The first time I heard the voice, I was seven years old. It called my name “Destiny.” I was on the edge of falling asleep. It wasn’t yelling, but it was loud enough to jolt me awake. I called out for my Paran, my Godfather, because I thought it was him. It wasn’t because I remembered that he was offshore. I wasn’t really scared, but I was shaken a bit.
It happened again when I was ten. It was right after my Paran died in a car wreck. I was in the car with him. It happened the day after his funeral. It whisper, ” Your fault.” That’s all it said.
Now that I look back on all of this, I realize that I should of told others immediately, but I didn’t. I kept my mouth shut and put a fake smile on my face. Why? I don’t know. I just don’t.
Now here I am, a 21 year old woman, who was in and out of mental houses since I was seven, at least ten times. I just now got a solid answer about two and a half years ago. I’m bipolar apparently.
Please excuse me if I sound skepitcal, but I’ve been down this road before. ADHD, ODD, Parent, Child conflict, autistic, etc. You get the point, and every time it flipped flopped. Can you imagine how confusing that was. I was on all types of medication. Some of which made me zombified. My grades slipped. I barely graduated. If it wasn’t for my resource teacher, I don’t know where I would be right now.
The meds I’m on right now are ok for me. I just had to have one lowered but other than that, no voices. I think I still get manic and depressive at times. Like, I draw, I have all these ideas racing in my head at once and I feel as if I can take on superman. Then other times, I just don’t get out of bed. I look at all of my unfinished drawings and I start to feel like crap. I don’t shower for about however long the depressive states last. I have literally went a month without showering, or leaving my house.
When I’m in my depressive state, I get paranoid about the weather. It can be clear as a crystal outside and I will be sitting at the door with my phone in my hand and the weather app open to see if there’s a tornado warning.
I recently got of Cal Oaks, a mental hospital. I tried to take my life. I don’t really understand what happened, the best way I can explain it is that my brain went stupid. I had a knife in my hand and I put it to my wrist but I didn’t cut , I just stood there. My aunt walked in and I snapped out of it and started stabbing the takeout box in the sink.
She called my memaw ( grandmother) and she came over and took me to south Cameron hospital. They checked me into Cal oaks and a deputy came to transport me. One thing I’ll never forget from that ride is that a deer was crossing the road and the deputy honked the horn. The poor deer jumped and fell on her face. Well I shouldn’t say only one thing will make me forever remember the ride, the deputy was hot.
When I arrived at Cal oaks, they took my clothes and made me wear those ugly hospital gowns. They did that to wash and inventory my clothes. Then they took notes about me and marked on a paper where I had stretchmark’s. Then the lady nurse had me follow her to the center room and had me fill out some paper work. Then I was sent to my room. I had a roommate but I don’t really remember much about her.
I was out of it for the rest of the day over there because they didn’t give me my meds the first day. I stay in my room unless it was time to eat for most of my stay over there. I finally decided to go to group and be active. They started me on latuda or something. It really helped. I finally got to go home. I stayed there for seven days.
My memaw had came and picked me up. I felt really excited to go home. I was hungry for some real food and a coke. I think I lost a little bit of weight over there and that elevated my mood a lot.
When I got home, the dogs where so happy to see me. They didn’t leave my side and still haven’t. I had missed them so much. I found out that they help with my anxiety.
Right now I am the happiest that I’ve ever been in my life. I want to run and jump and scream to the world that I am finally truly happy.