“I woke up to a giant spider crawling on my wall.”

My story with Bipolar 1 begins in October 2021. I was attending college at the time. It was almost impossible to concentrate and stay on top of all my work. I had never struggled in school before this, and I didn’t understand why I was having such a hard time.

I was starting to experience weird thoughts. The most common and frequent was that people were reading my mind. I was finding myself getting extremely depressed most days. I had to fight myself to get out of bed, let alone to classes. I was confused and struggling. Then, the worst weekend of my life hit.

On October 15, a Friday, I only slept for a few hours. I was desperately trying to get on top of my school work, and fighting the strange thoughts became harder. On Saturday, I started feeling weird and disconnected from myself. I spent all day doing more homework. Around 3:00 pm, I gave up and watched TV for the rest of the day. I didn’t have the energy to do anything else.

Around 10:00 that night, an intense psychotic episode hit. I was 100% convinced that people were reading my mind. I decided I needed to text my best friend. She was my roommate at the time, but she was away for the weekend. I texted her to let her know that I was normal. She was a little confused and started asking me some questions. My answers didn’t make sense and were all over the place. I started saying things that startled her.

“Is Rachel real?” (Rachel was one of our roommates)

“Are you trying to read my thoughts? Are you in my mind?”

“God is speaking to me.”

“They are afraid of the lights. You scared them away.”

“Are you going to come home as yourself?”

At this point, she had contacted our other roommate to let her know I was acting weird. I started hallucinating, and the delusions were getting worse. I refused to talk to anyone unless it was through text.

My roommate stayed up with me and tried to make me feel comfortable. She helped me become a bit more stable. At that point, I knew something was very wrong. Luckily, I was not hallucinating anymore. I still felt disconnected, fuzzy, and still was not talking. However, that night I kept waking up to hallucinations. I woke up to a girl standing over me and watching me sleep. Another time, I woke up to a giant spider crawling on my wall. I didn’t get any sleep after that.

On Sunday, I went to my church service while still in the middle of psychosis. I was also running on about 3 hours of sleep in 72 hours. The lack of sleep made it worse. I walked out in the middle of the meeting to hide in the bathroom. I didn’t know what was real and what was a hallucination. My roommate came to find me and took me back to our apartment. When we got back, I called my mom. I was saying all the same weird stuff to her. I kept telling her that I was normal through sobs. On Monday, she came to withdraw me from school and help me meet with a professional.

I am lucky to attend a university that offers free counseling. We were able to schedule an emergency meeting with one of the school counselors. She said I was suffering from a psychotic break. As a psychology major, I knew how serious it was. I felt so scared, alone, and ashamed. I was still running on almost no sleep and was more tired than ever. We also met with a university psychiatric nurse practitioner. During this meeting, I only remember sobbing the entire time and that all I wanted was to sleep. He was able to prescribe Seroquel to help me get some sleep. Over the next few days, I  caught up on sleep in the comfort of my own home.

I hardly remember anything from the months following my psychotic break. I remember the hospital visits, the psychotic features, and other symptoms. Other than that, I don’t recall much. My family told me stories of my behavior during this time. I was talking fast, in a high-pitched voice, louder and more than usual. I seemed to be so hyper. I remember my thoughts were always racing and were so loud. It was almost impossible for me to concentrate. It felt like I was thinking about multiple things at the same time. These are all symptoms of a manic episode.

During these months, my family noticed I started having seizure-like attacks. We thought I had epilepsy. I had an MRI, a couple of spinal taps, and multiple EEGs. They all came back normal. I was prescribed different medications and diagnosed with many things over this time. The worst medicine I took was called Depakote. It helped me stay stabilized for about three days a week. However, the side effects were awful. Because of the Depakote, I was experiencing more seizure-like attacks, liver problems, etc. The neurologist finally ruled my attacks as psychogenic seizures. Psychogenic seizures are attacks that are not a result of electrical abnormalities in the brain; instead, they are due to psychological distress. After that diagnosis, they took me off of all medications and suggested I see a psychiatrist.

At this point, I remember becoming very depressed. I wasn’t getting any better, and my world was burning down around me. I remember one moment when I was sobbing, and I couldn’t stop. I had lost all control of my emotions, and I was overwhelmed by everything happening. During this depressive episode, I also experienced catatonia twice. I was in such a dark place that my body completely shut itself down. It was terrifying. I couldn’t move or talk no matter how hard I tried. I was hallucinating different things during those episodes. This experience was almost as bad as psychosis, if not worse.

I was able to meet with a psychiatrist towards the end of February. He diagnosed me with Bipolar 1. At first, I was confused by this and did not believe it. After researching, I realized that I didn’t have a correct understanding of the disorder before. I noticed that a lot of the symptoms matched my experiences. I was prescribed Seroquel (again) at a higher dose, and it has been my miracle drug.

I consider my journey a blessing and a curse. Since my diagnosis, I have become more understanding of those who struggle with mental illness. It has allowed me to help others and spread awareness about mental illness. Above all, I learned that mental illness does not determine who you are. If you are struggling: you are not crazy, alone, or broken. You are valid, stronger than you think, and you can get through this.