Bipolar, Abba (Father) and My Inner Child: (A Journal)

About Magdalen Preast

Magdalen Preast is my pen-name. [Due to family's consent they do not wish themselves to be exposed to the public, which I find acceptable.]

I was born in Hayward, Texas to John and Maria Tyker. My father and mother had five children together. My oldest brother Anthony whom I did not know died at the age of thirteen doing an exercise which later was abolished by the school he had attended. Next is my sister Teresa who became a nurse when she got older. Following Teresa was Mark who worked for the railroad. Next down the line is my sister Katherine who became fascinated with architecture when she became an adult. And finally I was brought into the world by Abba. [My mother told me that after I was born a hurricane blew in and I was bitten numerous times by mosquitoes. She was very worried about my health but when she checked up on me she noticed that my hands were clasped together in prayer. Later on she took me to the doctor to make sure that I would recuperate. She told the doctor about me praying and she asked him what kind of strange child I was? He replied simply that I was special.]

My childhood had many sorrows in it. Around the age of eleven my father passed away from cancer. My brother Mark died in his early twenties the year after my father. The morning of my sister Teresa's wedding my stomach began hurting really bad. The pain was so sharp that I violently began throwing up more and more until feces came up out of me. Teresa knew somehow deep inside that she should call off the wedding because she felt that my sudden illness was a sign. The devil attacked Teresa's mind by telling her that I would be fine and just go and carry on with the wedding. When my mom and Teresa came back to check on me I looked deathly ill, and I was taken to a doctor. I was then admitted into a hospital where I had to undergo intestinal surgery. Apparently if the surgery had not taken place when it did I would have died of poisoning. About nine months later I had to have another surgical procedure because I had adhesions on my intestines from the first time around. Ten years later Teresa divorced her husband because he mentally and psychically abused her. Who would have known what the future would have brought? But Abba made everything right and now Teresa is married to a wonderful man who loves her passionately.

In 1975 I married Lee Preast and we have two children together named Luke and Claire. In October of 2001, after years of suffering from depression from my child-hood, the family doctor I was seeing switched me to a different anti-depressant, which then made me manic. In the psychiatric hospital I was diagnosed with bi-polar 1 with psychotic features. Years later after seeing a nurse practitioner I was also diagnosed with P.T.S.D., Seasonal Affective Disorder otherwise known as S.A.D., and an anxiety disorder. Previously I never had shown any signs of being mentally ill. I was just depressed from the traumatic events that had happened in my life as a young child.

Bi-polar disorder normally runs on the mother's side of the family but there was no trace as far as the family knew of anyone showing signs of any mental illness. I was the first one who did. According to statistics my chance of getting bi-polar disorder was 1% of the population.

When I first went into full blown mania I became someone entirely different. I thought I was in charge of the universe and could save the world no matter what kind of mess it was in. My mind was racing constantly and my body simply could not keep up with it. Being hospitalized was the worst for me because then I was truly alone. None of my belongings were there in the sterile environment and I really didn't know anyone. I did meet other patients in the hospital, but they were all mentally off-balance because they had tried their best to survive in the outside world. My main outlet was to color picture after picture until finally I could be released. When I got out of the hospital I was mentally tormented by Satan about all of the things I had done when I was in the state of mania. Abba put it on my heart that the things I had done were not intentional but Satan kept dragging me down telling me that all of it was my fault. My counselor told me that it is just part of the illness. I try to accept the fact that the extreme way I acted was inevitable but it still comes back to haunt me off and on. But don't you let that get you down because that is where Satan wants you. Be kind and gentle to yourself. Fall in love with yourself because that is what Abba is all about and after all He truly does live inside of you. Just believe and the magic will begin!

I love you all,

Magdalen

The Beginning Story of my mental illness

This book is written as a journal about part of my life experiences with bi-polar 1 disorder. I was diagnosed in October of 2001 after my family doctor changed my anti-depressant. He started me out on a sample packet and after a couple of days into taking the pills I suddenly flipped and turned into someone that did not exist before.

My husband Lee was terrified and took me back to our family doctor. When I got into see him I remember announcing that I was god and was going to save the world. I believe he knew what was wrong with me because he told Lee that I needed to be admitted to a psychiatric hospital.

After taking me back home, one of our close friends from church who used to be a counselor came over and helped Lee find one of the psychiatric hospitals that would take me in. While they were trying to get a hold of the hospitals, I just knew that they wouldn't find anyone who would admit me, because after all I was god. But I was wrong and finally they talked to a hospital that had a bed available and Lee took me straight over there.

Lee was very worried about me and didn't really know what to think about the whole situation. How could someone at one point be normal and at the next, turn into a person that they have never known before? I really didn't care about the whole situation because I was in my own little world someplace else and nothing bothered me. My main thought was to have a good time with this new person that I had become because now I was famous and was in charge of everything. Ha-ha-ha!

