Kitt O’Malley (Guest) · 03:03
Well, my story begins when I was an 18-year-old biochemistry major at UCLA. University of California at Los Angeles. It's a big school, like, you know, University of Melbourne would be a big school. So, um, anyway, I was a biochemistry major and, um, my whole life I wanted to be a doctor and was a very high achiever and worked very, very hard to get good grades to do what I was doing. And, um, and I— but I was depressed. I was severely depressed and suicidal. I was in so much— it was basically a living hell. I was in so much darkness that I thought that the world would be a better place without me. I thought my parents would be better off without me. I felt like I was a burden. I felt like— and, and those were just— and I've heard those sort of thoughts from a lot of other people who suffered from depression. It's just depression lies, and it's horrible. In the way in which it lies and the pain it puts people through. So I thankfully got help. I reached out to a friend, well, to my friends, but at this particular crisis point, I reached out to a friend I had. I was in a crisis where I actually had a suicide note and means to kill myself and I had plans and And I just all of a sudden, I sort of stepped aside, outside myself and observed what I was doing and went, oh no, this is not just thoughts anymore. You're actually going to carry this out. And I knew that my desire to live was stronger than that. And so I went and I called for my friend to stay with me until I got into a good psychiatrist or psychologist that day. I went to my resident assistant in the dormitory and said, please get me in to see someone. You know, the resident assistants help the students in the dorms. And so she got me into somebody who was very helpful, and that helped me a lot. You know, I didn't tell my parents because I was ashamed. I felt I was a failure because of this. I ended up quitting UCLA and later transferring up to UC, University of California, Berkeley, and continued my 20s, you know, from then 18 through my 20s, going to psychotherapy to cope with my, what was then a chronic depression, not as severe, but I lived with it. I even became a psychotherapist in my mid-20s. And then when I was 30, I had a severe depressive episode. And, um, at that time I couldn't even get out of bed. And I called up my parents at that point and I said, I can't even get out of bed. This is just so overwhelming. It's so heavy. You know, I felt it physically. And they said, why don't you go to your doctor and try medication? You know, because if, if therapy isn't helping you right now, maybe what you need is medication. And it was very— something very physical I was feeling. And so I, um, went to my doctor and I took, um, she prescribed me the first generation SSRI. That's a serotonin reuptake inhibitor. It was Prozac. And then I had side effects of that, so she prescribed another medication to counteract the side effects. And then my parents said, well, this is just my general physician, this wasn't a psychiatrist. He said, why don't you see a psychiatrist for a second opinion. And he took me off those medications and put me on what's called a tricyclic antidepressant, and I had a reaction to that, and I became manic. And I had a week-long full-blown manic episode where I was— wasn't able to sleep. I was just taking catnaps in the middle of the day. I, I was up all night. I was thinking my head streaming, speeding thoughts, uh, about in binary, which is zeros and ones. So I had zeros and ones going through my head, and I wasn't a computer, so I couldn't interpret them. That's how computers think. I had thoughts of Christian mystic saints, which I had some familiarity with and was fascinated by. And I had thoughts about chaos theory, which is mathematics and physics, which I wasn't an expert in or knowledgeable about really. And so I just was observing these thoughts thinking, wow, this is fascinating. I wish I could understand them. They're going so fast. And finally, after a week, a friend of mine called my parents and said, Kit needs your help. She's— and she told them what was going on. So my dad flew up and she called my priest in my church and she said, Kit needs your help now. And so before my dad got there, the priest brought a seminarian who had bipolar disorder and they came over, um, and sat with me and encouraged me to call my psychiatrist, which I did. And I described what was going on and he gave me, um, antipsychotics to stop the psychotic thought process, which it did. Um, but that was a huge changing point in my life. Um, I— my brain had to recover from that. Um, I wasn't— I tried to go back to just taking a temp job, a temporary job, and I wasn't— when I drove, I, uh, would fall asleep. When I tried to read the words, the letters in a sentence would go apart. The words— I mean, the letters in a word would go apart. The words in a sentence would go apart. I couldn't hold things together enough to even read. And here I was, somebody who had a master's degree. I was highly educated and I couldn't read. Um, and I realized I wasn't able to work. I needed to take time off to to have my brain heal, basically. I moved back in with my parents. I continued to get treatment where they lived in Southern California and actually got excellent treatment. It helped me a lot. But I wasn't— even though I'd had this manic episode, I wasn't at that point in time diagnosed bipolar. They thought it was just a reaction to the medication. And because I'd been functional before that and not had an episode like that before. They said, let's just treat you as if you have the chronic depression that you'd been treated for before and just be very careful with my medication. So I was carefully titrated up to a dose. Um, and then, um, so I lived with, on antidepressants and in psychotherapy throughout my 30s, um, until I was married and had a— in fact, I met my husband right after that breakdown. Here I was working as a temp, living with my parents, and one of our first dates, my husband says to me, you are the most independent woman I ever met. And I was just like, are you kidding? I'm living with my parents. I'm a former psychotherapist who's now working as a file clerk. And he's like, no, seriously, you are. So what is so important there, and I think it's an important first thing for people to understand about mental health conditions, about mental illness, is that people are more than their symptoms or their circumstances. And he could see that. He saw who I was as a person. He saw into my soul rather than into my circumstances of that I was in a crisis or that I had an illness. Um, or brain