I can relate to this. You try to hide the fact that you are sliding mentally, telling all of your loved ones you are doing fine…until eventually your family has to bring you to the Hospital.
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I remember throwing a rock at an outdoor drive-in movie theater screen, then getting into a high speed car chase on the way home.
My Mom called right when I got in and I told her I was doing fine…about to give the twin babies a bath.
I was beyond a lunatic and lying my pants off, thinking I could handle it all.
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I did that very same thing when I had my first breakdown. My Dad called me to see if I was all right and I said, yeah, everything’s fine. Then I left in my car, stopped at a Howard Johnson’s, ate without paying, left and got picked up by the police and put in a hospital. Duhhhhhh!
my first major episode I tried walking from Jefferson City Missouri to a small town in North Eastern Iowa, which at the very least was an 8 hour car ride…I wanted to go to my cousin’s, mostly wanted to leave Jefferson City. I hated it there, I was alone, most of the other kids made fun of me all the time in school (I was just transitioning from middle school to high school). Also couldn’t cope with changing the schools…not that I had friends in middle school either…I was a shy kid with a learning disability and slightly overweight. I don’t remember how far I made it but a friend of my dad’s who was on the police force found me wandering around in the middle of the night and brought me home. Shortly later I was admitted to mental ward. I also was having minor episodes before and after it. It took me six months to get stable enough to be discharged from the hospital.