Valleys to Mountaintops: Inspirational Health Journeys

Table of Contents

INTRODUCTION

DISCLAIMERS

DEDICATION

SECTION A:

MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES

SECTION B:

PHYSICAL ISSUES

SECTION C:

RELATED ISSUE

SECTION D:

STORIES PLUS

EPILOGUE

INTRODUCTION

The stories you’ll read as you continue may seem like business as usual situations for the people telling about their lives, but perhaps they and others who read this book will come to understand their heroism.

Teaching at an agency in Iowa, I helped new employees know how to aid those with disabilities. As I taught I became truly enlightened. The usual classroom lack of knowledge was disturbing; however, unless one must deal with a health-care situation, missing information is understandable. Thus, an interest was sparked for me to explain to people that unexpected health circumstances can occur in people’s lives. They’re unimaginable and unfortunate. However, when such circumstances actually happen, most people are able to accept, adapt, and move forward. Researching different situations and writing, through first hand testimony, has been very rewarding!

Multiple sclerosis, diagnosed in 1980, osteoporosis, diagnosed in 2004, and severe scoliosis are my health issues. When I was forty years old and working became impossible, I wondered what to do. After all, I was still a fairly young person! Seeking possible opportunities, school was an attractive option because I had attended a year of college already, albeit twenty-some years before. I loved it and eventually graduated with a bachelor’s degree in psychology, then went on to earn a master’s degree in rehabilitation counseling. Rehab counselors help people with disabilities find employment. After teaching about disabilities for three years, it became necessary to retire permanently.

Much personal experience with people with health challenges has stayed with me, so writing a book became intriguing. It has definitely been rewarding! I have learned so much in connecting with others, about many different situations, and have met many wonderful people. I have also found that people all over the world are friendly, courageous, and amazing! Worldwide acceptance, understanding, and story contributions have been extremely important to me. Heartfelt thanks to everyone.

As a person who has known what it is to go from being totally functional to almost totally dependent, I can safely say life has been undeniably interesting. This book has been written with speech recognition software and mostly with my left hand. I am naturally right-handed; however the right side of my body works minimally. I wear assistive devices to keep me upright as I use the power wheelchair. My personal assistant and I live in Iowa.

Working or otherwise, living with and without health challenges can provide one with innumerable experiences. For me, writing about the experiences of others has been so enjoyable! I have connected and reconnected with many wonderful people who are unquestionably friends. They deserve only praise.

This quote by Samuel Beckett, Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better, appeals to me. My world has an upbeat, hopeful outlook, and I share with others that they can make a positive impact for the world. Perhaps that impact has already been made!

In this book, mental health issues, physical issues, caregiving, and additional stories are sections. Chapters within the sections, with personal stories, are followed by factual and cited information. Within the chapters, websites and miscellaneous information may be included. Information for the book was gathered beginning in 2008 and was updated in 2011. If you are intrigued by the information provided, investigate the websites or additional information. Definitions were usually found through Google searches. Profits from the book will be donated to predetermined charitable organizations. Look for even better books in the future.

DISCLAIMERS

Medical Disclaimer:

The information contained in this book is provided for the reader’s general information only. The author does not give medical advice or engage in the practice of medicine or counseling. The author under no circumstances recommends particular treatment for specific individuals and in all cases recommends that readers consult their physician or local treatment center before pursuing any course of treatment.

Trademark Disclaimer:

Product names, logos, brands, and other trademarks featured or referred to within this book are the property of their respective trademark holders. These trademark holders are not affiliated with this book. They do not sponsor or endorse this book.

Permission has been obtained to use stories.

DEDICATION

To Jan and S.W.R., thanks for your inspiration,

your diligence, and your laughter

SECTION A:

MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES

Mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of, but stigma and bias shame us all.

