Just so all of you know, the majority of the text in my introduction comes from a message that I posted in another online groups a few weeks ago. I was pleased with the way that I described the history of my illness in that message, so I’m using it as the foundation of my introduction. Most of the differences between that message and this introduction consist of changes in my life from the last three weeks.

I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder about a year ago, but I've been feeling the effects of the illness for more than three years. I think that my illness first started setting in during my junior year of college. I took on a lot more than I could handle that year (as in employment and campus involvement), but I somehow found a way to make it through the year relatively successfully. I didn't even suspect that I might have bipolar disorder (or any other kind of mood disorder) because I always felt exhausted from not getting as much sleep as I needed (as a result of all the roles I had to fill that year). I did, however, think it was odd that I would occasionally feel kind of euphoric -- of course, I now recognize that I was feeling hypomanic. One day, I felt so good that one of my friends asked if I had been doing drugs.

During my senior year, I cut back on my campus involvement (I quit being a resident assistant, and I worked in a reduced capacity at my campus newspaper) so I'd have more time for my classes and my job in the online department of a local daily newspaper. My senior year actually turned out to be pretty successful, at least in terms of the quality of my work (at the newspapers) and schoolwork. But, I wasn't as happy as I had been during my first three years of college, and my level of energy that year was clearly lower than normal. I attributed these changes to the fact that I was spending less time doing things that I liked, such as working for my campus' student newspaper and working as an RA, and more time at the local daily paper, which I didn't particularly care for.

Just before graduating, I was appointed to a full-time position at that daily newspaper that I *loved* so much. So, I continued working at the newspaper and living close to campus after I graduated. My full-time position at the newspaper was pretty similar to the part-time position that I held as a student, so the nature of my work didn't change very much. But instead of working during the day (like I did when I worked part-time), I needed to work overnight hours -- usually starting between 6 and 9 p.m. and ending anywhere between 3 and 7 a.m. -- because I was responsible for transferring all of the newspaper's content from the print edition to the online edition on the nights that I worked there. After making the switch from a part-time employee to a full-time employee, my feelings about my job (and life in general) went from bad to worse. Much worse. No matter what I did, I could never fall asleep right after returning from work and ended up sleeping in until 5 or 6 p.m. every day. I felt so drained of energy that I could hardly function at work, and I didn't do much of anything at home. It seemed pretty clear to me that I was feeling the way I did because I was dissatisfied with my job, and especially my hours. After working full-time for eight months, I finally decided to quit, and I ended up returning to my home town to live with my parents. I didn't exactly *want* to live with my parents again because my childhood was quite dysfunctional, but I felt like I had no other choice.

I spent the first few months back home looking for a job, without much success. Finally, I found a job as a part-time stringer (a reporter who usually works outside of the newsroom) at a weekly newspaper. This job didn't pay very well -- $25 per article, and I usually only wrote one article per week -- but it was something. My job as a stringer wasn't my dream job by any means, but I liked it a lot more than my previous newspaper job. I was seriously amazed by the fact that I was working with journalists who didn't have a superiority complex or believe that the articles they wrote were the word of God. So, my job was going somewhat well, but I still didn't have nearly enough to do. I finally gave up on trying to find a full-time job in a professional field (I really started to feel that I didn't want to be a journalist any longer), and I took another part-time job at an answering service that I had worked at previously. Then, within several months' time, I moved into my own apartment, quit my job at the newspaper, moved into a full-time role at the answering service, and then moved into yet another apartment.

