Some people say my story is sad, some say I’m lucky and strong to have made it through everything I have experienced. I have a great mom, and great friends, but since age 10, I have suffered from bipolar disorder. I was misdiagnosed many times until I was finally correctly diagnosed at age 18. I was miserable until I was diagnosed correctly because the treatment wasn’t meant for bipolar disorder, it was meant for things like anxiety, anger problems, and depression. I’m not going to lie; it honestly took every bit of strength I had to talk to my parents and tell them that I needed help. Whenever I talk about it now, I still feel kind of weirded out because some of my friends and my step dad’s side of the family give me weird looks. I shouldn’t have to be ashamed or feel like I’m a freak when I’m around them. Every day is a new battle, but I’ve made it through and I’m loving life, and you can too. Don’t be afraid to ask for help.

“Mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of, but stigma and bias shame us all” -Bill Clinton