Expert: Joyce A. Anthony - 4/29/2007

Question
To tell you the truth, I am not really sure what my question is.  I guess what I will do is give some background information and go from there.

I was diagnosed with Bipolar, ADHD, OCD, and Anxiety about 2 years ago (I am am now 32).  I am currently taking lamictil, Zoloft, and adderall. In retrospect, my first symptoms started to show when I would say 8 or 9 years old.  Up till that point I had what can be said to be a normal life.  I was able to make friends relatively easy and I was generally happy. (I must preface the happy part with that during this time, my dad was physically and mentally abusive but I now believe it was because he was Bipolar as well.  Also during this time I was also raped so when I say generally happy, I say that is regards to how I started to feel as I got older).

As I grew older, (10 on) I found myself increasingly unable to deal in social situations.  I lost all of my friends, I couldn't deal with random people and I started to develop a sense of paranoia.  I believed and still do that people are talking behind my back, making fun and otherwise degrading me.  I was always considered smart but I barely passed any of my classes in school.  As a matter of fact, I was frequently placed in remedial classes.  It wasn't that I couldn't do the work, its just that I didn't care.  Once in school (or even at home doing homework) I would zone out and become depressed just looking at the work which just led to more abuse.  I started to gaining weight and to withdraw into myself.

By the time I was 12, I guess you could say my transformation was complete.  I had absolutely no friends, I couldn't talk to anyone, my weight had climbed to the 200s and I just shut down.  It is also at this time where my parents decided to give me my own room.  Whether good or bad, the only available room was in the basement, away from everyone else.  At school, it got to the point that even the teachers publicly made fun of me. My day consisted of waking up, going to school, dealing with the above (barely), go home, be berated, then go to bed where I would hit my head on a wall and cry myself to sleep every night wondering why I couldn't deal.

While this was going on, I decided I had to figure something out.  I know it is typical for people with the same disorder like me to self medicate with drugs or alcohol but I chose a different path.  You see, even though I did poorly in school, elsewhere, intellectually speaking, I had a uncontrollable need for information.  I was able to read at a 6th grade level by 4th grade and was college level by 8th.  (Later on I was tested to have an IQ over 140.)  Anyway, I put this appetite for knowledge and need for answers towards my problems.  I would read everything and anything that would provide me with some insight.  From newspapers, to books, fiction to non-fiction I looked for answers everywhere. I figured if I couldn't interact with people it was because I was missing something. Some piece of information that everyone else had that I didn't.  I read novels where the main characters were friends or stories where friendship and comradery was the main focus trying to see if there was something tangible for me to grasp.  I observed people around me interacting and socializing looking for the answer but I just couldn't see it.

By 15 I was totally walled off from the world.  My crying stopped, my need for friends stopped; I just shut down.  I made sure no one could see my emotions or thoughts.  I just maintained an air of aloofness and distance from everyone else.  People stopped actively making fun of me because they knew that they could get a rise out of me.  I would literally just look at them with an eyebrow raised and go back to what I was doing.  At one point, 1 kid decided to start punching me in my are during math class.  He was a weight lifter know to take steroids that decided he didn't like me even though we never spoke.  As he punched, I just raised my eyebrow, showed no emotion or fear or any reaction.  After approx 20 punches at his full force, he laughed and left.  I should point out that while he was doing this, I felt nothing physically or emotionally.  I was just hollow.  After he was done, I just went on to what I was doing as if it never happened.  The next day I completely forgot about the incident until he came back and just pull up my sleeve looking for the bruises he surely must have left but he found nothing.  He was shocked.  And I just looked at him, deadpan, with eyebrow raised.  He made a comment and left and never bothered me again.  That was basically my high school career.  the kids basically left me alone neither talking to me or about me.  I was more of a wraith.  There but not, physically in the same room but definitely in my own world.

Once I graduated high school, by the skin of my teeth, I moved out of my house and moved to live with a cousin of mine. He was 10 years older but we became very close.  Intellectually we were the same and had the same general interests.  The biggest difference was that he never had a problem relating to others so I always looked up to him.  So when I had the chance, I moved in with him.  I figured that he knew the secret that I had been searching for so being close to him and being able to observe hom would allow me to figure everything out.  Additionally, his family owned a restaurant/bar (diner) so I was able to watch hundreds of interactions a day so at first I was in heaven.  The people there were older and regulars and they accepted me with open arms and at first I was thrilled. I started to lose weight.  I went from a max of 245 to about 160 and in general, I was happy . . .for a short time. Unfortunately, the inevitable happened.  My mood shifted.  As time went on I saw exactly how stunted my knowledge of interaction between people was which really confused me and more sinister, started to scare me.  If I am that behind, how could I ever catch up, especially when the secret I was searching for still eluded me?

I once again would go home and cry wishing I had the answer.  My depression was uncontrollable and my behavior became erratic to the point where a slight jest would send me into a downward spiral.

