The Diagnosis

In Winston-Salem I was diagnosed with major depression.

It was considered situational and not much background was asked for. They prescribed an anti-depressant....a really strong one. They sent me home after 4 days, with the antidepressant and 90 Xanex.

To say the place I'd just spent 4 days in is sub-par in the behavioral health community, is a bit of an understatement.

Fortunately, my therapist had the foresight to ask me to hand those Xanax over. He has been the one constant in this story. He keeps me anchored and is my biggest advocate. I could not ride this roller coaster without him.

So I took my pills and went to a psychiatrist for the first time ever. I was feeling pretty good by then and just kept feeling better and better and better. I didn't need sleep, I had tons of energy. My house had never been cleaner. At 3am one morning, I decided that I must go to Walmart to buy Draino....my sink wasn't draining fast enough for me.

And then it began to get ugly. I was quick-tempered, talking faster that the speed of light, spending money I didn't have, unreasonable.

My next behavioral health stay was in Charlotte....exactly 19 days after being sprung from the first one. I honestly don't remember the details of how I ended up there....but I know there were hallucinations involved. I'd been awake 7 days....straight. The first day or two is a blur in my memory.

Day 3 I remember rather well. I was pacing. I did a lot of that. The doctor asked if I'd like to sit down and I didn't want too. I felt that it was impolite to refuse, though. I was raised in the South, I didn't want to be impolite. :-)

He asked me to listen carefully, which was next to impossible to do, but I somehow I managed. He clarifies a diagnosis for me. "You have a disease called Bipolar Disorder. It used to be called Manic-Depression."

My response was a calm and mature,

"I DO NOT!!"