Just a little history

Let me introduce myself. I am a 36 year old woman, mother of a 17 year old daughter and a 9 year old son. Growing up, depression was a constant battle. I was in and out of therapy and it always felt like bad things always found there way to me. I was always getting into trouble, defying all the rules, or so depressed I wanted to die. It was a lot easier to hide the trouble, I became very good at concealing the truth and lying came easy. I would sometimes tell the lie so well and so often that it became real to me. To this day I still don't know which ones were real and which were not. My memory is foggy and my family won't really discuss it with me. I was not officially diagnosed as being Bipolar until about 5 years ago. Once I was diagnosed it all seemed to make sense. I refuse to use it as an excuse though it would be very easy to do. Even though I am bipolar it does not make it ok that I stole, lied and cheated, they were still choices I made and followed through with even though I knew they were wrong. It just did not matter as much to me back then. I am on meds now and even though things are more clear, I still fight the urges and depression every day. The meds make it easier to manage and I can now recognize the signs.
I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia about 6 or 7 years ago (it all blends together after a while and time is meaningless). I had first been diagnose with hyperthyroidism and had decided to have my thyroid removed. Not long after that I had to have one of my ovaries removed due to complications from a tubular pregnancy I had back in 1994. I was also at the time dealing with postpardom depression from the birth of my son. I was suicidal and felt like I did not matter so what was the point. I was sleeping all day, calling out of work all the time, not taking very good care of my son leaving my then 9 year old daughter to do most of the work. My husband at the time did not understand what was going on, in fact I did not know, he felt helpless and he felt like he was not a good husband because he could not take care of me. My marriage was falling apart, and then my body started to fall apart and I was lost. My doctors had no clue what was wrong, why I was always in so much pain. My depression got worse because anytime I went to the doctor or hospital in pain they would look at me like I was just trying to score some drugs. I did not want drugs I just wanted the pain to go away. I wanted to know what was wrong with me. I was finally diagnosed as having fibromyalgia, but that did not mean anything to me. There were no known drugs or cures for fybromylagia and the doc would not give me pain meds for fear of forming an addiction. I was ok with that, that was the last thing I wanted, to be an addict too. To this day I only ask for pain meds when nothing else works. I won't go to the emergency room because it does not matter what I tell them, they don't believe me when I tell them it is my fybromyalgia, they run a bunch of tests I don't have money to pay for, then when they finally determine that there is nothing wrong they hesitate giving me meds. What works for me the best is something I can't get from a pharmacy or hospital. I smoke marajuana. It relaxes me. I dont smoke just for the high though, strictly for my fibromyalgia.