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My name is Tori.


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I'm going to introduce myself without reading any other intros first. Then I'll go back and read the others. Just need to try and be candid.

I started getting "panic attacks" when I was 15. In now 31. I've been hospitalized more than a dozen times and diagnosed with everything from GAD to Borderline Personality Disorder. The latest is Bipolar 1 with OCD.

I have a degree in psychology. I'm assuming there are many others here with the same degree. Maybe? I don't know what I am anymore because every psych tells me something different. This time around, I do have some faith in my diagnoses because I told my psychiatrist everything. Before her I wouldn't tell them that I had little tics where I thought if I didn't make it through a yellow light before it turned red, it meant I was going to hell. Things like that. I thought any psych would just tell me I'm a certified lunatic and throw me back into the hospital.

Anyhow, my history is long and complicated. I'm sure most people here have the same issue. So, I'll just say that I am on Seroquel at the moment, which is "driving me nuts" as I have been working hard to lose the 70 pounds I put on in the past 2.5 years. I had 2 babies in 2 years btw. That's the reason for the weight gain.

I'm training for a half marathon and I'm much slower than everyone else. I have to keep reminding myself that I'm on AP's and they are likely rolling out of bed with "normal" brains, to attend meets. It really sucks.

I'm also on Klonopin for anxiety, as well as Buspar. We are going to switch me to Lithium soon, after I get my labs done. The Seroquel is making it impossible for me to get off my ass and go get the labs done.

Right now I'm in the middle of a mania. I feel like I'm going insane and nobody believes me. They keep telling me "oh that's just anxiety". I feel as if I am walking around in a nightmare. I can't take care of my children the way I want to, because I sleep so much. My husband and I are arguing more than we should be. He is dealing with most of the childcare.

This post may be rambly and/or stupid, and is likely riddled with bad grammar and spelling mistakes. Forgive me. The meds are really kicking my ass.

They aren't helping the way they used to, either. Did I tell you that I'm 31 now. I'm so tired of fighting this.

One non-mental illness related fact about me? I live in Seattle. The weather isn't helping. I moved here 3 years ago. My husband and I are talking about moving somewhere with more sun. I think the weather affects me in a way I can't make other people understand.

I'm sure I'm forgetting things.

Thanks for reading,

Tori

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Hi tori! I really like your username.

I'm dealing with med-related weight gain as well. It sucks :( Mine is Abilify. Sigh. Too bad it WORKS.

I would love to move somewhere warm. I think that would have great benefits to my mood as well. Alas, family here and whatnot.

Well, welcome to CB!

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Hi Tori. Welcome to CB.

I'm sorry you've been through so much suffering. I'm glad that you're sticking to finding the right meds and the right balance for you.

I understand the frustration of changing diagnoses. I've been on that roller coaster for twelve years, just finally getting diagnosed with Bipolar I a year ago during a spectacular mania. I, too, had finally been honest with my psychiatrist about the bipolar symptoms I had been hiding or in denial about for years. And, once the mania hit psychosis, there really wasn't much to confess at that point. I also hid my dissociative issues from my therapists for years until they declared themselves on their own. It wasn't a diagnosis I wanted on my record, as I feel it really falls under c-PTSD, but they attached it anyway.

So I'm still, a year later, working for the right med combination for the bipolar that doesn't also trigger more dissociation (there are many psych meds that lower the threshold for dissociation). It's a process that takes time for sure.

I also have a 5 year old daughter who is mostly cared for by my husband. It breaks my heart to be so unavailable to my daughter. So many days I can't get out of bed or play or even tolerate the noise and touch. But I try to remember that I am still the most important person in her life and that she cherishes the times when I can be with her, and I try to get a few good, quality minutes in everyday of listening to her talk about what is important to her, and snuggling. As she gets older, I will explain more about my illness and make sure she knows it's not her fault (that's how kids think) and hopefully, with a stable home and strong relationships outside the family, she will be okay. I know the guilt so well, though. Oh so well.

Anyway, this is your thead, not mine, lol, but I wanted to let you know that I, like many others here, can relate to what you are going through.

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