I am Bipolar 2 with Major Depression. I have been on meds since I was 12 years old. I have been on every medication you could think of. I have been to tons of psychiatrists. I have had a year and a half of ECT. I am now participating in a study at Stanford for TMS. It seems as if I get better for a small amount of time-about 9 months tops-before I fall into a hole again. I am 32 years old, with a 3 and a half year old son. I am a single mother. Right now, I don't even have a job and am being supported by my parents. My apartment is a mess. I am so completely unorganized-I always have been. I hate my life. I even hate my son at times. I feel horribly guilty not being "present" for him. He was the reason I jumped into ECT in the first place. I worked, but, like everything else, only temporarily. I don't get manic. My mania is rage. I feel it within my whole body: my head pounds, my insides twist, by blood gets flows hot. When I am deep in my depression, I won't be seen in public unless I absolutely have to. Every noise, every movement sets me off. Then I just curl up on the floor and cry. My son sees me, and comes up to me, hugs me, and asks me if I am sad. When I nod my head, he hugs me and tells me, "Mommy, I love you very much. It's ok to cry if you're sad. Do you want a sticker?" and he usually goes and gets me a tissue and a sticker. He's 3. He shouldn't feel like he has to help me or take care of me. Then I get furious with him later for something stupid, like jumping on his bed, or taking his shoes off in the car. I honestly think sometimes he'd be better off without me. I think about putting him in a foster home. But I am the only parent he has ever known. His father left when he was 1 month old. And I myself was adopted, which has affected me my whole life. I just can't help thinking, is this it? Is this the way my life will always be? Once I get some kind of footing in life, the rug gets pulled out from under me, and I fall on my face. Always. From age 8 to 12, I used to lock myself in the bathroom and punch, scratch, slap ,yself and pull my hair as hard as I could, all the while staring in the mirror, saying, "I hate you. You fat ugly stupid piece of ****". I know this all sounds hard to believe, but this has been my life. And I hate it. And now I'm affecting an innocent being, and I feel awful about it, which makes me even more depressed. I just don't know what to do anymore. I can't live this this, at least for my son. But i can't seem to ever snap out of it, either. I don't know what I'm asking for on here. A safe place to tell my story? A place to vent? Some good advice? I just don't know.
I know it is hard, but try to make changes one by one, get involved in your own life.
You can only replace a habit with another habit, make changes to your life slowly one day at a time, don't be mad at your son, walk away, get some adults involved in your life in any way you can. Don't take it out on him.
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