Trial and Error
During this process, in trying to find professional help, I was referred to a therapist through my church. For some reason I didn’t click with him, or didn’t want to see him, because I was not nice at all. This was not normal for me.
The next therapist I saw was a lady working out of her home simultaneously running a special need’s preschool. My son and daughter were going to their school. I don’t know if it was helping or not. She was doing hypnotherapy on me and all I remember is falling asleep. I was going to her for quite a while until she suggested that we give our son, with behavior challenges, up for adoption because she felt he would do better as an only child. We believe that families are forever and so we would not consider that. After this I couldn’t trust her.
Next, I went to see a male therapist and he was awful. His office was very dark with an uncomfortable couch. He wanted me to be more “mindful.” I was willing to try this new way of thinking but after a few sessions it just did not sit well. After this experience I did not see a therapist again for several years.
Getting My Feet Wet
Because I was feeling more stable on my current concoction, I got a temp job with Texaco installing computers for three months. This was to see if I was ready for a full-time job again. It went well enough that I then applied for a job at Bakersfield College. I had an hour-long interview, with a test at the end, and was sent on my way. I walked home from the interview, and I hadn’t been home long when I received a phone call offering me the job. I started a week later. I was on cloud nine. I could now support my family again. We bought a house about 5 minutes from work. By this time responsibility started weighing me down, or maybe my meds had quit working, and I started faking happiness again. It was a real struggle. I was getting migraines monthly and having to stay home from work half days or even all day when they were bad enough.
I got along great with my coworkers at BC. They became friends, although I did not confide in any of them. I kept my mental health to myself for fear of being judged. My boss was hard to work with. He stayed in his office and very rarely came out. He had his projects he worked on and held staff meetings regularly. But, if there was a problem, you didn’t find out until your annual review and then only in the paperwork did it show up. He didn’t give you any chance to correct or explain. It became part of your permanent record. I am a people pleaser and take pride in my work. This was very hard on me, emotionally. I definitely could not confide in him about my mental state.
The Daily Struggle
My moods were up and down, but I tried to hide it at work. It took all my energy to hold it together. I’d come home from work and not want to do anything except have dinner and escape into a movie. On the weekends I would crash. I overslept and did not go to church. I was off in my own little world of hurt and pain. I felt like no one understood me.
I was experiencing lots of anxiety during this time. I took four of my anxiety meds, the max allowed per day. I didn’t like how they deadened my feelings and gave me side effects. My wife went to pick up some of our vitamins at a local Nature’s Sunshine store one day and came across catnip as a remedy for anxiety. Sounded kind of weird but I tried it. I took two in the morning, two at lunch, and carried around two for emergency. This worked great! I went 10 years with only two anxiety attacks and no side effects. I tried another brand of catnip once and it did not work nearly as well.
They’re Coming to Take Me Away, Again…
For a few years things went well. Then, one day, I remember working at the new Delano campus, installing, and imaging the computers. I went in the office to start an image and broke down crying. The daily pressure became too much for me to hold in. I called Tamara and she came and got me. All my meds had stopped working and I was back in the hospital again. Eight days in the hospital! They had a new psychiatrist for me to see. They would give me a sleeping pill around 9:30 p.m., then the doctor would wake me up around midnight for his rounds. I was barely coherent enough to talk to him. Then, I had to try to fall asleep again after he left.
The doctor put me on a new concoction of meds and sent me home. Since my current psychiatrist was retiring, I decided to change to this new doctor for continuity. I had a rough time adjusting to the new meds. At work I had to fake being happy, which was very tiresome and wearing. I read a lot of fantasy books during this time. I carried one wherever I went always reading to escape the depression. It wasn’t easy. There were times when I wanted to curl up in a ball and wish the world would go away. I was very hard to live with. Eventually the doctor found a concoction that stabilized me.