DevonB's Journal

I'm 41 now.  I've come so far in life, it's almost hard to imagine.

I am the third of four children.  I was different from day one...but a quiet little girl is hardly remarkable.  I was incredibly articulate as a child.  I was very logical and precise, but had difficulty with reality and fantasy.  My best friend for many years was my younger brother.  Alas, younger brothers grow up, and grow apart from you.

I always had one best friend in school.  Someone whom I would attach myself to, and make my life around.  When, inevitably, the friendship would end, I would be devestated.  I was never a part of any clique, as I was too odd.  I was socially inept in many, many ways.  I developed acute anxiety.  Any change was difficult for me.  And as I grew older, things became far more confusing. 

I sailed through school barely studying at all, and receiving very good grades.  As the years progressed, and school became more difficult, my grades became average.  By the end of high school (grade eleven in Quebec) I was suffering from severe anxiety.  I began to go through depressions.  Sadly, my home life was far from ideal.

My father was manipulative and domineering.  He would pit child against child, and our mother was a hollow woman, trying to survive day-to-day.  All our efforts were at making sure we did not upset our father.  He drank...but was a happy drunk.  It was when he was sober that we were careful.  We could never be sure how he was going to be.  Someone was always in trouble...and everyone tried hard not to be that person.

At a certain age I started trying to make it so that others weren't in trouble.  I would do something to draw attention to myself, so that it was me in trouble instead of my mother or siblings.  For some reason he went easier on me (or so I perceived).  As I grew older, it was always me in trouble, and his patience wore off.  I became the black sheep of the family.  The different one.

I was diagnosed as depressive, and then bipolar when I was 19 or 20.  I had seen a number of psychiatrists up to that time.  I was told to exercise.  That was their solution.  I was put on anti-depressants...but it caused my manic episodes to fluctuate.  I was put on Lithium...but I felt like I was dead.  Everything was grey.  I had no emotions.  I could not live that way, and quit taking it.

I took a few other types of antidepressants, but never stayed on my medication.  My life was in constant turmoil, and my anxiety was constant.  Furthermore, I never fit in.  My family viewed me as terminally messed up.  I would only see them at holidays.  I had moved out at the age of 17.

I never finished university.  I tried to take my own life.  It wasn't that I wanted to die, I just didn't want to live anymore through all the pain.

I drank, I did drugs....although never completely losing control.  However, due to anxiety and social ineptitude...I could never hold down a job for any length of time.  I was never really happy.  I looked everywhere to figure out what was wrong...but nothing solved the problem.

At 26 I got married.  Within a year I had a child, and became suicidal.  I was put on medication again.  My anxiety was still constant, and I had mild manic episodes.  Unfortunately, it was never euphoric.  My manic episodes are called mixed.  I would become unbelievably irritable.  I would suffer terrible moments of vicious anger, and at times violent thoughts would overwhelm me.  Three years later I had another child.  My marriage was dead.  It had never really got off the ground.  The father of my children was distant, addicted to porn, and the only reason I got pregnant with my second child is that I got him drunk and seduced him.  The next six years did not change...and I was celibate and miserable.

My mother came to live with me after my father divorced her.  At this point, I supported my mother, and my siblings and my father ceased speaking to either of us.  I was surprisingly okay with that.  They were very mixed up and unhappy people themselves.

My mother saw what I was living through, and validated my thoughts about the children's father.  He did nothing, did not help with the children, and spent all of our money buying things on a whim.  I asked him for a divorce.

At this time I got together with someone whom I had known in High School.  He had been after me for 22 years...so in some ways I thought I owed him.  I drank heavily.  He was domineering and belittled me for many reasons.  I went back to college, hoping to learn a trade.  And there my life changed.

I met a woman who became my best friend.  We were from the same city...we had even been to the same school (albeit five years apart).  She was gay.  I had jokingly told a high school friend that I was a lesbian at the age of 17, but she freaked out completely...and I never mentioned it again.  One day I realized that I was falling in love with my best friend.  And I told her.  She was seeing someone, but the relationship had been dead for many years.  I tried to stop anything from developing.  But I couldn't.  One day I kissed her, and I knew I wanted her.

Being in the middle of a divorce, dating a terrible man, and being financially unstable, I didn't think I could be with this woman.  I was tormented, and in emotional pain.  Add to this that I was also in physical pain that no one could diagnose.  I was hospitalized for close to a week.  My body and mind were totally stressed, and I collapsed.

I ended the relationship with the man, and invited my lady to live with me.  I didn't know how we'd manage...but I didn't care.  I needed her.  Times were tumultuous...and I made an error so large that I almost lost her and my own mind at one point, but we came through and I repaired what I could.

I hadn't worked outside of my home in over ten years.  My anxiety was overwhelming me.  With gentle encouragement from my partner, and a lucky break, I got a job that supported us.  My partner started doing contract work instead of physical labour, which was taking it's toll on her. We were doing okay.

One Wednesday evening...I told her that I wished I could stop drinking.  She had been sober for 6 years.  She took me to my first AA meetings.  Once I had acknowledged that I had a problem drinking...I could never go back. 

I was hospitalized with what they thought was a stroke for a week.  No diagnoses.  They did not know what was wrong with me.  I had lost complete and total sense of balance.  I could not sit without aid, and something to prop me against, and even then I would fall forwards or anywhere for that matter.  I could not walk, and barely crawl.  It took weeks to alleviate.

A year after getting my job, I had another manic episode that caused me to have a nervous breakdown.  They are easier than you think.  Thankfully, she kept the house together, took care of my boys, and supported me through the horrific period.  Once my meds had been altered, and I started to recover.  Again, with gentle support of my dear and loving partner, I found another job, as the job I had was causing me intense distress.

Sadly, while my health had been precarious most of my life and I had experienced migraines on and off, their frequency became daily.  I was barely able to function.  The most I had was three days of peace before they came on violently for weeks at a time. By the following spring I was at my wits end.  The neurologist had no answers, and didn't have anything to offer.  My General Practioner offered me an option.  I took preventatives...and they helped.  I could function.

However, the crushing fatigue that I was enduring did not go away.  I ached everywhere.  I could barely stay awake through the day.  I was fatigued by the most mundane activities.  And I was in pain...and I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia.  

At the same time...I learned that I had Asperger's syndrome.  While physically I was failing...I found great solace in learning why I was like I was.  It explained so much...and I felt at peace, finally, with my history of my behaviour.  I did not feel so apart from others, and so lonely.  I found my place, and I was okay with it.

Fibromyalgia has become the lodestone around my neck.  I love my wife, I love my children, and frankly, I love my life.  I just can't live it without fatigue and pain, and that frustrates and upsets me.