I tried to kill my self at 19 for the first time.  I went home after being at the bar.  (It was the family business so eventually everyone ended up there; it was a sort of hub in our lives).  I never said anything, I just went home, expressionless, when to the bathroom, found some sort of medication (a sleep aid (rx) and cold and flu something) and swallowed.  The last thing I remembered was walking down the stairs and at the last step, falling backward then down hitting my head on the tile floor below.

Good or bad, I woke up, washed my face and went back to the bar.  No one noticed except for the bartender Tracy.  She was a good friend.  I always knew where I stood with her.  If she was pissed she let you know but if she was happy, it always shown through. (I do miss her).  Anyway, she saw me being out of it and asked me if anything was wrong.  I told her I was fine.  She gave me a weird look but let it be.  I tried again the next week.  I obviously failed.

2 years later, while at the diner where I worked the night shift 3 days a week managing, I guess I was manic or something because I was horsing around with 2 of the waitresses when they introduced me to a friend of theirs, Tara.  I spoke to he momentarily thinking to myself she was attractive but never really thinking about it.  Well a week later, her two friend told me she was interested and for the first time in my life, I admitted that I was too.  Long story short, we went on a date, (sept 1996) and got married oct 2000.  She was beautiful and caring and trustworthy.  With her, I never had to be afraid or suspect.  I was able to be me.  My thinking instantly cleared up, my ability to interact with others was great and overall, I felt great. I went back to school where I was a 4.0 student,  Everything finally worked. Before we got married, we moved to Arizona and started out lives together anew.  I had to stop school due to the move but we both found decent jobs and we were happy. Finally in 2003, I started going to ASU for an Interior Design degree (I have always leaned towards the artistic side) and by the end of my 3rd semester, I had a 4.33 gpa and made dean's list.  Without going into detail, ASU, being the #2 school in the country for this degree, has a very unusual program.  The first 2 years, everybody who signs up can pursue the degree.  But in order to get the BA, you must be accepted into the last two years by a submission of a portfolio, the quality of your grades, and an essay.  They only allow 22 of initial 160 to continue.  I was a guarantee.  My grades were perfect, as I mentioned earlier, my writing ability was unmatched and as for the portfolio, since I used to work as a graphic artist while living with my cousin, I had no worries.  Like I said, at this point in life I was invincible.  I was me.

Unfortunately, I am also the problem.  My wife wanted to get a divorce.  We separated dec 2004 and finalized the divorce last year.  Since then, everything went back to the way it was.  My grades took a nose dive, I had a breakdown while in school and I had to be hospitalized.  I attempted suicide once again.  I had a complete inability to function.  Everything I have gained in the last 10 years started to fade, including my ability to interact.  It was in may of 2005 when I finally figured out that I am bipolar.  I finally went to see a professional and had my suspicions verified.  That fall semester of 2005 I was able to hide my slide downward where I met this one girl who I found out was bipolar as well.  We became very close friends to the point where I considered her as a sister; we were that close.  The spring of 2006 was when the portfolio was due so we both started to work on ours.  I let her use my computer equipment (I still keep up my graphic design skill with the occasional job) and just kept each other company.  While doing my portfolio, I noticed that hers was not coming out to well.  Not because she couldn't, but she just did not have the experience.  Her portfolio was coming out like everyone else's, generic in its mediocrity, and poor in its execution.  I should mention that right before we started to work on our portfolios when we were alone, just chatting, she did imply that if she didn't progress to the next level, she would try to commit suicide.  I believed her because she does have a history with it.  What I should also mention is that I can not say no.  When I see someone struggling with something, I have to help.  Even when its detrimental to me, I can't just not help.  So as I saw her portfolio coming out to what it was, I started to give her hints and explain what she was doing wrong and how to correct them.  Unfortunately, my skill was way beyond hers so I had to start doing the more complicated tasked.  I would say that by the end, her portfolio was 80% mine.  I also wrote her essay because her writing skilled was non existent.

While that was going on, I was doing my portfolio, I had to install a roof (by myself and with a hammer) for my parents (which has left me with damage to my carpal tunnel from all of the hammering)I was going through the divorce which hinged on the house that I was living with (she had already moved in with her new boyfriend).  I also had financial problems as I really can't work and go to school at the same time.  I tried, I can't do it.  I had a plumbing disaster at my home and with all of that, I was dealing with my friend's issues.  I was completely erratic. Eventually my father offered to help me with money to save the house.  I was going to give Tara some money to buy her out and that would be that.  To make it fair, I was going to sign the house over to my dad to secure the loan so everyone was covered.

