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Cheers for Good Caregivers!


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We spend most of our time being negative (just how we are!) and bitching, but in fact, many of us would either be dead or much worse off without the support and love of at least someone around us.

Can you think of one (or more!) very special instances where you KNOW you were saved by an "angel" in your life?

For me: my dad (also BP1, 1957-2004) found me on the floor hysterical, ready to shoot myself. He managed to get the gun away from me, get me into bed, gave me a huge dose of his Ativan, and called my pdoc once I was asleep. We managed to avoid a hospitalization or burial because of his actions!

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;)

No matter what anyone says ... I have been a caregiver since the the age of 10.

My whole life has been one after another situation of crisis needed in an inteven- tion with someone. I missed life in  itself because of my calling.. Yes it  is  a gift

given to some people  who are  able to sacrifice their own life and happiness for the sake of others.. .

Sound full of conceit... No I cared and  fed my family since 10 because my mom was dying and when she pulled thru I bought a duplex for  her and I , so she could have a little dog , not walk stairs anymore, and grow a veg garden. She died watching her tomatoes grow. For all I suffered then . NO REGRETS>>>>

MY best friend .. I tried so hard.

TOday .. I give my care to 3 foster kids who lost their mom to severe schizophrenia and who have multiple MI's. Dad is not well either. My happiness is never an issue ....God only knows why i was chosen... Please no derogotory  responses for the honor of my mother who was my brother and I's saviour till she died.

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My ex-boyfriend and still extremely good friend.  And his mother. 

I was diagnosed while at university half a continent away from my family.  I had no one.

Even after he and I broke up he was always there for me, took me into his house when I had no where to go, took me to the park so my pasty, sun-deprived skin would get some light.  Took me for sushi, put up with my screaming and slaming doors in his face and throwing things at him and laying motionless in bed and cheating on him when manic.... yep.  And his mom never said a horrible word and helped me every chance she got.

Two beautiful people I am so very very thankful for.

Oh.  And also my dog Rizzo.  Because everytime I wanted to die I realized someone would have to care of him and I couldn't let anyone else take him for fear they would be cruel.  I was terrified of hurting him (I think getting him as a puppy while I was extremely messed up made him very sensitive).  I just could not kill myself because I could not leave him.  He is so beautiful.  I have looked at him and felt the most unconditional love.  He is gloriously trained and I didn't even need to use a choke chain.  Just love and trust.  He walks offlead, sits at every street corner, knows what a crosswalk is, can follow directions.  Listen to me gush... I just love him!

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My three best friends of last year were what really helped me get through.  I relapsed over winter break and went back to spend the entire semester in the depths of depressive and medication-adjustment hell.  I should have failed a class (it's only because I think the professor could tell something was wrong that I think I got my D) and I transferred at the end of the semester.  I thought I needed to be closer to home (my family was six hours away, which was manageable but at the same time not b/c I can't drive).  But anyway:

My roommate: She was so good.  If there were a Roommate Hall of Fame, she'd be in it.  She was better than cheering me up than anyone else.  She was so funny and a complete sweetheart--she had been hospitalized in high school and was on antidepressants, so she knew what I was going through more than anyone else and never made me feel like a burden.  She transferred too, which actually had a lot to do with my decision to transfer.  I didn't really like the school, and she was the best part about being there and if she was gone, what was the point?  Unfortunately, we're in different states now and I'll probably never see her again.  We still talk every once in a while, but it's not really the same.  I miss her a lot.

My guy friend: Also hilarious.  Some of the best times I've ever had were when it was just the two of us, goofing off and being creepy.  We got each other in a really weird kind of way.  He was like a brother.  Two-thirds of the way through second semester, it just kind of tapered off.  He started spending almost all his time with his girlfriend (one of my roommates, not the one mentioned above) and only talked to me every once in a while.  It was awkward.  He didn't want to see me the day I left.  He went out of his way to make sure we didn't spend any time alone and was just kind of, "Yeah, bye."  I was really upset.  We talked a little at the beginning of the summer, but he stopped talking to me completely about two and a half months ago.  I have no idea what happened.  We didn't have a fight, nothing changed, he just won't talk to me.  I still talk to his girlfriend, so I ask sometimes how he is.  I guess he's fine.  I'm bitter, yes.  We were like best friends.  Argh.  Still, though, no matter what's happened since, I'm really grateful for the times we had.

