This is a long story, and I apologize in advance for any, bitter angry undertones. I'll skip all of the grief I've had in life and the hard times that I've experienced. I'll try to keep it to the medical issues. It will feel good to tell a part of my story, arguably the hardest I've been through.***Trigger Warning: suicide/ideations/self harm****
I moved back to my home after winning a long-fought custody battle out of state (by myself) and bouncing around a couple different places. I've always struggled with anxiety and depression since I was a teenager, and have been on a variety of medications to try and cope. I can't honestly say any of the anti-depressants made much difference. I definitely see positive changes when taking Clonozepam and the like, but I am never permitted by my doctors to take them regularly. I also believe that I now suffer from ADHD- but can't afford to seek a formal diagnosis or medication. Now, to the story.
I starting dating someone I went to high-school with after moving home, and was working with my mother. I stayed home with my child who was less than 3 at the time for some time, then began working for my mother while living in her house. I have always struggled with codependency in relationships and went to spend every moment I could with him over night and during the day when possible. This combined with difficulties working with my mother and not having my own space, I was "kicked out" and only my child was allowed to stay there. I quickly found an affordable, nice place to live with my boyfriend and child. That relationship slowly became more toxic. A couple years into the relationship, there was a suicide in his family that hit us hard. I was planning to go back to school, but this crumbled when dealing with the aftermath of the death. Around this time, I started experiencing intermittent leg weakness. I tried to clean with my mother during the week while working my job in veterinary medicine 12-15 hours a day on the weekends. My mother watched my child on the weekends until it became too much for her, and this paired with my health issues caused me to leave that job and begin working odd jobs during regular hours. I lost all of them due to the inability to meet the physical demands and the overwhelming stress of my relationship. I was on and off of different birth controls and depression medications at the time. I felt alone, and sad. My family and doctors did not believe my symptoms and accused me of faking. I had many trips to the ER and was treated incorrectly for everything from anaphylaxis, stroke, mania, psychiatric breakdown, malingering, and more. Test results were all coming back normal, except one that tested my bladder's ability to work correctly, but I was getting worse. I found a job in the Veterinary field that was patient with me even on the worst days, and I always showed up and made the 35 minute drive at 6:00 am just to be sent home half of the time. I ended up going to the hospital and being admitted, where I was diagnosed with Functional Nuerological Disorder. I was essentially paralyzed from the waist down and tried occupation and physical therapy to improve, but it only made things worse. Slowly I was able to regain the ability to walk and do tasks, but struggled every day to do even simple things.
Then I was put on Cymbalta. The reasoning was it would help with my depression as well as my neuropathy and other symptoms. I slowly began to get more and more depressed. My dose was increased from the minimum to the maximum dose in just 7 months. Things only got worse. My boyfriend would make fun of my symptoms and ignore me when I was having "seizures" and talked negatively about me to everyone. We argued all the time. He did not contribute or help with any household tasks and I frequently had to pick up his half of the bills. My child, now 6, was the one bright light in my life. We did everything together, but I always felt that I wasn't able to be the mother to her that she deserved. One day when I was alone, I spiraled into a manic episode and felt like there was no way out. Long story short, I took all of my Cymbalta pills and wrote letters to family apologizing for being a burden and letting them know I loved them but could not go on. I didn't feel like myself, at all. I tried to call 2 people for help, but neither answered. So I waited until my boyfriend brought my child home from school. I told him what I did, and he was angry. We went to load everyone in the car to go the hospital, but I lost control of my legs and couldn't get down the stairs. I laid down outside and asked him to put my child to bed and call the ambulance. I slowly got worse and lost my ability to speak, which was a common FND symptom. However, the EMTs who took me the hospital did not believe me. Eventually they did. I was given charcoal and was very sick to my stomach but overall had no terrible things happen. That was until I was told I was being involuntarily committed to the mental hospital. My boyfriend didn't want the responsibility of taking care of my child, so she went to my mom's. He never wanted much to do with her, unfortunately. I had my phone taken away and was beside myself. I knew that despite my child's father being a drug addict, him and his family would try to take my child- for a second time. I waited and waited in the mental hospital, stuck in a wheelchair and unable to walk due to the stress and FND. At this point I absolutely knew the Cymbalta was to blame and told them I wasn't taking it anymore and to put me on something else. I don't remember much about the withdrawals, but I knew the suicidal ideation was due to the medication, and the therapist agreed. I had a sort of pleasant experience at the hospital, until I got the call that my child had been taken from school and a emergency temporary court order filed to remove her due to my mental and physical instability. They lied on the order (as usual) and it was due to be heard within 2 weeks.
