I first began to experience symptoms of bipolar disorder in my early teens. i was put on Lithium while in a hospital and right away the almost catatonic depression I was in began to ease. From there on in, it seemed medication would be the answer to everything that was wrong with me. For years i was on every depression medication available, tricyclics, MAO inhibitors–when one stopped working, I was simply put on something else. Then things got better and I needed no medication through my twenties. i still struggled with lows, but there were no suicide attempts, I was able to live and love, to work and, for the most part, even enjoy life. Then, at the age of 29 I had a manic episode and my medication nightmare began.

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I am mentally ill.
That’s okay.

I wake up every morning and put my pillbox together for the day. I take eleven pills total per diem. Respectively, they treat mood stability, severe anxiety, bipolar depression, blood pressure, bipolar disorder, and more bipolar disorder. I think that is a lot of medication, but I know some who take even more.

I own my mental illness. I know I’m not right. Sometimes my dad says to me, If I could make it so you didn’t have to take medication, I would. He says, I know what it’s like to not be in control of your faculties, it’s humiliating, it’s frustrating.

My meds have made an elegant organization of life. Twelve PM. Four PM. Nine PM. Bed. I can speak in complete sentences most of the time. I don’t often burst out crying or laughing at inappropriate times. There is a logical voice in my head that tells me what is correct behavior and what isn’t but I often find that I know by experience more than by listening to that voice. I still say very inappropriate things and curse like a sailor and make funny noises and sometimes don’t remember what facial expression to use, but that’s me, that’s all me, and I’m used to it. I own it. I’m weird by genetics.

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Everyone struggles with something in life. Some struggle for brief periods of time and some struggle every day. I belong to the some who struggle every day. Since I was 5 years old I have constantly struggled with mental illness. I have been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, schizophrenia, depression, anxiety, ADD, ADHD, PTSD, and attention deficit Disorder. My dad, step mother, and Step Father physically abused me for most of my life because they didn’t understand what I was going through and my Mother was the only person in my life to try to help me through everything I was dealing with. Unfortunately I did not trust anyone around me due to how I was treated at home and because I was constantly bullied at school because I was different. Eventually the abuse I was facing at my step fathers house led to me going into a state of shock and I tried to hurt my mother because I was so out of it and thought she was my step father. I was 15 at this point and was detained. 

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I am 32, a United States Marine Corps veteran, an auditor and I am living with bipolar disorder II, which causes symptoms of anxiety and depression episodes.

I never truly understood what it meant to have a mental illness until I realized that I was constantly worrying and feeling down. My depression episodes manifested as days of extreme lows where I struggled to get out of bed and perform day-to-day tasks and activities. I spoke to some friends who were dealing with similar symptoms, and they encouraged me to seek professional help. My bipolar diagnosis was identified when I was in a serious car accident while experiencing a manic episode.

Discovering a mental illness while recovering from a major accident was not easy. Here is what helped me accept my diagnosis and recover from my physical and mental injuries:

• My family and friends stepped up tremendously ready to assist and encourage me. I was an emotional and mental mess, and they helped put me back together.
• I had to position myself to receive advice from my family and friends who are familiar with mental illness and are actively managing their own mental illnesses. I also had to remain open to receiving information regarding coping strategies, being mindful of my mood and warning signs of a potential manic episode or manic depression.
• Setting small goals helped me find my way back to myself. I am not the same person I was before the accident, and trying to get back to that person is not realistic. I had to accept the now me in order to move forward.   

Today, I am different because I am living with my diagnosis and my diagnosis is not controlling me. I see my therapist and psychologist on a regular basis. I am mindful of my mood on a daily basis and aware of the warning signs of manic and depressive episodes. I ultimately have taken charge of my life and my health.

There is a need for mental illness to be recognized as a real and serious condition in community specifically the African American community. People need to be educated on the various mental illness diagnoses and symptoms and see a therapist at least 2-4 times a year to maintain their mental health. Education and therapy ensure they are not putting themselves or others in danger. Many people are unaware of their mental illness and choose to suffer in silence. We need to end this process of thinking and encourage people to seek support.

Mental illness screenings should be done 2-4 times a year for preventative reasons, just like an annual physical examinations and biannual dental cleanings. Mental illness screenings should be no different.

My hope is that people who live with mental illness and the people who love them will eventually see all health as equally important.

