Have you ever looked back on your life wondering what would happen if things had gone another way if you had the knowledge that you have now back then, what would you do? For me, there are too many things I want to change in my past, but I would never take back the fact that I am a survivor of Bipolar And Borderline Personality Disorder as well as Anxiety. I deal with these personal struggles on a daily basis, and it has framed the mature adult me. Someone I, myself can respect. I am thankful to have gone through every up and down, twist and turn. It is true, there really ain’t no mountain high enough.
Hi, my name is Kylee Sawyer and I am a 25-year-old mother of two beautiful girls, a wife to an amazing husband who’s struggling with the everyday battle of Bipolar, Boarder line personality disorder as well as anxiety. Every day has its new struggles and its new accomplishments.
At 16 I had read online after seeing my idol Britney Spears go through a breakdown, in an unsettling way I could relate, all the partying, stealing and using people for money and rides. I’d use guys and make them think they were My everything and get everything I wanted and then crush them as soon as I got bored or was interested in someone else, I didn’t care I was heartless. I would stay up all night getting stoned and pretty much not giving a shit what I did. I’d spend money like I was a millionaire when things were bad I’d started snapping at people, sleeping all day and night and refusing to eat. I became paranoid with my boyfriend at the time, who was he talking to? What was he planning? Where was he going? I’d snoop through his pictures and contacts. It became very overwhelming and it took a lot to handle. I would break up and get back together with this abusive guy because I was lonely and felt like who I was I deserved that bad of a person. It all hit once I sat there and read the symptoms. I turned to my gramma (whom I was living with) and said gramma I think I am bipolar. My gramma turned to me and said “well depression runs in the family. I have depression, your aunty has it so does your damn mother.” I was in total shock. I took a breather and had a smoke. Calmed down and went outside to make a phone call to my family doctor. But as soon as the phone started to ring I hung up. I’m just over reacting. I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m okay. I ignored it.
It took me until I was 24 to finally find out the genetic gene had come from my dad, who to this day denies having Bipolar and Borderline Personality Disorder. I never knew my dad, I just knew of him but my mom was very quiet when it came to him, amongst other things. I didn’t really get to know my dad until I was 17 when he had asked me for a DNA test, then the truth had come out, my mom had told everyone else I was someone else’s kid. Until I was about 2 years old and I started getting my facial features she finally came clean but my dad had nothing to do with it. We had the DNA test done and I had mentioned to him that I think I am Bipolar, he went off on a ramble saying it’s not real, it doesn’t exist, change your life style, that was the last we ever talked about that subject. When the test came back positive that I was his child that was the last I heard of him. When he found out I was pregnant with my oldest daughter she started coming around and trying to help out, sorry he promised he’d help out, he never did. He was in and out and could never make up his mind on whether or not he wanted to be in my life. It was routine every 6 months to a year he would contact me or try to make an effort and when he didn’t like how I lived he’d leave saying I carry too much drama around me. At the age of 24 after being married to my husband for 3 years my dad finally started to make an effort, but he himself wouldn’t tell me personally that he suffers really bad from these disorders, I had to hear it from his girlfriend and he doesn’t like admitting it. I also found out that my aunts on my dad’s side also suffer from the exact same disorder as well. At last, I have made a connection. Knowing where you come from and the little details that build you as a person, it’s another piece of the puzzle that frames who you are.
I wasn’t fully diagnosed as bipolar until I was 19 when I had found out I was pregnant with Taya, if I knew what I know now, I wish every day I would have been diagnosed sooner, because then maybe I could have fought the biggest battles of my life with a better piece of mind. Lithium and Valproic Acid, Pristiq as well as Effexor and Risperidone and Seroquel are all the medications I’ve been on since I was 19.
