When and why did you first see a mental health professional?

My first time seeing a mental health professional was at age 16. I don't know if he was a therapist, pdoc or what but I know he had on argile sox! I don't remember what we talked about but in retrospect we had lots I couldve talked about: growing up a child of an alcoholic, or the voices I heard. But instead, he pronounced me a "normal teenager" and sent me on my way.

I always felt I was different somehow. I was even told as much by teachers and one aunt in particular.

At 25, when pregnant with my first child, my OB/GYN prescribed Zoloft for depression.

I saw a woman about the adult child of an alcoholic thing- syndrome I guess you'd call it when I was 26 or so. But we didnt get far.

Some time after this, I saw orange rectangles in the sky. I had my husband come look. He said he saw nothing. But every time I looked outside they were there but they weren't there when I looked back inside.

My second pdoc was when I was pregnant and post partum with my third child at age 29. Despite vivid hallucinations, she refused to look further into my symptoms- including catatonic depressions.

After my 3rd pregnancy, I saw someone for post partum psychosis. Only I didnt know that this is what its called. This is when I had my first vivid violent hallucinations.

Then about age 32 I saw a therapist that was supposed to help me find my way into my own place instead of living with my mom. I told her my tale and she just said "What do you want ME to do about it??" I got madand Im pretty sure I just left. I had sooo been looking forward to that appointment, too.

It wasn't really until I was about 33 that my primary doc referred me to a pdoc in general. I dont know what I told her for her to deem that necessary but I do remember being dissociated wandering the neighborhood and of seeing a little girl on a porch just disappear. I also remember riding my bike quickly with headphones on singing along to classical choir music at the top of my lungs.

I was finally diagnosed bipolar NOS. Not sure how long later but they changed it to bipolar 1.

17. Therapist and a school
Therapists plus psychiatrist

i saw a therapist in college just for general dysthymia and irritability. he gave me Seroquel and it worked nicely. then i broke out in mania, but it was pure, not mixed, and i thoroughly enjoyed it so i dodged a diagnosis and medication for a couple years. then i got hospitalize for depression, tried Zoloft, got manic again, and finally had a mixed episode and sought better help.

been on lamictal ever since and haven't relapsed aside from a mild mania this summer but we upper the lamictal to 400 and i feel better.

15 - The school made my parents take me to a therapist. I had been quite ill that year, starting with depression (almost flunked due to skipping school) to a severe mixed episode where I was so distraught that I passed out in the hallway at school and came to in hysterics. This all followed an extreme disappointed relating to my dream to become a ballerina, etc.

The therapist wasn't helpful. Of course he invited my parents in with me. My father spent the whole time boo hooing about how I was stressing him out. [Everything has always been all about him, him, him, even though my situation had zero to do with him. Lord help him if he ever thought about anyone but himself! Not even his 15 year old daughter.] After a few sessions of more of the same, I told my mother I was fine, so they stopped taking me there. I was soon after transferred to a private school (at the suggestion of my guidance counselor), which I liked, and then decided I wanted to "find God". It was soon after that I was baptized and confirmed a Roman Catholic, soon after turning 16, which no one in my family was. I've long since left the church. It was a "phase". One of many!

Side note:

At 14, I thought I was going to die of a heart attack. My mother had taken me to the GP who diagnosed me with anxiety, and prescribed the anti-anxiety medication Buspar (buspirone). I maybe took it three times and then stopped. There was no follow-up appointment. That was my first psych medication. The story went on and on.

I was 17. My mom was mentally and physically quite ill, so one of her MD's arranged for me to see a therapist (psychologist). I remember that it felt like a relief to talk with him, although I left out most of what was going on in my life.

At 15 I was hospitalized for an eating disorder. I saw several mental health professionals while there. The psychiatrist wanted to put me on an antidepressant, but I didn't want one and my parents were okay with that. After that I briefly saw a therapist outpatient. I didn't see another mental health professional for 12 more years when I went to a psychiatrist for concentration and memory issues.
I also guess I technically saw a mental health professional when I saw a family therapist with my family when I was like 5 or something. I really don't know why we went, but I do recall we played games or drew pictures.