            My name is Jennifer and I am a recovered mental illness survivor—

            I have endured severe mental illness for over half my life.  During that time, I suffered from clinical depression, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, schizoaffective disorder, and borderline personality disorder.

            Due to the depression, my behaviors ranged from excessive crying to excessive sleeping to suicide attempts.  I felt feelings of worthlessness, hopelessness, and helplessness.  All I thought I wanted to do was die.   But in fact, what I really wanted was help with overcoming my severe sadness.

            During my manic states, I endured impulsive, spontaneous, and irresponsible behaviors.  I felt on top of world.  I felt excessive amounts of energy.  I had racing thoughts.  I had delusions of grandeur.  I’ll be honest.  It felt great to be so high, but it is also very dangerous.  Risky behaviors can lead to much endangerment of self and others.

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My doctor described my diagnosis to me in this way: I’m a 78 RPM person trying to function in a 33 1/3 world. For you baby boomers, you’ll know what I mean. If you’re younger than a baby boomer and don’t understand the analogy, ask your parents to explain it to you.

When I’m manic, I’m like the energizer bunny. Always going. Creating something. Wanting something. 

Right after I got diagnosed, I jumped into crafts and started making these little wooden window seats.

I didn’t create one or two, or a few. I created dozens. And dozens. And boxes full. I obsessed over getting every single wooden window seat in the Tampa area so I could make something out of it. Then I wanted a puppy. (Thank goodness my husband saw fit to tell me no at that time) Then I jumped into soap making. I made pounds and pounds of soap. (All of this is in less than a week.)

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Before being diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder II – I honestly knew little about it or mental illness in general for that fact. I was drowning in confusion while losing an uphill battle of anxiety, depression, and loneliness. It’s difficult to take care of yourself when it feels like your brain has betrayed you. For those of you who suffer, who are afraid to seek help, or are currently in the threshold of the mental health system, I give you my ABC’s of mental health. Everyone deals and reacts to mental illness differently. This is not a standard guide, but my personal experience with dealing with a new diagnoses, going through the process of finding the right medication, while trying to live life to the fullest despite the struggles and stigmas faced every day.

Anger – at yourself, at life, at everyone around you. Anger toward the medication you have to take, the doctors telling you things you don’t want to hear, therapists making you dig deep to the point of mental breakdowns. Anger that this is your new life. In the words of Tame Impala, “Let it happen.” Then let it go.

Bravery – I know it may not seem like it at times, but it takes a lot of courage and strength to get out of bed and face the world when all you want to do is curl up in a ball and hide from everything. It’s even braver to say things out loud and accept your disorder as part of you -not all of you. I came out to my family and friends in the form of an article that was published. Although I didn’t feel the bravery that they told me I had, it was a necessary step in accepting my illness and reducing the stigma attached to it. To those who struggle every day and find the courage to keep going, you my friend, are a brave one.

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Hello, I have always thought that sharing my story with the mental health community is important to bring hope to others that are just like me.

I’m a 37 year old divorced mother of two boys. I have been in therapy of some kind or another since I was 7 years old. Mental illness runs in my family as well as substance abuse addiction. I believe I was born with my many disorders that progressed and worsened as I got older, abused illegal drugs, prescribed medication and had my children. In my early childhood I showed all the many signs of OCD. I also grew up in an extremely chaotic family where my mother suffered terribly with her own mental illness that was never acknowledged or treated and an emotionally absent father. My two older siblings coped with this by using and abusing drugs and my older sister was put into rehab when I was seven. My older brother simply moved away and is still an addict today covering up his own mental health issues. My younger sister was extremely emotionally disturbed and would act out violently towards my parents but especially towards me. She would later become a drug addict for many years and thankfully entered recovery 4 ½ years ago.

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I have been struggling with mental illness from a young age. I have been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, adhd, ocd, borderline personality disorder, anxiety, psychogenic seizures, and a learning disability. I also am I recovering addict. I would like to spread my story to those in need to show them that the darkness does fade as long as you have the strength to flip the light. The goal is to inspire everyone but if that is not possible I aim to touch at least one person.

****POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING****

okay.. I don’t know where to start.. I’m a freshman in HIgh School, at the beginning of the year, I was diagnoised with anxiety attacks and panic disorder. I’ve been cutting since the 6th grade, I don’t eat right, I’m working out constantly, I have bipolar depression and am on medication for anxiety, panic attacks and depression. I dont even know what to do.

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