"Officially" Diagnosed

This is sort of a long story and I am not sure where to begin. Six years ago I gave birth to my second child. She was a beautiful baby, I and my husband could not have been happier. Well unfortunately, I was NOT happy.
Honestly I can't remember a time when I was considered a "happy" person.
Exercise, relaxation, massages, none of it seemed to work. I made a list of everything that I was having and issue with and headed off to the family doctor. She said it sounded like mild depression after I only gave her a few things on my list. I was prescribed a low dose of Lexapro. I called her 2 weeks later to tell her there was no change. She increased my dose again. After another 2 weeks I was on the phone again, I was now going to be on the maximum dose. I thought that this would do it... Well it took the edge off of my issues so I assumed that was as good as it was going to get. I went on that way for about 5 more years.
During this past summer I started noticing that i was irritable more times than not, started to forget easy things, had no sex drive, the list goes on. After a particular crappy day I called and made an appt. with my family doctor. Her first concern was the sex drive and not really my other symptoms. I was prescribed a low dose of cymbalta and a low dose of wellbutrin. The good new is that my sex drive returned a little, but I was a total bitch. Another call to the doctor, this was getting old real quick, she upped the meds so that I was on 60mg of cymbalta and 150mg of wellbutrin. No discernible difference in mood. What did happen is that I started to get tremors, as an artist this was not tolerable, how can you draw or paint when you can't even control your hand? I gave it the requisite 2 weeks to work it's way into my system, in fact I gave it about four as I was too busy to go back to the doctor. I called the doctor shortly thereafter and was told I needed to make an appointment to come in. I did, again with my list of issues. She listened to a few and started looking at my history of medication and came to the conclusion that maybe it isn't just depression, perhaps it is a mood disorder aka. Bipolar type 2. I was given a script for lamictal and referred to a psychiatrist. I called the psychiatrist immediately and was not able to get an appt. until January (this was in September). 3 days after I started the lamictal and started weaning the other meds I had a particularly bad day and was crying for about 4 hours straight. It was over something really dumb and I knew it, I just could NOT stop. I called the doctor AGAIN. My doctor was not in so I had to talk to someone else who knows nothing about me other than what is in my file. He told me to stop the current meds and go back to what I was on before, you know, the stuff that wasn't working. I actually ignored that and doubled the lamictal, hey it worked before... I put in a call to my own doctor the following day and she was ok with the changes I had made. A week or two went by and the only medicine I was on was the lamictal. I got a call from the psychiatrist's office saying that they had a cancellation and could I come in the following week. Heck yes I could! The day after that, all hell broke loose. I was in a particularly stressful meeting at work in which my integrity and passion for teaching were questioned in front of my peers. My peers essentially got the same treatment. All of us on this committee were chosen because of how much we care and want change. However, we were chosen by a previous supervisor and this was the new supervisor asserting her power, or that is how I rationalized it. Anyway, I silently wept through the entire meeting. The meeting ended but my crying got worse, so much so that I had an anxiety attack. I of course called my doctor, I spoke to her nurse which told me to do deep breathing and they would call ativan into the pharmacy. A friend from work had to go pick it up for me while I hid in an office. I am a teacher that every student knows and a few of them saw me and were very concerned. That made me feel even worse! After a hefty dose of ativan I was able to go to my classroom and suffer through the rest of the day while my student teacher taught my classes. The next week was rather uneventful other than me quitting a few of the committees I was on. That was a little bit of a relief.