OCD, ADHA, PTSD, STD, ABCD What the ****??

I know I haven't blogged in a VERY VERY long time. Maybe it is because I now have three kids and I am EXTREMELY outnumbered, maybe it is because I built a house and moved this spring and summer and had zero time but I'd put money on the fact that I didn't have much to say. (Well I always have something to say but nothing worth hearing)

Let's start at the beginning.  

I've gone through a mini grieving process  the last year. Yep all five steps.. Here's a nutshell overview.
First there was: 

Denial- I knew something was wrong in the back of my mind. Something that had slowly become off. I didn't know exactly what it was but, I slowly felt her slipping away. She was becoming more distant and more alone. Yet, I kept telling myself it was fine.. This went on for months yet I kept pushing the thought off. Military wives have no time to have a problem. We hold the roof up and everything piled on top of it.

Anger- She was always angry and she stopped caring about almost everything. She kept saying everything was normal.. Crawling out of bed mad became a normal thing. What began as a once in a while mood turned into a daily thing.

Bargaining- Soon I began to reason that it was just from being tired or stressed yet, when even when getting enough sleep or taking enough things off of the plate things didn't go back to normal. 

Depression- The more things headed for the "fog" the more I began to realize things were off. I knew something was wrong and needed to be fixed but I couldn't bring myself to accept it yet. It made things even worse. The more I noticed the problems the more I got depressed about the problems, which in turn became another problem.

Acceptance- I finally accepted I was heading for a very bad destructive path and that I needed help. Yes! I was talking about me this entire time and things were NOT okay anymore.

         In the spring of 2012, I finally found myself standing in the living room just completely consumed by the world and not knowing how I was supposed to breath. I was handling normal military wife and mom things. Packing a house to move into a house we were building that was running into problems created by mother nature, military finance messing up money and not on a small scale. School for the kids, coaching baseball, hubby in school, helping to plan a wedding shower and wedding for my sister while making invites for both and taking on my roles in the church (Teaching the woman's Relief Society class). Why would I possibly not be okay this was my norm... I wish I could pinpoint the day or thing that finally caused me to be standing their alone in the living room suffocating on the hot air around me, but I can't. All I remember is looking around at piles and piles of boxes, invitations, sports equipment and kids toys and feeling like my chest was caving in on me. (Now, I have always know I have ADHA. I was told at age six and medicated for years and did some therapy until I was ten. Anyone who spends a decent minute with me will not be surprised by that diagnoses.) As I slowly lowered myself onto the floor I kept thinking I CAN NOT keep doing this. I knew I wasn't having a heart attack but I also knew I can't have another one of these( latter diagnosed) anxiety attacks.

        A few days later after finally getting my courage up I made a phone call. I had the biggest knot in my stomach but I schedule an appointment with a Dr. in Psychiatry. Bad news there was no appointment for 2 months. *UGH* Two months later I went in and came out. I had a paper of stuff and a few prescriptions in had. Now here we are over seven months later and I am to a point where I can say Normal is coming back, wait NO normal is in the past I can feel myself heading for something better than normal. 

     So here is the deal. I see my Psychiatry dr once a month to still work out medication kinks and then I see a Psychiatrist every week because I am still not completely okay. I have been seeing the Psychiatrist for almost 5 months now on a weekly basis and there is much to cover since I haven't seen one since I was ten. So here is the breakdown, medical terminology is crazy I didn't know what I had been diagnosed with for the first several months and then one day I was given a paper to take to base to have blood drawn and marked out in black ink was a word that literally hitched my breath and brought tears to my eyes there in the hallway to the office. It took all I had to schedule my next appointment and walk to the car before completely breaking down. I'm betting you are curious what it said. Months ago I would not of told you but now I can. I read Sever Anxiety, ADHA, OCD tendencies, Bi Polar Disorder Type 1 (also known as manic-depressive disorder) and a big fancy term for Mood Disorder. After I spent hours freaking out over it and googeling it (worst thing to do ever) I went in to see my therapist and told him all about the paper and how I was being a huge baby about it and was super upset. He told me they were lables and Bi Polar 1 is not the stereotyped Bi Polar everyone thinks about. Even still the title its self was heart breaking for me. I don't like being broken and I have never looked at my ADHA as broken but then seeing that paper I felt like I was in a million pieces and each one had a mental problem written on it. I didn't even tell my parents. If they read this they now know.. I couldn't bring myself to tell really anyone the diagnosis. (If you knew consider yourself lucky)

      Here I am now, medicated and feeling better. I feel like I can rationalize things like a normal person would. I am not crawling out of bed ready to eat the first stupid person I run into at the store. I don't see my kids covering their ears from me yelling all the time because I'm not yelling all the time. I can feel myself pulling back into my friend circles, my church activities and more importantly my church studies. I haven't felt this well in a few years I'd say. It's not just me. I can feel my relationships with Caylon changing. He confessed a few months back that he was unsure how to talk to me, worried about the smallest things and how I would react to them. Worried to update me on things good, bad or ugly because I didn't act like a normal person would. He said he knew I was distant but never knew how to help and he just felt the space there.

I am still a work in progress but I am to the point I don't feel shameful with people knowing. Judge if you will but just remember I had a problem and though it took time I went and am working to fix said problem. (can you say the same for yourself and your personal issues?) I hope so... really I do because it feels so good to fix a problem that is consuming your life and gain back the control you are meant to have..


I didn't post this for sympathy, I posted it for the exact oppisite for INSPERATION.. If I can inspire just one person to step up and take control of their life wether it be drinking, smoking, losing control like I did, or maybe even being in that distructive relationship. I don't know what it is but hoipefully seeing a bit of sucess will help whomever know there is sucess out their for anyone who trutly steps up and works towards it.. I may be medicated to some degree for the rest of my life, but you know what I look at it like my dads insulin he will always need it to feel somewhat normal and to thrive in society. I will need my medication to feel normal (or better than) and to thrive in society.

So GOOD LUCK whoever you are. 

Behind you are the challenges you have met.

Before you lies new possibilities. 

Today you choose the direction of your life.