Short answer: it was when I was10 initially seen by a child psychologist because I was extremely shy and quiet, but 38 when I was finally treated for depression.

Here's the longer version:

The very first time was when I was 10. I was 2 years into being physically abused and was having trouble with everything. I had a bunch of sessions with a child phycologist. He said that something was up with me but my parents wouldn't hear of it and things ended there.

Years later when I was 38, my regular doctor referred me to the pdoc I'm seeing now. She was the first to take my depression seriously. I was seeing my regular doctor for years before that for anxiety that progressed to depression and was treated with Ativan and antidepressants.

I was treated with antidepressants by my pdoc for years and nothing worked. I had no idea my ups weren't normal and my pdoc didn't really do anything about them for years. It was only once in went into full blown mania for a few weeks that she referred me to a special clinic where they determined that I'm bipolar.

I was in therapy from age 44 and we determined that I've been depressed since I was 8, which is when the abuse started. My T said I likely also had PTSD due to traumatic events before I was 8.

Long winded answer I know.

I had therapy through children's protective services when I was 14. It helped but some of her decisions were questionable. I think she left and I didn't continue with her replacement when I was 16 or 17.

I had therapy with someone really good in college, then on and off in grad school (lots of bad therapists there), then I started where I go now in 2002. My first therapist there moved on 14 years ago and I've been with the same person since and intend to stay with him until he retires.

I went to my first pdoc at 14 when I was diagnosed with mdd based on my emotions and behavior. My school counselor recommended her to my parents. She was horrible. I went to a second pdoc who diagnosed me with bipolar disorder around a year later when I had a manic episode. I was a complete mess in high school. I went from therapist to therapist for various reasons and was ip or doing iops. I got better and stopped taking meds around age 20 and had only mild episodes (minus 1 ppd) until age 28 when I had a psychotic break. I’ve had pretty frequent, random, and severe episodes since (although sometimes getting a couple of year breaks in between). I’ve been to numerous therapists as an adult and finally found the one who is perfect for me and also, after only a few tries, found the right pdoc.

I was 20 or 21. I was in the Army and was stationed overseas. My command brought me to the hospital and forced me to see a psychiatrist. At the time, I didn’t understand that there was anything wrong, but I guess I had been having problems for several months, and not everything I had been experiencing was actually real.

When I was 14 due to a severe depressive episode. Wasn't dx'd with Bipolar though till I was 18, then Schizoaffective Bipolar Type at 19

My GP referred me to a Psychiatrist March 2010 I was seen end of May 2010. She had suspected I had Bipolar all along but needed it confirmed. He told me I was stable as I was at the time. I was re-referred in the July and saw him in September 2010. By October 2010 i was diagnosed.

When I was a young teenager due to apparent adjustment issues/behavior problems noticed in grade school. It actually was my illness, depression for the most part. They could not figure this out back then. Then in my early twenties, for the depression itself. I was eventually diagnosed BP in my 40s. So what? 30 years between initial symptoms and a correct diagnosis?

BTW The Chinese documented this illness in the 1500s. The DSM-II recognized this MI back in 1968.

My mother experienced a manic psychotic break when I was 22. She lived out of town at the time and showed up on my doorstep one day in that state. I tried my best to care for her, but I had no idea how to help her. It continued to escalate until we had to take her to the hospital after several days of zero sleep and no food. The hospital commited her and sent her to a psychiatric facility. I met a pdoc there for the first time. He told me my mother was bipolar and that she would need medication for the rest of her life. He told me she would be unwell and unsafe without it and that she would most likely resist it and relapse over and over. I was so afraid of it happening again and I believed everything the doctor said.

I pleaded with my Mom to take her meds. She kept telling me all she needed was to change her life and she would be better. I refused to believe that and told her over and over that staying on her meds was the only way to keep her safe. She started making life changes anyway. She divorced my father and asked me to let her go and live her life without me. She said I was making her sick and she couldn't have that around her while she healed. I was heartbroken, but I complied.