I was on Seroquel for only a brief period of time. My oldest daughter was only a few months old when I was put on 150mg. We had gone to Saskatoon for the weekend and I had taken the pill in the morning at around 8-9, left around 10 and not even 45 minutes on the road I was passed out. Once we got there I was revived and full of energy. So I went on with my day. By 5 pm that night I went downstairs with Taya and laid on the bed with her because she was cranky. I don’t remember a thing after that, I wake up an hour later to my cousins standing in the door way yelling at me and Taya is just screaming and I heard nothing. They had said they were outside for probably 45 minutes to an hour and that whole time Taya was crying. So they came down to see if I needed help. Well, here I was TKO and oblivious to the world. Once I finally woke up My cousin had suggested to stay off this prescription because I can’t fully be there for my tiny daughter. Once we got back to Regina I had an appointment with my doctor and she had put me on valproic acid. And I was completely fine. Or so I thought. I had been on 75mg of Valproic Acid for a few months and had been doing good. Mentally. But in the real world, I was struggling with being a new mom, my relationship with my daughter’s biological dad was going down the drain.
One morning I woke up and felt like I had lost everything. I wasn’t me, I didn’t know who this person was in the mirror. My boyfriend didn’t trust me, always called me a whore and a cheater. So if anything I was those things. You hear it so many times you start believing it. It gets under your skin and cocoons you in a new lining. Someone you’re not. I sat there thinking of all the possible ways I could deal with this feeling. With this utter failure feeling I had. I didn’t do hard drugs, I had dabbled with ecstasy before back in high school. But that wouldn’t cure me. Smoking a joint wouldn’t help. Cutting was just out of the question. I’m a wimp and I would never be ever to handle that. I stood up looked around that basement suite living room and walked straight into the bathroom. I grabbed my boyfriends Schick Quattro razor with the trimmer on the end of it. And looked at this woman, this girl in my mirror and couldn’t stand who I was looking back at. I grabbed my hair and held it back and started shaving my head. I got angry. My whole body was on fire. The pain the anger was just fuelled up inside me and was ready to blow. All of a sudden I felt this shock on my hands and I jumped looked down and here the razor was broken. It exploded. Apparently your not supposed to shave a head full of hair with this tiny little trimmer. I looked in the mirror and half my head was shaved. My hair laying on the floor. I looked up and this person still wasn’t me. I stormed out and looked everywhere for a pair of scissors. Finally found a pair. Went back into the bathroom looked at this failure in the mirror and just started hacking my hair off. Once I was done my hair was a mess. Half of it gone and the rest just this big hack job. I placed the scissors on the sink, cleaned up the hair all over the floor then laid on the couch and just cried. This wasn’t me. This isn’t what I wanted to become.
I spent the rest of the day not wanting to move. Not wanting to do anything. Then my cousin came downstairs. Had seen the trimmer and scissors looked at me weird and walked upstairs. It wasn’t till later that night I started feeling better. Taya was up from her nap and I wanted to be around people so I went upstairs. As soon as I did my cousin lifted up my hat and looked at me in shock. I knew I had gone too far, I felt so embarrassed, so hurt. I shrugged it off like it was no biggie. Yeah, I shaved my head. Look at me. The next Britney.
I put myself through hell, I put myself in danger. And I did not care. I put myself in an abusive relationship because I thought that this guy would come around, I spent money that wasn’t mine, I put responsibilities on my shoulders that I couldn’t handle. I took it all in as it would come and finally I broke. Now from 10 years ago, I’m a totally different person. I’m currently on Effexor and Risperidone, I take them daily. I am very vocal about how I feel and what’s going on in my mind, my husband has a lot to with being open. He sits and listens to me, is holds me when I’m breaking down in tears. He’s my biggest support. I see mental health every 3 weeks and openly call my worker when I need her or if I’m struggling. My husbands family are the family I always wanted. The close family, the ones which openly talk about what they are going through and how they feel. I can finally be me, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted. Is to be who I really am, not someone that others think I am. When I had read on Facebook that Bipolar Digest was asking for others stories I needed to jump on that. I needed to tell my story and writing this story has helped me get a lot of my chest and feel at peace, And I hope that there are others out there who read this know they aren’t alone.
Thank you for reading my story.
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