When I got home, I was served papers by police in the pouring rain and told officially that my daughter was gone 3 hours away. I immediately broke up with my boyfriend. I told him to leave and never come back, and that I had already lost every thing so might as well be alone. My job let me stay and was very supportive. My symptoms were still bad. Then, almost immediately, COVID hit. Court was pushed back and continued over and over, and I was forced to comply with the supervised visits 3 hours away from the emergency order. They did all they could to keep me from my child, and it was difficult to make the 3 hour drive for just a 2 hour supervised visit. I struggled to work and pay my bills. I was depressed and more lonely than ever, but I never attempted suicide or anything else which further proved to me that it was the Cymbalta. The fathers family began to turn my child against me, and I missed her so much. I was informed by my job after some time that I was not allowed to go to the city to visit her because it was a COVID hotspot. If I did choose to go, I had to take 2 weeks of unpaid leave. If I went and was discovered to have not followed policy, I was fired. So I did what I could and ultimately quit and found another job. I had received help from my family for about a year while looking for work. 2 1/2 years after they first filed that emergency court order, my lack of visits and continued lies and assumptions from the father and his family as well as them having a better lawyer- I officially lost my child. I felt helpless. This has been the start of the end.
It's been 3 years, and I see my child when I can. It was every other weekend, until I was ordered to pay child support that left my budget in a deficit and would mow allow me to afford to see her at all. I was emotionally distraught and ended up having my FND become so debilitating that I lost the job (that was very very toxic and had a bully I dealt with daily as well as low pay and low appreciation, etc) I had had for over 2 years. Then I couldn't afford to pay child support, and still couldn't afford to see my daughter. I tried to find work and failed. I had 2 boyfriends during those 3-4 years, and the first one was stressful and didn't work out more than a year. Then I found someone who I am still with and feel extremely lucky to have by my side for almost 3 years now. My daughter's father held me in contempt of court for not being able to pay child support despite me not having a job, and I was arrested and immediately realized to "scare" me and berated by the judge who told me I was making up my health issues and essentially a failure as a mother and human being. I still have to go back to court. Now, my child's father and family is trying to take what little time I have with her and cut it to nearly zero. Thankfully, my child is almost 11 and our relationship has had a complete turn around. We enjoy our time together again. My child doesn't know anything about what's going on with custody and court. My anxiety is spiraling out of control and I have moments of severe depression. I'm on Desvenlafaxine (sp?) and had also tried Trintellix. Nothing seems to matter. I had a great therapist for 2 years, but he moved to private practice and I haven't seen one in almost a year. I have clonazepam to take for anxiety when things get rough. It helps, but I have not been approved to take it everyday.
I feel so lost. My life has unraveled to a point where I just don't know anymore. If you made it this far, thanks for reading. I appreciate you all.
There are a lot of details I did not include, just too many to go through. I am happy to answer any questions. This post was mostly to just share my experience in hopes it may help someone, or they can help me. I feel like this experience as well as everything that has happened previously I didn't mention have given me PTSD or just made my anxiety so bad I can't tell the difference. My FND is still kicking, but I manage it well. However, after failing to get on disability SSI twice but also losing so many jobs due to the disorder, I feel like I don't fit in anywhere. I never completed a college degree. Most of my experience I can no longer use because I physically can't work in those fields anymore. I'm sorry this post is so hectic and choppy, I usually take more time to write and add more detail but I just needed to get this all out.
Thank you again
True hope for FND and Chronic Pain
Covid 19 Vaccine brought on FND. My story
Is my mystery neuropathy FND?