Bill Clinton

Famous People Who Have Had Mental Illness

Hans Christian Anderson, Ludwig von Beethoven, Winston Churchill, Kurt Cobain, Charles Darwin, Emily Dickinson, Thomas Edison, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Betty Ford, Paul Gauguin, King George III, Johan Goethe, Ernest Hemingway, Victor Hugo, Ignatius of Loyola, Thomas Jefferson, John Keats, Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther, Michelangelo, Florence Nightingale, King Saul, Robert Louis Stevenson, Sir Isaac Newton, and Howie Mandel

Author’s Note:

The following stories convey the contributor’s personal experiences. In that vein, as people read on they may see some unusual words or spellings.

 Chapter 1

ANXIETY DISORDERS

WHAT IS GENERALIZED ANXIETY DISORDER (GAD)?

Bruce

It’s been fortunate that I have a very caring family. My parents work hard, and as I was growing up, my siblings and I had interests other than sports. However, as I aged, I did participate in wrestling, running, tennis, and was on the swim team in high school. I became popular, played the game, and had long-term relationships with females. But I knew I was a homosexual in a small Midwestern town. Are alarm bells sounding in your head? They screamed in mine! High school was a confusing time, because I was trying to figure things out. Self-esteem became an issue because I started thinking other students knew I was different. I believed they were thinking faggot when they looked at me or thought I was so gay that I swished when I walked. Leaving home to attend a university in another city was a good choice and has proven to be a significant factor in shaping my life.

In this new city, I graduated from the university, I was always a good student, found professional employment, and met my lifetime partner. We have been together now twenty-one years. Long-term relationships seem to be my forté! I found work at a large institution, and I was extremely good at my job. Even though tolerance of gays was apparent in the city, comments made from time to time by others touched my nerves in a harmful way. My upbringing dictated I endure such thoughtless remarks, and this was additionally detrimental to me. At work, I would talk of my roommate instead of saying my partner’s name, because I thought I would sound effeminate otherwise. I either avoided answering the phone or lowered my voice when I did. Eventually, I became comfortable enough with coworkers that I started coming out to them. It was a slow process and spanned ten years.

After a decade in this section, it was time to think about different work opportunities. I chose to change jobs at the institution. Switching has proven to be a mixed blessing and a definitive decision for me. Because the environment at my new location seemed so forbidding, from management to employees, my nerves were stretched tight at all times. Old fears and thoughts came back to haunt me, so I was speaking again of my roommate instead of naming my partner and again began to lower my voice when answering the phone. After acclimating to the new environment, I found that one coworker had a gay brother and another had a gay brother-in law. This helped me feel much more comfortable. After working at this job for another ten years, downsizing came along. Decades seem to be turning points for me. I was being pressured to take on a new role and to accept increasing amounts of responsibility. My already taut nerves were stretched yet more thinly. I had outbursts from time to time, which did not endear me to management, and the icing on the cake was when a female coworker accused me of sexual harassment. Hah!

Yet more pressure, depressing thoughts, and bouts of uncontrollable crying during trips to the restroom finally led to a mistake in my work. Its’ discovery provided an excuse for management to push me out. These events, combined with thoughts of suicide, one day helped me choose to enter the Psych Clinic instead of walking past. This led to a stay in the hospital and my parents visited me. I was pleased when my father hugged me and said he loved me. This was a wholly different situation than I was used to. I knew then that we were important to each other! It was a seismic shift in attitude and was pivotal for me. My partner and I are now accepted as a couple and we are supported by my family.

After leaving the hospital, I visited a local free clinic. I still felt out of control because I relived—and still do—the unpleasant times, and I continue to need medication and therapy. The doctor at the free clinic, upon seeing my face, gave me tests and quickly diagnosed generalized anxiety disorder. After talking some, depression was also diagnosed. The doctor explained the two frequently go together. I currently receive long-term disability benefits, as I await a determination about my grievances with the institution. The whole work scenario has been upsetting and leaves me feeling angry, treated unfairly, abused, and violated. These emotions are deeply felt indeed.

As I look back, I am quite proud of the positives in my life. I have a caring family; a monogamous, loving, twenty-one-year relationship; I was successful at my job; and I have created a lovely backyard. People have said it looks like a park. Also, I purchased and paid for the house before the age of forty. I am a perfectionist sometimes, but I have learned it is sometimes acceptable to be satisfactory.

