my desire for perfection and my overwhelming fear of stepping outside my comfort zone was rock-solid.  My anxiety led me to give away my power to those who seemed more self-assured and this often left me vulnerable to being hurt or treated badly.

In my twenties I suffered several, debilitating panic attacks as well as a few unique phobias (please do not mention the word ‘button’ to me, it makes me feel sick and I had trouble just typing it!!).  I put myself under an enormous amount of pressure and was extremely judgemental of myself: how I looked, how I performed at school, work, university.  I can add in social phobia too – not a big fan of parties and meeting new people.  Of course I married someone who is extremely social and extroverted, I think deep down I knew he would be someone who could gently challenge me out of my comfort zone.

In my thirties I began to learn more about the link between mental and physical health.  I saw counsellors and indeed trained as a counsellor, as I was very motivated to help other people.  It turns out there are some underlying medical reasons that contribute to my anxious state, so taking appropriate supplements and undergoing regular medical assessment is one way of managing my anxiety.

Place your worries in here

These worry stones will hold all your worries for you.

Just as important are the emotional and psychological strategies I use.  I have learnt from experience how to identify my increasing anxiety.  I experience tightness in my chest, start feeling a bit hyper and confused and my mind starts racing with problems, solutions and a lot of negative self-talk.  In these moments I have learned that I can calm myself down by:

1. Recognising that my anxiety is starting to increase
2. Taking a time out to focus on what I need right now in the present moment
3. Slowing down my breathing (pretend I am deeply inhaling the scent of a flower and then blowing out a candle on a birthday cake, repeat this at least 3 times)
4. Analysing my thinking & challenging my irrational thoughts:  how likely is it really that the plane will crash or my pants will fall down mid speech?

I also regularly practise gratitude.  I have a very loving family and a roof over my head.  My health is quite good.  Being grateful for what I have helps me feel calmer and less critical of myself.  Anxiety is sometimes seen as the difference between who you are and who you think you should be.  I am just me and I am very lucky to be here.  All of us are perfectly imperfect and we need to take back our power by acknowledging that we have just as much right to be here and be happy as the next person.

I realise now that anxiety is a normal part of being human.  That it is often driven by the human desire for survival which is, in other words, the fear of dying, especially before one has led a long, rich and fulfilling life.  It is the fear of pain and of those who you love suffering in any way.  However, fearing mortality doesn’t keep us alive any longer; it merely prevents us from fully enjoying life while we are here.

So I accept and appreciate my anxiety for helping me to be aware and alert and to stay safe, for warning me when there might be a sabre-tooth tiger lurking outside the cave.  But I am also thankful that with time I have learnt to take a breath and not jump to conclusions and that when I start panicking I can pause before choosing how to react.  Take some calming breaths and assess the situation – that sabre-tooth tiger shadow might be cast by a little kitten that just needs a cuddle.

Cleanliness loving cat or lonely saber-toothed tiger?

Bio

My name is Sam and I am a 39-year-old mum of two and a counsellor.  I support carers who care for a loved one with a mental illness or developmental disorder.  I have a special interest in supporting parents and carers of children with autism and Aspergers.  I am also experienced in counselling and supporting clients who have suffered sexual assault, complex trauma, PTSD, grief, depression and anxiety.