This journey started about 15 months ago, I believe the separating from my wife and losing 100% custody of my kids fired me into a downward spiral. I was to become homeless, as I have no family here in New Zealand, they all live back home in England and were in no position to help out. So back to going homeless, I was lucky that our landlord for the family home gave me a good reference and was able to source me a tidy two bedroom unit in the city which suited my needs perfect, plus I could have the kids stay with me. I was in a euphoric mood and full of energy, it was great.
Fast forward 3 months (January) and I have still that elated mood, I have spend thousands of dollars over the past few months, maxing out credit cards and store cards without a care in the world. Who was going to pay the bill? I thought I was going to win the lotto so I never cared, just kept spending.
Fast forward to June and I am so heavily in debt I had to go bankrupt. That sucked, I lost everything, all my savings and any good credit history I had build up. Again, mentally I was high. I still craved material things and wanted them now more than ever.
My mind was now a complete mess and it started putting thoughts in my head to start selling stuff that wasn’t mind, yes theft and I am so embarrassed and ashamed of what I did over a period of 6 months it kills me inside. I lost everything, credibility and my job. I was arrested and charged with theft and I am still dealing with the whole situation now.
Would my life have been better if I had an easier diagnosis and put on mood pills at the beginning of all this instead of anti-depressants which I was given after my marriage break up. Was it the combination of marriage breakup and anti-depressants that caused me to spiral so far out of control.
Today I sit here a broken man, finally diagnosed with Bipolar 1. Moods no longer go full blown mania but I feel it there, in the back of the my head, bubbling away and waiting to escape. I also often wonder if that marriage breakup, near homelessness and not knowing whether I would see my kids again caused me to get some form of PTSD? What do you think?