Now I keep busy. Otherwise, I get bored, tired, and unwelcome thoughts intrude. I would much rather work than be idle, so I have many irons in the fire. I volunteer as a tutor at a local community college, and I enjoy teaching very much. I find myself re-learning skills unneeded for many years, and it captivates me. Often I think of taking courses to become a teacher and then I recall that as a child, I enjoyed playing this role immensely. I think to myself that further education could be a good thing. I deliver meals on wheels, volunteer at the local NAMI chapter, and work on commission creating stained glass windows. For that, perfection is definitely needed. I enjoy cooking, landscaping, know my way around my computer, and make a mean ice cream. I have also had thoughts of opening a gelato shop, though that is far in the future. I am a just a fountain of exciting future possibilities!

At this time, I am enjoying my life and feel better now than I ever have. I believe we all have trials to endure. Mine revealed that I have more strength and resilience than I ever thought possible. The trials also demonstrate my talents and my determined attitude to succeed. Hey, I am okay!

WHAT IS PARANOID PERSONALITY DISORDER (PPD)?

Jerome

Spending much of my time visiting various websites implies it is my favorite activity. It’s true. Different Internet sites teach a lot about technical topics such as science, civil defense, and telecommunications. Science interests me very much, and I can spend hours reading online. I could read books or go to a museum, but it is very convenient to sit at my computer screen, have the information at my fingertips, and remain in my home. There are several music websites I visit. The songs appeal to me and relax me at the same time. Relaxation has become a huge part of my life.

The northern region of North America is where I live; I have been diagnosed with paranoid personality disorder. That is the reason I spend so much time on the computer. Websites on the Internet allow me to connect with other people on YouTube, Myspace, and Facebook, so I am less isolated. In the past, when I wanted to escape my reality, I would go to a site with personal information and blogs. I read about the difficulties of others and have come to recognize that I could actually be one of their group. This has been a tremendous comfort to me and helped me to get through some pretty tough times. Meeting people face to face is a somewhat unnerving situation for me, so this works out much better. Also, the Internet connects me worldwide.

Another site, called Skinhead Moonstomp, I enjoyed for the music I could hear there. The site was taken down. Though I am not a skinhead, nor desire to be, I found that I connected with the music emotionally. I feel that Oil, a punk rock variation, and Ska, reggae with jazz and/or blues, freed me from myself and empowered me to be comfortable with my place in society. I am a son, a brother, a friend, and in a way, I am an explorer. That is my life now.

What led up to these circumstances? When I was thirteen, I was walking with a friend. Just sauntering along, when I was suddenly surprised that my legs were less flexible than before. It was like they would still move, but locked up a little with each step. My young brain was having trouble taking in this unexpected change, when I started panting and sweating as well. I felt like screaming; what I did was keep walking and then rested when I got home. When I woke up, I felt even worse than before. I was stunned these things were happening to me, a teenager, but still the symptoms remained. I was truly baffled. What could this be? The first people I relayed the information to were my parents. Their answer was less than satisfying: It’s part of puberty. As far as I knew, my friends didn’t have to deal with this in their lives! It seemed, or so I thought, I would just have to go it alone.

As I got older, those anxious feelings continued. Finally, it became so bad I was almost afraid to leave my home! Three years after the first symptoms, I went to see a psychiatrist. This first doctor teased me, refused to make eye contact, and made me so mad I snapped and started yelling. Needless to say, there were no further visits to that doctor. I felt quite vulnerable when I saw the second doctor, who did many, many tests and offered little help. Again, there was no relief. Another three years passed, and I was more determined than ever to find help. Then I went to a third psychiatrist, who asked if I ever felt anxious for no reason. Yes. We did more tests and he eventually assessed paranoid personality disorder. Medication was prescribed, and he referred me to group therapy. Well, I was fearful of meeting new people, but I was resolute in my purpose. I was tired of being afraid! I realized upon arriving at group that I had company; there were others with similar feelings. I had friends again and the third time had been my lucky charm.

The first medication I used gave me blinding headaches, enough so I had trouble seeing straight. When I went to see yet another psychiatrist, the doctor changed the medication, and now I am able to use that one without side effects. I’m very glad those terrible headaches are gone!