I was pretty happy with my job, and it was a relief not to be living at home any longer. So, I was basically doing everything I could to try to improve my life, but I honestly didn't feel much better than I felt in the months following my college graduation. It was then that I sought treatment for depression (which seemed to be my problem because I felt very depressed at times, even though it wasn't all of the time). I was at first assigned to a therapist, and then I eventually began seeing a psychiatrist as well because therapy alone wasn't really making my feel much better. I was put on Paxil, but I didn't respond to the medication the way my psychiatrist expected. As a whole, I was feeling better when I was on Paxil than I was before I started taking it. But, I noticed that I'd usually feel really good for 3-4 days, then I'd sink into depression for another 3-4 days, and then the cycle would repeat itself. It was then that I my psychiatrist diagnosed me with bipolar disorder and added Zyprexa to my regimen of medications. I didn't respond very well to the Zyprexa. I guess it probably stabilized my mood, but I also felt like a zombie and slept 12 hours a day because of it. Eventually, my psychiatrist took me off both the Zyprexa and Paxil, and he put me on Wellbutrin.

My psychiatrist increased the dosage of my Wellbutrin twice -- first from 200 mg to 300 mg, then from 300 mg to 400 mg. The Wellbutrin worked well in the sense that my depressive periods were somewhat less severe than they had been, and it didn't send me into a hypomanic state. But the bottom line was that I still felt depressed probably two to three days a week, which made it extremely difficult to function. To complicate matters, I've now decided to go back to school to pursue a second bachelor's degree (in psychology). I moved into an on-campus apartment and began attending classes at the end of August, and I've been here ever since. I don't seem to be having as much difficulty functioning at school (academically speaking) as I did at work. But, compared to my first four years of school, this year's been a major struggle, even though my classes actually seem easier. I feel quite normal on the days that I'm not depressed, but when I am depressed, I always try to hide in the back of the classroom so I can just take notes without getting called on. I also find that it’s nearly impossible to study on the days that I'm depressed. I usually feel so pressured to get all my studying done on the days when I'm not depressed because I know that I won’t be able to get a single thing done once the depression sets in again.

Things haven't been going that well socially, but my roommate situation isn't too bad. I basically live in a four-bedroom on-campus apartment where we each get our own rooms, but share a livingroom, kitchen, dining room, and bathroom. My roommates (myself included) usually stay in our rooms most of the time, so I can I hide out in my room if I'm feeling depressed, and my roommates won't think anything of it. I also seem to be having trouble meeting people or establishing any kind of relationship. I basically live in a four-bedroom on-campus apartment where we each get our own rooms, but share a livingroom, kitchen, dining room, and bathroom. My roommates (myself included) usually stay in our rooms most of the time, so I can I hide out in my room if I'm feeling depressed, and my roommates won't think anything of it.

The difficulties that I've experienced since returning to school prompted me to call my psychiatrist to see if he could prescribe me some additional medications. The first thing that he did was add 5 mg of Fluoxetine (generic Prozac) into the mix. More recently, we (my psychiatrist and I) decided that I should start taking Lithium because my condition hasn't really improved that much with antidepressants alone. I took my first dose of Lithium last night, so now I'm just playing a waiting game to see what impact the Lithium will have on my moods and what side effects it will cause. I've already noticed what seem to be some minor improvements in my moods. I've been in a depressive spell since Thursday, but I feel pretty close to normal (maybe very mildly depressed, if anything) today. Of course, it's hard to tell if I’m just naturally coming out of the depressive spell or if it's happening because of the Lithium. My last depressive spell lasted four days, so the fact that I'm feeling better after two days of depression is promising.

I know that my life will never be normal, even if my current cocktail of medications proves to be effective. No matter how I feel, I'm always going to have to hide my illness from a lot of people. Most people don't want to be involved in an intimate relationship with a person with a mental illness. Some people won't even be friends with those who are mentally ill. Deciding whether or not to have kids is also a complicated issue because I really don't want to pass this illness on to anyone else. Raising a bipolar child probably wouldn't be very easy, either. Despite these problems, I have to accept my illness and do the best I can with it. I can't change the way I am. I do, however, have some control over my future actions, and I'm not going to stop working towards a bright future just because I have bipolar disorder. If I find that it's still difficult to function the way I want to function under my current cocktail of medications, I will keep changing medications until I'm satisfied with my mood levels. My struggle with bipolar disorder has been difficult, but I do think that my battle with this illness is one that I can win.

====={Tom}=====
delphic110@yahoo.com
AOL IM: delphic110