I already posted this on the main forum under "new member", but I realized it should probably be in the bipolar section:

Hello, all. I'm new to the site, but not to Bipolar. I was diagnosed 15 years ago, when I was 21, after my first diagnosis of clinical depression at 19. I used to cut myself, and tried to OD on meds once. During my week stay in the hospital, I went from suicidal to running around the ward, practically bouncing off the walls, and talking so fast no one could understand me. So, I was diagnosed as bipolar and put on lithium. That was 15 years ago.

Fast forward- I went without medication for 10 years, and achieved a relatively stable existence that fluctuated between dysthymia and high functioning. I convinced myself that the doctors were wrong, that I had an occasional bout of severe depression, but I couldn't be bipolar, because I didn't experience the euphorias anymore. I didn't take into account the mixed states, usually manifested as extreme irritability, and occasionally a panic attack in high-stress situations. I just told myself that I was a very sensitive person, and responsive to the fact that the world is a screwed-up place and generally depressing. I didn't want to accept the diagnosis of a life-long illness, and I bought into the stigma that only weak people couldn't control their emotions. I wanted to be "normal".

Then, for the past couple of years, I kept slipping into depressions, and thought about getting help, but didn't want to be on the meds again. At the same time, possibly precipitating the depression, I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. It's easy to get depressed when you're in pain almost every day, and having to accept a crippling, life-long physical illness. I didn't want to add the bipolar to my reality.

Finally, last year I was in a deep depression, often crying uncontrollably. At one point I asked my husband to lock up my narcotic pain relievers, because I was repeatedly fantasizing about taking the whole bottle, just so it would all go away. That scared me, because I know logically that I have much to live for. So, I went to a psychiatrist and she put me on Abilify. The Abilify made me feel like a zombie, numbing all of my natural emotions, and it made me drool in my sleep. So after about 2 months, I just stopped taking it, and didn't go back to her.

Fast forward to last month. I was in a downward spiral again, not exactly racing thoughts, but more like a tape playing in my head on repeat: I have no reason to keep breathing, I'm useless, no one would care if I fell of the face of the Earth, they're all out to get me, no one likes me, anyway, etc. I was even obsessed with conspiracy books, and was convinced that Big Brother was watching my every move, and had probably bugged my house. I was irritable and crabby to everyone, and I generally hated the world. Finally, I had a breakdown one day and just couldn't stop crying. Someone at work told the administration that I needed help, and they called my sister, who convinced me to go to the doctor.

So, now I'm dealing with feelings about what my co-workers think of me, projecting thoughts on them such as I'm crazy, I'm unstable, and they don't want me there. Now that I'm on Seroquel XR, I'm in a generally good mood and feeling stable. Yet, once, again, I'm dealing with accepting the fact that I'm "mentally ill". So, here I am, looking for support from others who are walking the same road.