Am I misdiagnosed?

Hi Teefa,

 

I went through the same thing your going through a few years ago. My doctor put me on Risperdal, and I gave it a good 2 months and decided it made me a zombie and stopped taking it.

 

Then I started thinking that it was the medicine that made me worse and maybe nothing was wrong to begin with. Well I had this theory for a couple of years while I was going through the same thing I was before that had me put on medicine in the first place.

 

Now I'm on Lamictal too. That the only thing I'm on also. Only 25 mg once a day. I go up to 50 mg in a week. My pills are super tiny though, so I can swallow them easy.

 

I'm always looking for a reason to stop taking my medicine. But thankfully my hubby reminds me how bad I felt before I started taking it. Because I try to trick myself with "It wasn't that bad"

 

I would really enjoy bouncing ideas off of each other especially since were on the same medicine. I was diagnosed w/ Bipolar II. I still wonder if they are right. But I'll keep taking my medicine just incase they are.

 

What sort of symptoms do you have?

Hi Olivia and Zomese,

Thank you for the insight. I've never known anyone who is bp, and I've been lurking here for a few months. I see the support and inspiration you all give each other, and it makes me have a little faith that it's going to be alright. I know deep down that my hope for a misdiagnosis is just wishful thinking. I guess it's part of coming to terms with the fact that I will have to deal with this for the rest of my life. I beat myself up on a regular basis for having to put the people that I love so much through the heartache that I cause when I become manic or the "pity parties" that they have to endure when I feel all is lost. My current husband, who has saved me from myself more than once, is a constant reminder of why I take my medicine religiously and why I try very hard to be the best person I can.

As far as symptoms go, it started out when I was about 18 (May 1998), when I quit school two weeks before graduation (I was an honor student), and instead chose to drown myself in alcohol and recreational drugs of all sorts. I came out of it after about 4 months, and went back and got my diploma, and spent several months with my head hanging in shame and wondering if my continued existence was the best thing for my family. But then came a good run of "normal" life, in which time I got married and had two beautiful wonderful little boys. But things were going well, and for some reason, I just can't leave well enough alone. So in the summer of 2003, I became a little worst than the last "episode". I left my family, drank constantly, used more substances that damaged myself and my life, quit my job that I had for 5 years, and chose another career that to this day, I have no idea how I even made it through the first night. I made less than responsible choices in companions (there were many, and I did not know some of their names). I spent money I didn't have. I would have rather run a large tab at the bar or bought very revealing clothes than pay my rent or light bill. This lasted about 8 months. I did these things because there were "other-worldly" beings that were guiding me to the "right path". All of these things caused me to lose my kids, my home, and my self-respect. But I met my now husband, and he helped me pick up the pieces (yet again). I then spent another half a year in shame for the things I did, and wondered again whether continuing to put my precious family through all this was fair to them. Things were good for a while, and then last summer, I started to become very agressive and confrontational. It took my husband walking away from me and telling me that we needed to take some space for ourselves to open my eyes and see some sort of pattern. Something was wrong. So I went to see my family doc, and he put me on Paxil. Both my brothers have chemical imbalances, and Paxil works for them. The doc said that it usually runs in families and we'd try the Paxil first. I turned into a complete mess. I was climbing the walls, crawling out of my skin and mind, and didn't sleep for a week. He sent me to have an eval, and they sent me straight to a pdoc. After hearing my story, she said it was a wonder that I made it through. The diagnosis was classic bp I. So then began the struggle for a "cocktail" and the rapid cycling that followed were some of the worst months of my life. Sometimes I just think that some of it was just bad judgement. Maybe I made a bigger deal out of it than it really was. Like you said Olivia, maybe it wasn't that bad. It's such an internal struggle, and it's days like today that make me feel very tired of fighting so hard. Sorry for such a long post. You're the first people I've ever spilled this to that weren't directly related to me. It's too scary to put myself out there and risk people pointing and whispering behind their hands. Is that something you get used to as well?