I am Brenda, but most people call me Bren. Right now I am scared to do this, as the last time I was on a "support" board, one of the administrators verbally attacked me and made some personal threat because I tried to help the wrong person...a hacker. I had no way of knowing that the person was a hacker, and what they said hit home with me...basically I told them that if they were feeling Suicidal than they needed to call for help imediately. After a week of being belittled, and bashed by the "power-monger administrator" I was banned without any notice, or explanation. I was even called a hacker myself.

I was diagnosed with depression first, and then Bipolar. I think I have had it all my life, but was not diagnosed (with D) with until about 16 years ago. A month after watching, literately, my mother die of cancer, I completely fell apart. My T discribed it like a champaine bottle...once the cork was popped, everything came out without any control. The day that cork came out was the day I was first hospitalized, with what they thought was sleep deprevation. 11 years later here I am. It was not until about 5 years ago that we decided I was bipolar. I say we, because the doctor at the hospital, and my therapist, let me come to that diagnosis on my own. I think they knew before that, but they also knew that telling me I was bipolar would have freaked me out. Denial is a powerful thing. I think it was better the way they did it, as I figured it out myself.

Recently the hospital that is closest to me closed do to financial cut backs. This means that I won't have that safety net for when I fall. It also means that I no longer have Dr. S. who has helped me emencly. I still have my T, but when in crisis Dr. S was my savior. Now I have to travel over 100 miles if hospitalized, which means no family support when I am there. It is just too far to go for a few minutes of visiting.