Work In Progress--Stay Tuned for more of my story

My first experience with depression occurred in 1997.  The previous year I had graduated from the University of Alabama in Birmingham. After looking for employment for awhile, I went to work for the Birmingham Public Library. I had worked there previously as a work-study student. Anyhow, I started working at the Avondale Regional Library in July of 1996. Working at Avondale was overall a good experience for me. I would say that the whole thing was a good experience but later on down the road I would face some big obstacles that would change my life forever. 

Between July of 1996 to December 1996 I worked as a Page in the Avondale Adult Department.  I worked as a page for six months. My supervisor at the time was David. All the folks at Avondale were really good to me; that is the people who used to work there in 1996. In December 1996, I was promoted to part time library assistant. I changed supervisors at this time. My new supervisor was Darlene. She was wonderful to me. She was nice and caring towards me; like a mother. I was doing well for awhile, but things seem to change when you least predict them.

In April 1997, on Easter Sunday, my dad had to be taken to the emergency room. He was having severe chest pains. This was the beginning of a nightmare for me and my family.  My family has always had some sort of financial problems. I don't know what they did wrong, other than having four children. I guess just bad money management on their part. My dad was admitted for tests that day.  From tests, we learned that my dad was going to have to have open heart surgery. This was really scary for the whole family. I was upset but I couldn't tell my mom or anyone that I was upset because I had to be strong for her and help her.  At this time my mom was the only one that worked. My dad had retired from the postal service in 1993, I believe. My mom also worked for the postal service. Anyway, she stayed with him around the clock, which left me to care for my two brothers and sister; which wasn't that easy.  After he left the hospital, she took off from work so she could spend some time with him as he recovered.  My dad doesn't tell my mom about the finances. When he got sick, she was totall in the dark about how we were financially. Their car finally gave out in May so they had to start depending on me for transportation. I felt really stressed and pressured .

The stress had already been working on my nerves for a few months.  A few months before my dad's surgery, I was beginning to notice something different about myself. It scared me because I had no idea what I was dealing with. The mood swings scared me.  I was crying all the time. I was wanting to sleep all the time. I stayed locked up in my room whenever I was not working. At the time I was only working part time for the library. That was also a stressor because I desperately needed a full time job.  I really pushed myself at work. I would stay well beyond the time that I was scheduled to be there. There were days that I would just go and sit in the staff lounge and stay there for awhile, after my shift had ended. One day after I was scheduled to get off, I lingered around for awhile. I did everything that I could do to prolong my stay there. Darlene asked me if I didnt' want to go home. I started crying.  She took me outside to talk. I couldn't stop crying. Now, looking back, I realize that I was slowly breaking down mentally. At the time, I really could not tell you what was wrong with me. I can't remember all the details of what happened. I cried all the time. At home I isolated myself from everyone else. My concentration was terrible. Darlene told me that the library had a resource called the Employee Assistance Program. The next day she gave me a card with telephone numbers on it.  I called and set up an appointment to see a counselor.  I remember my first visit with the counselor. I told her everything that I could about what was going on. I cried a lot.  I went to see her for a few months before she told me that she thought I had depression and that I needed to see a psychiatrist.  I hated the thought of having to see a psychiatrist. It meant that I had a mental illness. I just thought that I was just imagining everything that was going on and blowing things way out of proportion. Anyway, the therapist at the EAP found a psychiatrist for me that would be covered under my insurance.

The first time that I went to see Dr. Daw, it took about two hours. The first hour I spent with a social worker describing to her  what has been going on. After that, I went back to the waiting room to wait for Dr. Daw to see me. I liked Dr. Daw from the very beginning. At last I found someone who could possibly help me be normal again.  For the first year I was in and out of the hospital. The first time I went into the hospital was in April 1998. I stayed for about a week. My meds were adjusted during this time and after leaving the hospital I went to a three week partial hospitalization program.  At this time I was working two jobs. I worked days and weekends at Avondale and at night I worked at the Post Office. The work wasn't very hard at either place but it was very tiring since I worked from 10 at night to four in the morning. Most of the time the post office would let us leave early so I was able to get home and get some sleep. But even with that I didn't get much sleep. Sometimes I had to be at Avondale at 9:00 a.m. At other times it was later in the day.  The first hospitalization helped somewhat but obviously not enough since I went back in several more times that year. I hated what it did to my parents. After the first full night there my parents came to see me. Well, at least my dad. My dad told me that my mom was too upset to see me. I hated how this effected them. They were blaming themselves and it just tore me up because I didn't want them to think that way. I felt like a failure to everyone. I was off work for about a month. During the time I was off I decided to resign from the Postal Service. It was just dragging me down and although I needed the extra money I knew it wasn't worth risking my health. 

After the first hospitalization, everything is a blur. I believe I went into the hospital again in June. I was at work and I had taken 4-6 Xanax. I called my counseler at the Employee Assistance Service and I told her what I did and she wanted me to go to the hospital. Well, I told her I wouldn't so she asked to speak to my supervisor. Well, my supervisor and a coworker took me to the hospital. I guess I should feel really lucky that they didn't fire me. My stomach was pumped at the hospital and I was admitted.