College

I was so high on anxiety during that move-in day I could not move! I could not move! This was something, leaving home for the three-hour drive to Colorado Springs to attend the University of Colorado, Colorado Springs. Being in college, living in the dorms, was a high all in itself. I thrived on the social atmosphere it gave me. I wanted to everyone’s closest friends. I lost my attention to my school work, those Cs soon became Ds, Fs, pass/fail and I frequently would drop classes to have more time to spend with friends. 

At this time, I am still not drinking or using. I spent time and move to make the one-hour commute to Denver to attend events, go to gay bars and meet other men like me. I fell in love with Denver’s big-little city and its social scene quickly. I made the decision at the end of the academic year to transfer the credits I had to the University of Colorado, Denver. The time passed quickly and I was off to Denver! 

I left very little time for transition and submerged myself in as many activities as possible. On my tour of my new dorm I was offered a position as a Resident Assistant and accepted it immediately, moving into my new apartment the following weekend. I worked in the student senate/Student Government Association as a Student Senator, eventually in the later years becoming its Executive Director, then President.  

In the dorms I was fearless to the parties and raggers that happened behind closed doors. I was an RA and there was a job to be done… I was going to do it. This was the first yeah the dorms had been open and everything was new to us. We coordinated well in order to keep things in control, however, we were just students. What authority did we have backing us while treeing to tear apart drug ridden, packed, smelly, boozed up parties.  

Though, the job had its benefits! During an “investigation” of a party a boy noticed me and approached me in an odd way. Brian, a handsome blonde with blue eyes, told a mutual friend out our that he had some interest in me. I definitely was attracted to this guy. He was handsome, tall, smart and genuinely looked like an Abercombie model. We started dating and and exploring each other. He knew he had me.  

Around this time my mom started her move from Crested Butte down to Denver. I visited her often, I believe we grew closer around this time period. Mom visited one and stayed at my apartment during her visit. Brian, my mom and I went to dinner that night at Ruth’s Chris (wonderful I may add). This was a first for me, having dinner with a parent and my first partner? Wow. Both Brian and I still under 21 abstained from alcohol and allowed my mom to indulge. After dinner we dropped my mom off at my place and put her safely to sleep. Brian and I sitting at the dinner table couldn’t wait to get home. We hit my bed as soon as we could. I felt so comfortable with him. I felt like the moment was right and it was time to get a little bit more intimate in the relationship.  

Over the next few days we spent some more time in his studio over my apartment. I believe it was a little less RA to resident when spending time in his space. Brian kept a bottle of Grey Goose in his freezer as all times. One night we sat on the bed and drank. We laughed, shared fears, futures and stories with each other. Right there I felt like I had really genuinely gotten to know someone real. I honestly believed he had let me in. A few days later I couldn’t reach him, no phone, not in his room, text and email too. Nothing. I never had thought that alcohol could have been a player in this game. Could he have been buzzed everything he was with me? Skewing is perception of who I am as a person? These thoughts are still with me, 10 years later.  

With this new found time I got further into being an RA and a Senate member. Reelections came and ran again as Executive Director with two others slotted for President and Vice President. I must say we ran a pretty legit campaign for a few college students. The University of Colorado, Denver was and still is a commuter campus, the majority of students live off-campus. During the Summer or newly elected President took vacation overseas, letting us know that he would be in constant contact with the Senate during his travels. I was tasked to make improvements to the school’s constitution. After three week of attempting to communicate with Mr. President I was getting very frustrated. Dumping more and more time into SGA and less into my studies. I got the Senate behind me and I voted to Impeach him.  

The students agreed with my arguments and impeached Xavier. The Vice President requested to maintain her seat as VP and I took the position as President. I allowed the stress to get to me. I allowed it to ruin me. A few weeks later Xavier came back to what I had dome. He stood before the Senate and explained his actions. He cried in front of his peers and begged for his position back. I was shaking. I couldn’t feel my body and my emotions were spinning so fast I was dizzy. I had never thought he would come back, much less have such a dramatic return. I had to turn him away and I had to do it now face to face. This was the beginning of my break down. 

SGA meetings are always help Friday afternoons; most instructors don’t hold classes or office hours on Fridays. This allows Senate member to be in attendance and student time to visit Chambers. After this very emotional meeting I returned to my mom’s house for the weekend in Crested Butte, a four-hour trip from Denver. As far as I can remember the week end was comfortable and normal, at least until Sunday on my return to Denver.  

I drive the same route to and from Denver. There’s really only one way in and one way out. The route is mostly a two-lane highway with a couple mountain passes and valley. This was a very normal trip for me. Almost every weekend since age 15 I would love to drive my dad to the city and back over the weekends. Something went wrong with this trip. Upon my return I hit an hour mark of driving, I was through Monarch Pass and ready to take on the valleys and foothills into Denver. I closed my eyes one moment, when I opened I was traveling over 80 miles per hour in the Denver foothills. I had lost over 3 hours of my trip. What did I do? Could I have had an accident? Killed someone? It terrified me. I kept it to myself.  

