Hope for Healing

Yesterday was the most hopeful day I've had in a very long time.  It started out with me going to a counseling appointment.

The last counseling appointment left me in tears as the counselor questioned if this is really bipolar disorder or just depression with the mania being normal.  I was crushed.  I knew it wasn't normal; none of it is normal.  And surely it is more than depression.  I cried much of that day as I desperately wished that someone could feel what I feel and understand.  I felt hopeless.  I questioned, if this is normal, then why am I not handling it?  Why is it so hard for me and manageable for other people?  If this is normal, then do I really want to keep trying and keep going with something so awful in my life?  If this is normal, will I feel like this forever?  

I cried to my husband, begging him to believe me that this is real and that it is not normal.  I didn't have to do much begging, of course, because he knows.  He sees how much it has affected me and how hard it gets.  He held me as I sobbed telling him that I am so thankful for the Savior, because He knows.  He knows everything I feel, and He is the reason I know that I'm not alone.

I didn't know what to do.  That counseling appointment surely left me worse off than I was before I went in, but I had waited 4 months to get in, and this counselor was highly recommended by 3 different people.  I needed help, and I didn't want to wait another 4 months to get it.  So I decided that I'd stick with this counselor and hope and pray that things would get better, that she would understand how hard this is and that it is nothing near normal.

Yesterday was my second counseling appointment.  I felt so apprehensive going in.  I cried the whole way there and prayed with all my heart that I could explain things right and that she could just understand.  We started talking about my week and the mood/sleep chart she gave me to fill out.  I told her about my 3 hours of sleep one night and 1 hour of sleep another night while in "mania."  She asked me to draw out my cycles and explain them.  I drew and told her as much detail as I could.  When I got done, she said, "This definitely isn't just depression.  I think it is bipolar disorder.  I'm sorry.  I wish it wasn't."  I felt so much love from her as she sincerely expressed how she wished I didn't have to deal with this.

We continued talking, and my heart was overflowing with sorrow as I told her about how this is "ruining my life," how I value being a wife and a mom so much and how this is simply getting in my way of being what I want to be.  She was so sympathetic and understanding.  I told her that this is purely physical, not thought-related, and it's so uncontrollable, so I don't know how to manage it.  She understood, and once again expressed her sorrow for me having to face something like this.

We kept talking, until we got onto the topic of our current infertility struggles.  While discussing this, a light bulb went off in her mind.  Maybe this isn't bipolar disorder at all.  Maybe it is PMDD (premenstrual dysphoric disorder).  Apparently PMDD is often misdiagnosed in women as rapid cycling bipolar disorder.  It deals with a hormone imbalance that causes so many symptoms mirroring those of bipolar.  We continued talking, and things continued to click with her.  She explained to me that if this is PMDD, then it is treatable and totally manageable.  It's easy to control and could be better almost instantly after getting the right help.

My heart felt so much instant relief.  Maybe this won't be a part of my life forever like I've thought for the last 11 months.  Maybe my healing is coming sooner than I ever thought possible.  Maybe I will be normal again and can move on past these 11 months of pain to find light and hope and peace for my heart again.

She asked if I would mind if she brought up my situation with the board of counselors and psychiatrists at their weekly meeting.  Of course, I didn't mind at all.  She told me some things to watch for and to document, so we can figure this out quickly and find relief.

I left feeling hope, like maybe I can finally live and dream again; maybe it's all going to be okay soon; maybe this nightmare will end and I can go back to being myself.

It's going to take some time before we know if this is really what's going on or not.  While I feel a lot of excitement about this new possibility, my currently depressed mind also feels some fear of the devastation I will face if this is really bipolar and I have to continue fighting this debilitating disorder for the rest of my life, especially after seeing this ray of light and feeling this wave of hope.

Right now, I am praying that we will know more soon, that my heart will be okay with the outcome, and that if it is God's will, everything can resolve itself quickly.