Read Online Living Bipolar by Landon Sessions - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Landon Sessions
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parent’s bed. I was just beginning to fade out, and my sister called. I picked up the phone, and I said, “I love you Anita. I’m sorry.” I was completely falling out already, and my sister picked up immediately on what was going on. She was in Philadelphia, and she told her roommate to call 911. My sister then stayed on the phone with me the entire time. When 911 got there they knocked down the door.
The next thing I remember I had a tube up my nose, and a catheter and the emergency team was pumping charcoal into me as fast as they could. I was so ungrateful. My sister called the hospital, and she was crying, and she was so upset. I said “I’m so annoyed. I have tubes up my nose and my urethra.” That’s all I could say to her. My parent’s reaction to this was tears . Tears more than anything else. They didn’t know what was going on.
Rates of Attempted Suicide
Studies of attempted suicide in Bipolar patients show that 25 to 50 percent attempted suicide at least once. Combining data for both sexes’ results in an attempted suicide rate ranging from 20 to 56 percent. Women, however, appear far more likely than men to attempt suicide, showing both a higher minimum and maximum rate, 15 and 78 percent, respectively. The attempted suicide rate for men was consistently lower, ranging from 4 to 27 percent. Johnson and Hut, the only investigators to specify the severity of suicide attempts, classified 90 percent of them as serious enough to warrant hospitalization. In the general population, women attempt suicide two to three times more often than men, but men actually commit suicide two to three times more often than women.
Goodwin and Jamison pg 231
When I wanted to kill myself I was able to make anyone come to my side. After the suicide the doctor said, “You might be Bipolar,” and my parents said what does that diagnoses mean? I was sitting with my dad one day after this, and he said “You know your uncle, my brother, has obsessive compulsive disorder. He is very sick, and he won’t meet women, even his nieces, because women are dirty to him because they have periods. He’s sick. I didn’t even know my brother had a dad like that. I didn’t even know. Then my mom said her brother married a woman, and they told me she died of a foot fungus. But really she killed herself. She hung herself.
After the suicide attempt I was so upset. More than anything I think I just wanted to be angry at someone and I was very angry in general. I wanted to visualize my illness at something, or someone, I could just be very angry at. So I chose my dad as the focus for my anger. I blamed him constantly because the illness is on his side of the family. Every single member on my dad’s side of the family has some sort of mental illness. Everyone. Most of it is either O.C.D., depression.
My family history is my dad has five brothers. One uncle has obsession about religion, obsessive compulsive disorder, and a little bit about of a personality disorder. Another of my uncles has obsessive compulsive disorder also. My uncle has two sons and one has a personality disorder so bad he can barely function around people. My sister has depression, and I have Bipolar disorder.
Mental illness is in my whole family, and I was really angry with my dad, because mental illness is on his side of the family. I would curse him, and hate him, and I would sneak out and go do drugs. I was just angry. They put me on lithium when I was sixteen, and everything got better Bipolar wise. For the most part I started feeling better. But because I was feeling better I thought it meant I could do bad things, and deep inside I was still angry because I knew I wasn’t normal. I knew there was something really wrong with me.
My parents coddled me like you wouldn’t even believe. They didn’t know what to do, and I was so manipulative. I was in mania a lot. The doctors were upping my meds, up and down, when I was 16 and 17. My meds were so off that I went
The next thing I remember I had a tube up my nose, and a catheter and the emergency team was pumping charcoal into me as fast as they could. I was so ungrateful. My sister called the hospital, and she was crying, and she was so upset. I said “I’m so annoyed. I have tubes up my nose and my urethra.” That’s all I could say to her. My parent’s reaction to this was tears . Tears more than anything else. They didn’t know what was going on.
Rates of Attempted Suicide
Studies of attempted suicide in Bipolar patients show that 25 to 50 percent attempted suicide at least once. Combining data for both sexes’ results in an attempted suicide rate ranging from 20 to 56 percent. Women, however, appear far more likely than men to attempt suicide, showing both a higher minimum and maximum rate, 15 and 78 percent, respectively. The attempted suicide rate for men was consistently lower, ranging from 4 to 27 percent. Johnson and Hut, the only investigators to specify the severity of suicide attempts, classified 90 percent of them as serious enough to warrant hospitalization. In the general population, women attempt suicide two to three times more often than men, but men actually commit suicide two to three times more often than women.
Goodwin and Jamison pg 231
When I wanted to kill myself I was able to make anyone come to my side. After the suicide the doctor said, “You might be Bipolar,” and my parents said what does that diagnoses mean? I was sitting with my dad one day after this, and he said “You know your uncle, my brother, has obsessive compulsive disorder. He is very sick, and he won’t meet women, even his nieces, because women are dirty to him because they have periods. He’s sick. I didn’t even know my brother had a dad like that. I didn’t even know. Then my mom said her brother married a woman, and they told me she died of a foot fungus. But really she killed herself. She hung herself.
After the suicide attempt I was so upset. More than anything I think I just wanted to be angry at someone and I was very angry in general. I wanted to visualize my illness at something, or someone, I could just be very angry at. So I chose my dad as the focus for my anger. I blamed him constantly because the illness is on his side of the family. Every single member on my dad’s side of the family has some sort of mental illness. Everyone. Most of it is either O.C.D., depression.
My family history is my dad has five brothers. One uncle has obsession about religion, obsessive compulsive disorder, and a little bit about of a personality disorder. Another of my uncles has obsessive compulsive disorder also. My uncle has two sons and one has a personality disorder so bad he can barely function around people. My sister has depression, and I have Bipolar disorder.
Mental illness is in my whole family, and I was really angry with my dad, because mental illness is on his side of the family. I would curse him, and hate him, and I would sneak out and go do drugs. I was just angry. They put me on lithium when I was sixteen, and everything got better Bipolar wise. For the most part I started feeling better. But because I was feeling better I thought it meant I could do bad things, and deep inside I was still angry because I knew I wasn’t normal. I knew there was something really wrong with me.
My parents coddled me like you wouldn’t even believe. They didn’t know what to do, and I was so manipulative. I was in mania a lot. The doctors were upping my meds, up and down, when I was 16 and 17. My meds were so off that I went
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