She never had another episode in the 16 years since the first one. She turned her life around and healed a number of emotional wounds that were causing her great distress. She always followed my life through my brothers but we remained apart. I then had an episode similar to hers last year. It was severely psychotic. The doctors told me I was bipolar and that I would need meds for the rest of my life. I believed them. I also remembered how my mother had changed her life and created a life she could be happy with and thrive within. I got out of the hospital and began the same journey while on my meds. I removed everything that was triggering me. I quit my job. I researched all I could to learn how to manage my emotions and mental health. I worked on my issues in therapy. I ate healthy and stayed away from all substances. I exercised regularly. I practiced self care. I came here to learn from you all.

My doctors and therapists began to question my diagnosis. They did not expect me to thrive after all I experienced. They expected replapse. They expected depression, but it never came. I was able to share that I was well and thriving at each appointment. They couldn't explain it, but told me to keep doing what I was doing because it was working. They kept my meds at a starter dose and told me we were in a watchful waiting mode.

They now call what I went through 'brief reactive psychosis'. I am currently weaning off meds per my doctor's recommendation. I have a life I am happy with and proud of. My withdrawal from meds is going well and I am hopeful I will be detoxed completely in 3 more weeks.

I reached out to my mother a few months ago. I asked her for information about herself and her time when she was sick because I learned my issues could be genetic. We have been in contact ever since. She has been a wonderful support. She spends time with my family now and my children love their Grandma. We have healed so much of what was broken by me only trusting in a pdoc and not listening to her because I was afraid. Pdocs have a difficult job and they help so many people, but they sometimes discount the control patients can have on their lives when they attack their problems head on. They sometimes miss that individuals can be different from the normal patterns they see so often. They make assumptions that sometimes ruin lives and relationships. The doctors have said my mother and I are atypical. I'm happy to be the weird one. I wish I could change so many things in my past. I cannot, but I am doing all In can to build a happy future for my family. I don't need a doctor for that, but I'm happy to have their support as I go along. Maybe they will learn something that helps the next person like me and my mother.

I was forced to see one when they tested me for a learning disability but scored in highest honors classes.

When I voluntarily went to therapy it was because I was paranoid my husband's therapist was trying to hospitalize me and needed someone in my corner.

First time seeing a dr about it was when my husband threatened to divorce me because I wouldn't get up for two weeks.

I was 16. I was having lots of dizzy spells and the doctor couldn't figure out why. After lots of tests, and finding nothing, the doctor started talking about/ describing depression and I just had tears streaming down my face. He referred me to a psychologist and started me on an antidepressant.

The reason I was having dizzy spells was never really figured out. I passed out entirely a few months later, and then I started having seizures six weeks later.

When I was 9 our family dr sent me to the mayo clinic. Had terrible migraines, an ulcer and had lost weight ( SA abuse was going on from neighboring man) they wanted me to see a child psychiatrist but my father wouldn't hear of it. This was the 60's and one simply did not see shrinks

Next encounter was as a freshman at the U. One night I took off and walked miles away and was standing on a bridge when a cop pulled me off. He drove me back to campus and told me to see the counselors. The next day I went and they basically told me think happy thoughts and you will feel better , this was in the 70's

Next up a friend convinced me all my problems were due to alcohol and to go to treatment with her. They gave me an mmpi and then wanted to hospitization me based on my score, I lied though my teeth and left.

I was 27 and My husband put my in the emergency room and I got 17 stitches in my head and couldn't hear for almost a month. They gave me a psychologist number to call, I was finally ready and saw him. He diganoised me with MMD and PTSD, after years of mis-managed meds it was changed to BP and PTSD

I do wonder what my life would have been like if I'd gotten help at any of the previous encounters?

I was 35 when I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder and GAD, and 59 when I was finally diagnosed as bipolar II. I was given Seroquel in 2017, and then the hypomania finally stopped. I sometimes wonder how my life would have been if I was diagnosed as a teen, when it all started. I'm now 65 and I'm finally somewhat stable.

About three months ago. I did it after six months of depression which was sometimes changed by mixed states. It was really bad time for me because all my coping techniques totally failed and I didn't know what to do. Before that, I thought I can solve my problems by myself.