Since diagnosis and therapy, I have done much soul-searching. I realize now that I used to hide myself away in a corner to protect myself. I wanted to avoid the judgment of others; I could just see it in their eyes. After seeing this look enough times, I was extremely sensitive to it. There was plenty of hostility on my part, responding to the hostility of others. That was my defense: anger. Group therapy helped me to know that there is less to fear and that people other than my family can be trusted. I now feel freed from the fear.

These days, I am more confident and assertive. I have chosen goals and would like to go to a trade school, perhaps to learn telecommunications engineering. I am also very interested in design and feel I would be quite successful at repair. It has been an eventful, but worthwhile, journey. Now I am focused on my career path and am ready to set things in motion to move forward. Currently, I listen to music and fantasize to relax. I think about what others’ lives might be like. Knowing myself as I do now, and knowing what I want, helps me when people judge. They have made comments like, I wish you would die, and have made fun of the way I walk. How crummy is that? I can now walk more freely than at first, but not as freely as I could originally. I do have tools though, and I can deal with the walking and the comments.

I enjoy my life. My friends and I have good times and I make sure the friends I do have fulfill my needs. Another thing, I am persistent in working toward having my needs met. I like to be around people with disabilities; they are hindered by their situations, as I am. There are times I would like for things to be different. I see others functioning in normal ways, and I’m jealous. Then again, I recognize the love and sacrifice of my hardworking parents and younger brothers, and I am grateful to them. I am very fortunate to have love and, with medication, a stable life. I am a man on the brink, who needs only a bit of momentum to advance. That momentum will certainly be found, and I am ready to move ahead with confidence and optimism.

 Chapter 2.

BIPOLAR DISORDER

WHAT IS BIPOLAR DISORDER (BD)?

Amanda

As a child, I always felt different from those around me. Though I could almost identify why it was so, the mystery remained. There were times when I could clearly see that I was depressed, which made me feel even further removed from my young classmates. I kept to myself, becoming more and more withdrawn, and by age eleven, I was all too familiar with the feeling of melancholy.

After a major surgery to correct severe scoliosis at age twelve, I felt even more changes than I would have liked. I spent the next seven months recovering and during that time, I experienced an inability to sleep. My mind would begin to race so quickly it was impossible to keep up. As the months passed, that flurry of rapid thought continued, my ability to concentrate dwindled, and I slept less and less. There were nights when sleep would totally elude me, because I was consumed by a need for movement, creativity, and productivity. Four nights without slumber were common, so I remained unconcerned. I figured this was normal.

As quickly as I would feel the first desperate need for continuous motion, this mind-set melted away into an overwhelming sadness that consumed me. Motivation would be scarce and I wanted nothing to do with the world around me. Turning to drugs, which removed me from an intolerable reality, I spent several months in a perpetual haze of pot, pills, and anything that would make me forget how utterly miserable I was. It flung me deep into a hole from which I had neither the will nor the tools to climb out. It seemed that the light which appeared above me slowly began to dissolve and with every passing second that light was moving further and further away from my reach. At seventeen, I found myself still within the hole, and the light above me was but a sliver of fading hope. I attempted suicide, downing twenty-four Darvocet over the course of two hours. Fortunately, my attempt was discovered.

As the weeks wore on, my need to abuse drugs decreased, and that tiny light at the other end of my prison gradually grew larger and larger. Suddenly, it burst into a brilliant fire, a beautiful, radiant glow directly over my head. This incredible starburst flooded me with a frenzy of artistic inspiration and that old familiar need for constant motion. I created some of my most memorable art pieces during this time; one idea following another. Actually, there were so many ideas that they were tripping over each other! I was overflowing with creativity, happiness, and confidence. What anyone thought of me didn’t matter. I cared only about these fabulous feelings and my newly found artistry. This was a state in which I hoped I’d remain forever. But along with those beautiful, cherished feelings came other elements of mania. My irritability and agitation spilled over, making me snap randomly at those I loved. The inspiration I had felt turned into a non-stop flow of intrusive thoughts, ideas, and anger. I was barely sleeping; I was barely hanging onto my sanity, but would eventually regain my footing.

