When my second daughter was eight months old I was deep in post partum depression. My husband was ignoring his daughters and even though I hated the sexual attention, he was ignoring me also. I had the help from my church, but I was alone and felt alone. I had the love of my two beautiful daughters which was exceptional because I always wanted to be a mom, to be a better mother than my own mom had been. But the demands on me were too much and I cracked. I became psychotic and tried to hurt my husband the way he hurt me. I was crazed but focused. I nearly killed him.
The next morning I went to my friend’s house, told her what I did and she took me to my doctor’s office. After talking to my doctor’s associate, I was immediately admitted to the local psychiatric hospital. I had been diagnosed Bipolar Personality Disorder when I was first hospitalized in Denver, Colorado, but my medications had never been right. And since I was breast feeding again, I was going without medication. However that changed. It had to. I had tried to kill my husband in a psychotic rage. Looking back now, I am thankful I did not succeed, it would have destroyed me. Thankfully my husband did not press charges, he just insisted I be admitted to the hospital and be put back on medication. I was forced to stop breast feeding and being in the hospital, visitation was minimal. I missed my daughters horribly. But on a couple of occasions my husband brought my daughters to see me. They were the only bright spots in my hospitalization.
My memories of the next few years are very hazy. I was heavily medicated and sedated, my husband was more abusive than before and I had put on so much weight no one recognized me. When we married, I was 5'8'' and 160 pounds. By this point I was 450 pounds and utterly miserable. I thought the more weight I put on the safer I’d be from my husband sexually, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. I was again admitted to the hospital, but this time I hysterically admitted to sedating my daughters with Robitussin and Benadryl to get them to sleep every night, so social services was called. I was charged with child neglect and they were removed from our home and put into foster care. This devastated me even more. I knew I was wrong for medicating my daughters without a doctor’s order. But losing my daughters was so devastating to me, I became suicidal again which only made things worse. My medications were changed again and I was more sedated. Things down spiraled quickly.