I started making all of the plans which really was a house of cards.  Too many things hinges on too many others.  My stress was through the roof.  Well. at the last minute, just when all of my plans were on their way, my dad started to change the rules.  My plan was to sell the house to him where he would pay the house in full (approx 116K - he had the saving plus more) and lend me $30,000 so I could pay expenses while I was in school.  I would use my financial aid to pay for the mortgage and, once I graduated, I would wither buy back the house or sell it, pay my dad back in full plus an additional 10K.  I would also pay my ex the buyout amount.  What he wanted to do would have ruined everything that was set into motion.  Additionally, the direction that he wanted to go was detrimental to him.  He wanted to refinance but leave it under my name and pay the monthly mortgage himself.  That would have put an enormous strain on him financially seeing as he is semi retired (he never really had a very high paying job so his savings is all he had).  He did not want to give me the 30K loan and expected me to work during all of this.

I snapped.  I pointed out that I was working even though I really shouldn't me, I have excellent credit, I have always paid back my loans, and have always gone far and beyond what was expected of me.  This is in contrast to my brother and sisters (all younger) who he is always bailing out of trouble, paying who know how much yet never saying no.  Yet with me, who has never asked for anything, he has a problem (actually this was always the case).  Lastly I reminded him that he offered the money, I did not ask him for help.  He started to defend himself when I had enough.  I told him to go f$#% himself and left.  That was April of 06.  I haven't spoke to him since. (I still speak to my mother.  We have a good relationship.)

I called Tara asking for more time in regards to the house and she refused.  With my friend in my office where we were making our portfolios, I had another breakdown.  I shut down.  That was a Friday.

The following, I failed to finish my portfolio in time.  I was able to finish my friend's though.  I even guaranteed that she was going to be accepted; that is how sure I was. That Tuesday, after Tara called apologizing for her flat refusal and was willing to give me more time.  I told her that it was pointless because I failed.  I told her because of her, my dad, and everything else, I broke.  Two days after that, she called me and said she felt awful at her behavior and withdrew all claims to the house. (At that point she reminded me why I always loved her and still do). By the following week because of my excellent credit and the equity in the house, (over 200k) I was able to refinance without proof of employment, pull an addition 60K for my expenses and save my house.

As promised, my friend did get into the program as I told her she would but here is where the last straw occurred.  Just when we first started to do the portfolio, she started to tell me how great of a friend I was etc.  I said thank you but please don't say something you don't mean.  I have been burnt before where someone calls me friend, gets what they want, then, when I need something, they disappear.  I told her she can use my computer and anything else I had, but don't lie to me now only to disappear during the summer.  I hate summer because I am always the most alone during the summer.

Well, she disappeared.  At the end of summer I finally cornered her by threatening to go to the school and outing her portfolio as a fraud, she finally admitted that I was too depressing and she did not want to be around me anymore.  I was and still am crushed.  I though I was happy that past summer yet she thought I was depressing.  I thought that if anyone would understand my swings it would be her as she goes through them herself. But even she couldn't handle them.  

That leads me to my question.  What kind of monster am I?  My wife, whom I still love, couldn’t stay with me.  I have no friends or even acquaintances.  I don't speak to most of my family and it’s been revealed to me that some of them are scared of me.  I somehow managed to drive away a friend that was supposed to understand because of her own experiences with bipolar.  I don't know how but I am alone again, banging my head and crying myself to sleep.  I tried to resubmit my portfolio this year but I still couldn't finish.  And to make matters worse, I am barely passing some of my classes.

Last week, I had someone call me who know that I am bipolar and asked me if I though the guy who just shot 33 people at Virginia tech was bipolar.  He basically asked that since I have bipolar, I must be barely sane and just on the verge of going on a shooting spree.  I have seen this reaction in others as well.  I have seen people expression turn from friendly to fear once they find out I am bipolar. I have since stopped talking about it.

Sorry about the novel, I just don't think its possible to answer a question without knowing its cause.  I am not sure that I even asked a question.  All I know is that I am lonely.  I so want to have what I have lost but I don't see how.  The only reason I met Tara was because her friend told me what she was feeling, otherwise I had no clue.  It seems that I can't read other's affect and without that, I miss all of the subtle cues.  I literally have no idea what others are thinking, making my paranoia worse.  I have seen doctors.  Psychologists and psychiatrics but they are no help.  I have become too well read.  I now what they are going to say.  Please forgive me for bothering you.  Please.

I know what needs to happen, I just can't.  And summer is coming up.  I hate summer.  I hate being alone.  I don't think I will or for that matter want to make it through.  I want my mind back.  I want my clarity back.  I want my life back.  What I have now is torture.  It must end.

I am sorry . . .

This is pointless . . .

I am so alone . . .


Answer
Dear Hollow:  I think what I see here is a complete lack of self-esteem.  You do not seem to feel or see your own worthiness.  When this happens, it is often hard for others to stick around.  They become frustrated in trying to convince you of this worthiness.

My best advice is this--please call a certified counselor and set up some one on one counseling. I believe you could benefit greatly from both this and possibly group therapy.

You need to start believing in you before you see others beliveing. Set up an appointment and tell the therapist what you just told me.

                          Joyce A. Anthony