This is something new for me as I have never written a blog before. It's more for me then anyone else although you are welcome to comment. I was diagnosed with Bipolar II disorder in 1996 and it has steadily gotten worse over the years. I have been feeling extremely depressed now for so long. It has been many years since I have been able to take my medicine on a regular basis. So many things have happened and now I'm on such a downward spiral I have no idea how to help myself. I have two teenagers ages 17 and 18 who were both diagnosed with Bipolar disorder as well. My husband left us in September of 2010 for his best friends wife. Shortly before he left my son overdosed on pills. It was just a few short weeks later that my husband left us and had no contact with my children for over a month. During that time my son was in outpatient therapy and in desperate need of both of his parents. I drove him to and from the hospital 45 minutes every day because he had too much anxiety to ride a bus to get there. Two to three times a week I made the trip several times a day for family therapy and his psychiatrist appointment. The hospital was a blessing and my son came out much stronger then he had ever been before going in. I am beyond grateful to those who saved my son. My depression and anxiety during this time was so incredibly high. So many times I when I woke up in the morning, I cried, because I woke up. Most of the time I felt like I simply could take another breath but, I looked at him and my daughter and realized there was no one else for them and if I didn't make it they would simply give up too. Thankfully I had a very strong family support in my parents so, I grasped onto them and let them and God carry me though. I had always had short term memory problems but, they are so much worse now. My thoughts race all the time and I jump from subject to subject often in the course of conversation. I am noticing that I am doing it even as I write but, I will leave it as it is because it's like a poison and I need to get it out. I shake and when I am having an extreme amount of anxiety I get horrible stomache's after I eat. When this happens, I go to the bathroom and throw-up, I feel much better and can then resume my daily routine. For many years my routine was getting the kids up and taking them to school and then sitting and waiting for the time I needed to pick them up. No tv, just sitting on the couch waiting for them to come back to me. The housework didn't get down the laundry piled up and I almost never cooked. I usually cried off and on through the day for no reason. My husband was angry and frustrated more often then not. When my children were toddler's I worked part-time as a cashier at night. My husband was an engineer for a company that made medical devices so he took care of them at night. Around 6 months after I started working my four year old son would beg me not to go to work. I thought it was seperation anxiety so I spent as much time with him as I could during the day but, it was always the same when I was getting ready to go to work. Finally, about a year into my job, he started saying "please don't go to work, don't leave us, daddy's mean, daddy's mean when your gone." I called off sick that night and talked to my husband. He told me it wasn't true, he said "Conner's just making it up so you'll stay home." I bought into that excuse and resumed work but, I started having a lot of doubts and anxiety when I left my children. When it became overwhelming I started calling off sick or coming home early. My employer was not happy and after a time they wrote me up for calling off so much. At first, when I would come home early I never saw anything out of the ordinary. Then one day I came home early and he was screaming at the top of his lungs in our four year olds face about not getting him a tool to fix something fast enough...he said "when I tell you to get something for me you don't walk, you run to get it" Conner was terrified and crying. I came into the room and asked him what in hell he was doing? I said "This is Conner making things up so I'll stay home, this is Conner lying to get his own way is it?" Then I told him never to do that again. "I said he is completely terrified of you and your yelling like an idiot in his little face." He said he was sorry, it had never happened before and he was overwhelmed from work. I looked at my son who was still staring at his father with a terrified look on his little face. My daughter was in her room with the door closed. I carried Conner back to his room and sat on the bed and held him for a long time. When he was calm, I said " you can tell me anything and I won't get mad at you, do you know that honey?" He shook his head and I said"is it always this bad for you when I leave you with daddy?" He was staring at the door to his room, when I looked back, I saw my husband staring at him. I put Conner down and went out of his room and asked his father if he was now trying to intimidate him into not telling me what was going on. I said "what the hell is wrong with you?" Are you hurting our children when I'm not here?" He said no he wasn't and got very defensive with me. I left him standing in the hall and went back to Conner. I filled up the tub to give him a bath and locked the door. I checked him all over and there was no bruises. I asked him point blank, "does daddy ever hit you?" He said "no but him shakes me and squeezes me weewy hard when hims mad at me." I asked him if he got mad at him often and he said sometimes. I told my husband he needed to get it together. I quit my job which really pissed him off but, I was afraid to leave the kids with him anymore. I caught him several more times screaming at my son when he turned 5 years old for the same thing. I was inside the house and he had Conner outside handing him tools to change the oil. Everytime he did I came running out and stood in front of Conner and asked him what the hell was wrong with him.. I never left him, I should have taken the kids and left at that time but I didn't. I have such guilt, I can't even begin to explain it. I was there to protect him and I didn't. I could have taken them to my parents and stayed with them but, I stayed. I was too afraid to leave. Afraid he would fight for joint custody of the kids and win. Then no one would be there for Conner, to stick up for him. He doesn't understand why I stayed and I can't explain it to him. For some reason he only targeted my son, never my daughter...I asked her as well and she said no he doesn't yell at me, only Conner. I failed as a parent, I am a bad mother and it makes me physically ill. The one thing I wanted most in this world, to be a mother and I let him be so verbally abused. I think about it often, I can't let it go and it eats away at me everyday of my life. When both of my children were old enough to be let alone for a few short hours, I started making appointments for myself, whether it was a dentist appointment or a psychiatric appointment. Before I left they would both look at me and say "are you going to be back before dad gets home." I would say, "I don't know, I think so." They always came with me, where ever I went. In 2000 I wanted to go to college to get my associates degree. I thought, if I could get a degree and was able to work, I could leave and we would be ok, I could support us. My husband said "you know how you are around people, you are afraid they are judging you, it wouldn't be good for you..or you know you don't do well in math, you would fail and would be out all of that money." When that didn't disway me he would use the trump card and say "if we send you to college we won't be able to afford the kids to go." I never mentioned it again, I would never put myself before them and he knew that, he had won...again. I was a coward and caved in...again. Just like that, our escape went down the drain and we continued as we were. He had found a job 4 hours away from our parents when the kids were 2 and 3 and I never went out, I didn't have friends. My social anxiety became worse and worse until I could no longer work. If we argued about anything he would turn from the subject and say "you don't clean, do laundry or cook dinner, I am tired of our house being a mess." He was right, I was a bad wife and mother and I knew it. I felt paralized by anxiety and depression and during the day and couldn't do anything at all. I started to encourage him to go out on Friday nights and Saturday mornings and the kids loved it. They came out of there rooms and we spent time together. They always asked me "is dad going out tonight?" Those times were the best for my children and myself but, it was never enough and I soon fell into such a depression I was there physically but not mentally. I toned everyone and everything out. My medicine was only taken spo