Over the next few days my overall behavior began to change. I became incredibly, unexplainably, anxious about everything in life. I took shelter most of the time under the desk in my office, just hiding there…from everything. Physical symptoms of anxiety and depression became more and more a part of my life. I finally visited a campus doctor who gave me some additional insight to what may be happening.  

The doctor first asked several questions, which I answered honestly. All were questions having to do with anxiety and/or depression. He asked if I had been attending the events happening on campus, for instance the one that was happening as we were speaking. I responded, “yes.” He pointed at a can of Monster energy drink and asked, “Ever has one of these? I just drank half and I’m shaking.” I told him that I have in the past, but not today.  

At the end of the appointment he believed it to be something to do with stress, a periodic phase of depression and anxiety. He prescribed me a low dose of Prozac and Valium telling me I would like the Valium because each tab has a “V” cutout in the middle of the pill. We scheduled another appointment for a follow up in a week. 

Time goes by. I am using the Valium in a conservative and situational manner, being cautions of this benzodiazepine. The Prozac I am taking daily in the morning. Being pretty embarrassed of having this condition I keep everything pretty much to myself. At this point in the Summer my agreement/contract with dorm/employer is up. I am feeling confident about this RA thing and move to a privatized dormitory in a high-rise in Downtown Denver, just a walk across the street from campus. I immediately become an RA and move into a four bed 2 bath apartment on the 30^th floor and it’s a corner unit. An awesome way to pass those college days by. 

Time has gone by and my behavior is becoming increasingly toxic as I try adding more and more to my plate. The meeting with my doctor went as I would expect it to. No change, more stress, more medication. I’m written a higher dose of Prozac and Valium and asked to try these. I am frustrated and almost to the point of just giving up. I visit the doc again in an effort to move towards a different medication, after some research on my part of course. My doc is concerned that something else is going on a refers me to the campus psychiatrist for an immediate consult.  

I am sitting there with a psychiatrist (which I didn’t understand what they did) telling her my entire life story. Dr. Davis was her name; I will remember her very well. I explain everything up to the drive back to Denver and loosing 3 hours. That, and the fact that I spend more time under desks then over them. Dr. Davis was very sympathetic and kind, she knew somewhere I was dealing with some pain. This doc didn’t have a practice, which is a shame. Instead, Dr. Davis, working in community outreach. She gave back rather than worrying about what’s coming in.  

This was accelerated quickly. It shattered my dreams, my ego and my pride. This took me down and out. It changed me. After my story, Dr. Davis picked up the phone and dialed the number on the file. As it rang she confirmed my emergency contact information, my mom. I had a feeling of nervousness and relief at the same time. I felt like weight had been lifted off of my chest and felt my torso as I inhaled and exhaled. Dr. Davis reached the nurse she was calling and requested a direct admit to the psychiatric floor at the University of Colorado Hospital. I couldn’t breathe anymore. Thoughts run through my head. Mostly about how my father would react to all of this, frankly I didn’t know what was in store. Doc called my mom and she arrived quickly. My mom and the doctor talked for a while about what to expect and some instructions. 

I was given a few moments to gather some clothes from home that I would be comfortable in for the next three days or so. I was officially under a 72-hour psychiatric hold. My mom drove me to get clothes and then we drove directly to University Hospital.  

I don’t know what I was feeling. Maybe I was feeling nothing at all. Still trying to absorb everything that was happening in such a small window of time. All I wanted to do was be in connect with my responsibilities. I wanted to bring in my phone, my laptop, my sound simulator. I had no idea what I was going into.  

We arrived late afternoon that day and checked in with the nurse’s station via a glass shield. She buzzed us into the unit and met us on the other side of the counter to check me in. I remember the ward was in the shape of an oval. All patient rooms are on the outside with big windows with a mountain view and switch that controlled the position of the blinds. Medical offices and staff rooms were in the center. A patient friendly design in my thoughts. 

After settling in my mom and I moved to a conference room to meet my Attending Physician and three residents who would be working on the case as well. I felt so much judgement from this room. I told my story, got that over. I let them know of any symptoms, what’s bothering me, what I am fear full, why I feel depressed. This is the point where I understood they’re misunderstanding. These healthy doctors haven’t felt this pain, oh no, not like this. Back in 2007-2008 Bipolar I and II Disorder wasn’t completely understood and cared for. 

Later that evening the patients ate dinner together. After diner it’s time for evening prescriptions. Those four doctors that I met that afternoon had already created a regimen of medication that should treat me. I made my way over the the window to see what Targos had. The nurse gave my 4 little cups all full of many different types of pills. The biggest kicker in these cups was the 800mg of Seroquel, an A Typical antipsychotic and with a dose that would normally be used for a schizophrenic. 

I took what they game me and woke up two days later groggy, cloudy and with an IV in my arm. What the fuck had happened? I spent the rest of the day waking up, giving blood for test and packing the closes that I never wore. Later that afternoon I was discharged to the care of my mother. Mom took me home, my bed was read and I just slid in and fell asleep knowing everything is different now.