That was a turning point for me, and I decided that I needed to contain both my depression and my worsening mania. It was hard to admit that I needed help, but I felt I had little recourse. I chose to see a therapist to help me sort through the thoughts in my head, and I selected a psychiatrist to begin a regimen of medication. My psychiatrist diagnosed bipolar disorder and urged me to find more information on this illness. That way, I could understand what I go through a little better. It was the first step of many to reclaim my sanity.

To tell the truth, this has been by far the hardest path to follow. I have taken many, many psychiatric medications, and I’ve had to switch meds on a regular basis. They would either stop working or would exacerbate my depression or my mania. Finding the right cocktail is incredibly tough; truthfully, it’s a pain in the ass, but it is something that I learned was crucial when managing my bipolar symptoms.

A cure for bipolar disorder has yet to be discovered. Medication is a means to minimize symptoms and to manage them better. I still go through manic episodes, just as I go through depressive episodes and mixed episodes. My medications need to be monitored just as closely as my behaviors. After years of learning how to identify and manage my symptoms, I have been able to catch myself as I shift episodes, so they may be treated by adjusting my medication dosage. Also, I can tell if I need hospitalization, which helps me stay safe.

While it’s likely different for every bipolar patient, I know that in order to lead a productive and stable life, I will probably always be on medication. I’ve come to a point where I have accepted this. I would urge anyone who is experiencing symptoms similar to mine to see a doctor and give medication a try. This may be the key to managing your symptoms and could allow you to live a life free of ever-shifting moods. It’s a hard pill to swallow, literally and figuratively, but because I have chosen to swallow that pill every day, I have chosen to give myself a chance at a more stable existence. With medication, the light above my head is neither a fading ember nor a blinding vision. I have found the way out of the hole. With my experiences, I am ready, even eager, to take on the role of a valuable contributor of knowledge!

Chrisandra

Since experiencing my struggles and being diagnosed with bipolar illness, I have learned of similar mental illness on both sides of my family. It’s almost as if I was destined to be a part of this group. I am aware of several individuals in my extended family that clearly self-medicate with alcohol to deal with what I can now recognize as bipolar symptoms. As far as I know, only two family members currently receive help for those mental illness symptoms. Thankfully I do.

After the birth of my son in May of 1999, within days of arriving home, I first noticed symptoms of bipolar illness. I was a young, first-time mother with unusual circumstances. Back then, I thought these indications were normal for just having a baby, and it would pass. I do recognize that caring for a baby is life changing, but I also had increased energy, did not need much sleep or food, I had racing thoughts, and generally my moods were very different. I now know that I was experiencing mania, which continued for about three months. Then I crashed and experienced a deep depression. When the blow of depression came, I would feel incapacitated and flat. These are frequently bipolar experiences.

During a manic period, I would know extreme highs, with heightened sensations such as sight, especially colors. Sounds were amplified, tastes were exceptional, and my sense of touch was enhanced. I felt grandiose, like I could do and be anything. I also knew tremendous loss as the result of behaviors during the manic period.

At this time I was divorced. I fought for custody of my child, lost a job, lost my car; I had debts resulting in bankruptcy, criminal charges, a loss of self-esteem and goals, etc. I also had almost an obsession with religion and a sense that some things were within my reach, which was mostly untrue. I was confused by the symptoms I was having and felt that I was totally alone, without anyone to turn to or trust. It seemed that I was at the bottom of a deep pit and could not climb out or even see the light as a guide to get there.

The thought kept coming back, How did things get so bad, so fast? I also thought that my life was basically over and that I would never be able to get back on my feet to enjoy time with my son. I feared the future, what my family and friends would think of me, and how I would deal with the stigma of mental illness.

The future is where I focused my thoughts. The main objective for me was to get better, so I could return to my young son’s life. I also realized that my experience was something I could reflect on, and that maybe I could help others in the same situation by offering support and guidance.

This was also a time of struggling with medications, testing which were the right ones, and