disorder, or whatever you want to consider, uh, what I was going through. So I, at 39— by then we were married, and where was I, 39? Yeah, I think I was 39. We were married and we had a, a toddler, and I, um, started to have euphoric feelings. And, um, we— I had feelings that God was calling me to one church for spiritual direction and to another church for, um, Bible study. And although my behavior was fine, there was nothing wrong with going for spiritual direction or going to Bible study. I wasn't— it wasn't like the mania that I had had before, but still I recognized that euphoria, like, uh-oh, danger sign. That reminds me of of that mania. And so I called the advice nurse on my insurance card on the back of it, and I had my husband get on the phone. I said, please listen, I want you to understand how serious this is. And I explained to her my symptoms and she said, go to an emergency room or see a psychiatrist today. So I wasn't able to get in to see a psychiatrist. It was a Friday, so I wasn't able to get in to see a psychiatrist. But, um, and I didn't want to go to an emergency room because I know that that meant that I'd be hospitalized, and I, I just wasn't ready to be hospitalized at that point. And so, um, I went to my doctor, my regular doctor. I scheduled an appointment on Monday to see a psychiatrist and saw my regular doctor that day, and had— she put me on some, uh, mood stabilizers to get me through the weekend. Um, now I was still nursing my son, my toddler son, at that time. And those medications, like the antidepressants I was taking, was safe to be in breast milk because it was a very low level in the serum level. But the mood stabilizer was a big no-no. So I had to figure out a way to abruptly wean my son. And I have another little wonderful story of my husband. Um, and why— and I will say, in terms of for anyone with chronic health conditions, especially for people with mental health conditions, having a supportive family and support system, you know, a strong support system, is huge. So my son didn't believe that Mommy wasn't going to come home that— because I— we, we decided— I would— with the doctor, we decided I would go to my parents for the weekend. Just to be— we did wean him, and that was our agreement. You know, we had to like make an agreement with the doctor that I wasn't going to breastfeed my son on this med. So he insisted— my son insisted on sitting at the driveway, you know, because— and wait for Mommy to come home. And then my husband started to drizzle rain, so my husband talked him into going underneath the eave. And then he talked him into going on the front door porch, and then, and then on the stairs, and then up the stairs, and then into bed, until finally he fell asleep looking at the open front door. So it was just sweet that he was— my husband was always very sensitive with him. So that began my journey with dealing with the fact that I had bipolar disorder. Um, and, um, and since then I've, um, at first, at first it was actually a very painful thing because I had been trained as a therapist. I had an internalized bias, an internalized stigma about the difference between living with depression and living with a diagnosis of bipolar disorder. I thought that I could be a good mom if I had depression. But here, all of a sudden, just my label and medications changed. I was the same person. I was the same mother, but I feared for my son. I thought, oh no, this is a serious mental illness. It's progressive. I, I could be violent, you know, I'm, I'm not going to be a good mom. And I put him in daycare and went back to work. Actually, because I was so afraid for his safety. Um, but that wasn't sustainable. I wasn't able to take care of myself, work, and then come home and be a mom. It just— it was too much. And I, I actually ended up, after a couple of years, um, being voluntarily hospitalized. Um, and, uh, and then after the 2 weeks of hospitalization, I did called partial hospitalization. You might also think of it as like day treatment. I would go to the hospital for an outpatient treatment all day, like a job. You go to groups all day and then go home at night. Um, and I did that for a few months. Um, and then I ended up staying home from then on. And as it turns out, my son needed me at home. He turned out to be struggling himself. He had ADHD and anxiety and depression. Um, and, um, he really needed me. And actually, as when I was a therapist, I was a therapist of children and adolescents. So actually I had a skill set that I was able to help him with these things. And of course got him into therapy. I got him into therapy when he was 4 and into psychiatry when he was 5 because his symptoms weren't helped by therapy. Um, and he's doing very well now. So early intervention for him helped. He struggled a lot growing up, but, um, he's now a college student, um, and living on his own. Um, and, uh, I mean, we pay for the bills, but he's living on his own. Basically, after this, after my hospitalization, One interesting thing is that after the hospitalization, my psychologist I was seeing at the time said, you keep on talking about call, like calling. So let's talk about that a little bit, because it was a theme of mine even when I was in my 20s and kept on going, but it never made sense to me because I wasn't a real churchy person. I wasn't churched growing up. And so I, I, I decided to go to seminary to answer the call. And when I was in seminary, it became clear that I had a call to mental health ministry. And so even though I do this as a, as a volunteer, as an individual, and also as a volunteer for the United States nonprofit called National Alliance on Mental Illness. From my local affiliate. I'm— so I don't do it through a church right now, but still I consider it like something, a God thing, a purpose thing, you know what I mean? It's like, it's like I either, either you can think of it as me reframing and making use of my experience and my journey to help others, or that I was given this disorder to purpose me to do this and to help others. Um, and so by sharing my story or by volunteering, um, so I, um, yeah, so it took, I mean, it took a while to come to that realization. It's sort of like, it's easy to look in retrospect as somebody who's now 59 and go Oh, everything makes sense in my life. It didn't make sense when I was going through it. When I was going through it, it was painful. It was horrible. It was awful. But not all, not my whole life, obviously. But now going back, so much that I went through makes sense. Now I can have understanding and compassion that is deeper than it would be if I hadn't have gone through this.