When Lee and I finally arrived at the hospital we got out of the car and Lee took my arm as we went into the building. While he was trying to fill out paperwork and check me in, I was looking at all of the psychiatrists on the wall in their picture frames and I pointed to the exact one that I knew would be mine. Needless to say this time I was right.

Lee and I were then escorted into a small room where we had to wait for some lady to interview me. When she came in she started asking me questions. I reacted like there was nothing wrong and answered her questions politely. Then she turned to Lee and started saying that he was probably the one who needed to be admitted because he was suffering from depression. After I heard that I really got angry and started hollering at the lady. That is what she was waiting for, and she got just the right reaction that she wanted to prove that I needed to be admitted, because there was something mentally wrong with me.

The next thing I remember is that Lee and I were walking down a hallway and some lady asked us to sit down and fill out a questionnaire which I found to be abnormal. How ridiculous can one be if a person rightfully out of their mind should have to endure taking bubble sheet tests?

Anyway I took the sheet and started writing stupid remarks all over it and passed it back to her. If I was looking at me through Lee's eyes I would have been beside myself not knowing what to do and wondering where my spouse's mind had gone to.

After the test some lady checked me over and I got mad at her and tried to hit her. Lee calmed me down because he was aware that they would put me in hand-cuffs if I didn't straighten out. After that my mind draws a blank. I can remember seeing the psychiatrist and he gave me anxiety so I didn't want to answer his questions. Next I was put on some medication to stop my psychotic behavior. A couple of days later the psychiatrist saw me again and I answered some of his questions although I was still scared of him. I was put on a mood-stabilizer and before you knew it, five days had passed and I was sent home.

I still wasn't back to my old self when I got home. However I do recall running really fast down our five acre pasture thinking that I was superman, and I could fly with the wind under my feet. Lee and Claire, our daughter, watched me out of the kitchen window and Claire asked why I was running since I had never done that in the past. Lee just laughed and said that I would wear myself out eventually and come back into the house.

Next thing you know I was sponge painting the white shelves bright purple in our pantry. Lee went along with it as long as I wasn't totally out of line. After doing that I wanted to re-arrange the spice cabinet. Some people just have a spice rack but I was the type of person who never checked to see if I had a certain spice for cooking before I went shopping to the grocery store and just went and bought another container although I probably didn't even need it.

Anyway, all of the spices were taken down from the three shelves, and I started sorting and filling ones that were half way empty and throwing the old ones away. After a while I got tired of doing it and left the project sitting there on the counter-top. Talk about a mess that a racing mind can do!

Well that was the beginning of my life with bi-polar 1 illness but do please read on and you might enjoy what a person journals about when they are going in and out of a hypo-manic high.

My love is with all,

Magdalen Preast

Debunking Stigma:

What is stigma?

In my own thoughts it is ignoring an individual or group of individuals who have a mental condition or some other ailment where they are treated as outcasts, and do not fit into what society sees as socially acceptable. To debunk it means to get rid of what others think and feel about us as a whole.

In my opinion stigma has given the mentally ill a bad reputation in life. With stigma, people tend to hide their illnesses and not speak up because then they would not fit into the normality of what the world defines.

I find that a rather harsh way to accept individuals for who they are. Just as one must not be judged by the cover of a book, one also must not be judged by any ailment, disfigurement or anything else that gives the sense that they don't fit in.

The point I am trying to make is that everyone fits in no matter their status, their looks, their position, their degrees, their wealth, their job, etc. I am not, and neither are you a walking illness that should be ignored by society. We are people who just have in some way or another been blessed with compassion for ourselves and for others who also suffer from a mental illness.

I say, Why don't we tear down all of the walls and give everyone an equal chance in life!

In the end, we are created by the Great Creator who is Abba, (Father, Son, Holy Spirit, Higher Power), whichever works for you. In closing on this topic we are all part of one creation and therefore we at some point in time all inter-act, and that inter-action should be one of Love. When the world ends and all is said and done then acceptance and unconditional love will come to be, but I pray that it happens before then.

Respectfully Yours

Magdalen

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder

P.T.S.D.

P.T.S.D. or (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) is just what it says it is. A horrible event happens such as mental, verbal or physical abuse, a tragic death of a loved one, serious illness, loss of a job or a home, a loss of one's limbs, etc. P.T.S.D. can eventually ruin your life if you do not get counseling to help you with it.

In my case my P.T.S.D. started when I was eight years old and was molested in our church of all places by a Hispanic man dressed in his Sunday suit for Mass.

My middle sister Katherine was playing the pipe organ upstairs in the choir loft at our church when it happened. One of my favorite things to do at Mass was to go up into the choir loft and be able to look over the whole congregation. It always amazed me how many people were in the church. It was such an exciting thing to do when I was little.

Anyway, as I was coming down the staircase it had a turn in it that stopped at a landing. The man apparently had been watching me as I went up the staircase and was waiting just below the