Normaly I tell people to sod off and kiss my grits when they start in on me and my scars and oh the terrible sin suicide is.  So let me clarify a few things.

Yes I am Mentally ill.  I am a schizophrenic.  Paranoid variety.  The Special Care floor of Regions Hospital up in St. Paul Minnesota found that out after I had a few rounds of dialysis (for those that don't know that cleans all the ickky's otu of your blood like your kidney's are supposed to do, I was in acute kidney failur at the time)  So by by to my miracle drug.  I paced up and down, ripped the catheter out of my neck, ripped out my IV's threw things at the nurses, yelled, screamed, paced, tried to leave, was very agitated, here in my home state I would have been soft cuffed to my bed but apparently Regions Hospital doesn't believe in that kind of stuff. I had full out hallucinations IE) The tile was talking to me kinda like a scrabble board or crossword....  I was seeing stuff, I swear the room was moving, everything was changing evrey so often, and I was seeign things that weren;t there.  My best friend I tore apart in thos paranoid stte, igonring her, yelling at her, just all in all I didn't know who I was, I didnt kow who she was but the two cats with her I knew and were talking to just fine.  PEople were out to get nme, to exploit and hurt me..I have never been so afraid in my life.  The voices were hurtful, painful, ripping my heart to shreds, makign me cry.  Riling up my PTSD.   By the tiem they got me back on my seroquel (After ignoring my friend who TOLD them I was schizo, talking to my psychiatrist, my nurse, my caseworker, my doctor..  everyone they go "oh we should put her back on the seroquel"  Yes I realize Seroquel doesn't work for a lot of people but at 800mg a day I have no voices, no hallucinations, and no paranoia.

Yes I realize I have scars, yes I realize that...  I did walk into a mental health help hospital with around 500 cuts from wrist to elbow.  My deep scars from my trying to take my life in high school....  I'm 30 now adn not proud of my past...  but it is life and it is what it is.

(Special Post For Me Or and Katie)

When I was first diagnosed I was at:

250

I was started on Metformin & Actos (Which made me ill seperately???)
Hospitalized:

400+

Three weeks at Actosplusmet (which doesn't make me sick)

105-120

I can't watch a show or movie depicting a healthy baby birth because I was never that lucky my son was very, very ill and  it made life very hard on me.  I was a young Mommy living with a very abusive man.

Rolland was a very large baby so they induce me and it took nearly twelve hours to bring him into this world.  When he was born he had something wrong with him but the NICU was so busy with a set is sixtulets that had been born the same day that only the sepsis had been caught and after two weeks of antibiotics he was sent home.

I saw his doc, called them alot because he was always throwing up, never had a fever, and eventually it turned green...  I take him to the ER twice the second time we get called back by the on call peds doc and I get written up for trying to starve my son which wasn't the case.  Cause he had gone from 8lbs at birth to 6lbs day of surgery.  She tried to call his doc who wouldn't co-operare and gave me the name of a different doctor if they wouldn't cooperate with me.  Which they didn't and I called this new doctor and they were all  Just bring him in we will see him right away.  Aparantly this vomiting thing was alot more serious then these docs were  making it out to be before.  

I said two words to the doc as my son regurgitated all over me, the table, the floor, and him and they called an ambulance to take him in for an emergency Upper-GI study. IT was the worst hour of my life.  He screamed and we turned and to pictures and fed barrium and the Rdiologist MISSED IT sent us home.

Paul went to work.  I was taking care of the baby in the bedroom and I heard a knock on the door, though it was stupid forgot something and I yelled come in and I came around the corner with the baby on my shoulder still screaming and there were two cops in the livingroom, "Ma'am you need to get his carseat and come with us. There has been a deadly mixup." and I sat shaking so bad the one officer had to tye him in and we got us in the car and went to the hospital.  

He was in emergeny surgery the next morning for 5 hours.  Bits and pieces of my family were there and all I could do was cry.  When the specialist came out she's all, like I knew and crap, "I removed 3 lknots in the small intestined and checked for webbing.  I cried more and she was all you didn't know about any of this did you and I was all know and she took me through a video that explains when a baby is forming their intestines are all over the body even up in the skull cause the brain isn't all the way forned and one day they wrap themselves in their place and that part is formed.  Aparantly my son's didn't wrap right and he ended up with what it known as "Mid-gut Volvulus with Mal-Rotation and happens in like 1-10,000 babies.  I still see pictures of when he was healing and he was so skinny...  But his ped always told me he was the healthies damn sick kid he's ever seen.  He turns 10 in November 11 and I miss him so much.  My sister and her partner are getting married and then they are gonna start the adoption process on him.  I'm so happy.