My "best" friend: She lived across the hall and was a year older, so I felt special being her Pet Freshman.  We have almost nothing in common (she is a Type-A genius nymphomaniac who knows exactly what she wants, I'm a Type-Z slacker virgin who has trouble deciding whether or not to get out of bed), but somehow it works.  It didn't work sometimes--I "broke up" with her twice because I was being a huge baby and decided she wasn't really my friend, but when I came around and was like, "I'm sorry, I was delusional and immature" she always forgave immediately.  She had less (no) experience with mental illness than the other two, so she didn't understand why I couldn't snap out of it and I think she got kind of tired of my constant crying.  But I think the fact that we did manage to stay friends (minus the "break ups") even through all my crap says a lot.  We talk constantly and I can talk to her about everything.  I miss her, too, but to a lesser degree than the other two because we talk almost every day and there's a 90% chance I'm going to see her soon and probably several times throughout my life.  She's a wonderful friend and I'm so lucky to have her.

And I can say with absolute certainty that I wouldn't be alive today if it weren't for my crazy dreams and unrealistic plans and goals.  Therapists tell me I have to quit being delusional, but my delusions have kept me alive more than anything or anyone else in my life.  Sometimes (even last semester) they were literally the only things that kept me going.

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My first and only experience at a psychiatric hospital was absolutely wonderful. Most all the staff, nurses, doctors, residents were so nice yet professional. So responsive and concerned about the well being of all the patients. I might even go so far as to say they even coddled us sometimes, so intent were they on not upsetting anyone. And the good vibes just infected everyone. Great for the very supportive groups and mutual cheerleading. I gained a self-confidence I tap into now and then.

7

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My best friend has saved me an untold amount of times... The most recent was saturday... we live on opposite sides of town from each other, it was about 10 at night, i was at his house and extremely depressed, he was going to go out with other friends and it was time for me to go anyway... i was crying and just in the pits of hell... i couldn't promise him that i would make it home... he went and got his mom, and he drove me home, his mom fallowed us to take him back.

Another time he had a date after school, when he left me i was extremly depressed, i went home... i was home alone crying. Next thing i know he's on my door step... he was so afraid for me that he went and cancled the date to come make sure i was ok, and take me out to eat instead.

And about a year ago now, back before i was dxed but still extremly depressed... him and i first started hanging out. We decided to hang out on mondays... hung out the first monday and i was like "yay i have a new aquantience." The next monday i forgot all about it... and i planed to kill my self that day after school... but then he turned up and was like "ok lets go." And i was just kinda like... huh... but we hung out, and that little destraction pulled me out of my abyss just enough that i lived.

God only knows how many times i've been a crying mess in his house. For a long time he had to make me promise everytime i left not to do anything stupid that day. And so far, i'm here... other days he wasn't able to be there for me physically... but as i sat alone in my car contemplaiting suicide, it was the thought of him, and the fact that i'd be hurting him that kept me from taking my life.

It was also his influence a couple of months ago that convinced me to finally tell my parents about my depression and ask to see a doc [who dxed me bipolar, fun fun]

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My husband's sister helped me when my husband had a manic/psychotic episode. It was his 3rd episode overall, but the first one while he was married to me. I was pregnant with my youngest son and had a toddler at the time. She flew out to Colorado, helped with the munchkin and the house, let me cry my eyes out at her, and talked with me about his previous episodes. She filled me in on so much that my husband had not understood or paid attention to about his condition. She helped me research bipolar and understand what was happening.

Even though I am the caregiver, I could not have done it without her ;)

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Well first of all G-d for being there through this ride.

Second of all my mom for never getting tired of my mood swings, rages and even me beating her up. She's been there no matter what. She knows when I'm getting manic and need to take a Xanax and when I'm down she comforts me or if I'm really down and suicidal she calls my pdoc or the local hospital. All love to her.

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