Four years ago I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I initially had the “why me?” reaction and wasn’t too compliant with the medication. The idea that I was now labeled as someone with a mental problem scared the crap out of me. The medication was also just a daily reminder of all the embarrassment I felt inside. I learned the hard way on how serious this illness can be on not only me but my family as well.

It has been an emotional roller coaster ride. I have been in and out of psychiatric hospitals due to manic episodes of the bipolar disorder. I have also done many things I deeply regret, lost a number of friendships, ruined a golden opportunity at college, and even had some suicidal thoughts.

The stigma is what held me back from getting help and I’m sure it’s holding other people back as well. Today I am very thankful and blessed to have been through great treatment centers, doctors, and a solid family support system at home.

The main reason why I am posting this is to show people that I’m not afraid to admit I live with a mental illness. The best thing I can do right now is to raise awareness by sharing my story and hope someone can get something out of it.

I used to stand glaring into Stigma’s Window, sucked and trapped into the view. All those myths about mental health, wrapped around me and written into my mind’s chalkboard. Just recently, that handwritten scribble of beliefs was finally erased. This is when that chalkboard became blank once again, starting fresh - no longer standing outside of Stigma’s Window, only after being diagnosed with bipolar disorder type II, anxiety and social anxiety.

My history is long and from going from my memories to written down in my book of history - a history of mood swings, stress, self-harm, suicidal thoughts, poor eating habits and a habit disorder. Although Stigma’s Window is the view for many in the world, intersecting with Stigma Road, I have finally stepped away from its view after my recent experience.

Ashamed and made guilty by my diagnosis and bad habits, I felt like I hit the bottom of a valley - and I sunk deeper when confronted. Confronted harshly and sternly by an individual - questioning lies I told while manic along with other signs of mania, though not known at the confrontation, and interpersonal struggles - was the day I got stuck at the bottom of the valley and felt like I was sinking into quicksand with no way out. My expression and nervous system was frozen as tears that I trapped, pushed back too far for too long, finally raced down my cheeks.

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Last month, two of my best friends took their lives. The one that affected me the most was JP. He did it in ascension day and it got me thinking…. I saw a quote about us being angels who want to go home,,, well,, he finally went home. I accepted what happened by knowing he won’t be in pain anymore, and I hope that he is happy wherever he ends up.. accepting helps a lot, and is the first step to getting better. JP and Veronica got me to realize that I cannot give up, my battle is not over yet and I want to get better. I will keep trying every day to get better, and I will do it for them.They would have wanted me to keep trying to get better.