“Successfully” Living with Bipolar Disorder, If I Can Do it, So Can You!

 I never thought I’d actually say I was “Successfully Living” with Bipolar Disorder. I’ve been on so many medications and been through cognitive behavior therapy, multiple psychiatric hospitalizations along with a long-term hospitalization as well. When I found out I had medication resistant depression and I had to have ECT (Electro-Convulsive Therapy) I didn’t think I’d ever become successful.

But, here I am. And, I can actually say for the first time since my diagnosis in 2003 that I am successfully living with Bipolar Disorder. Why do I say “successfully”? Because, I’d rather not consider the other options.

I work hard every day to make sure I stay stable. And, if an episode attempts to rear its ugly head, I’m on top of it. I’ve created a Coping Box that is my “go to” no matter if a mania episode or depressive episode starts. The box is filled with affirmations, prayer journals, my Bible, my Wellness Recovery Action Plan, coloring books, crayons, colored pencils, bubbles, (no one can be in a sad mood with bubbles, right?)  Gummie snacks, a list of people to call, and all sorts of spiritual books to keep me in God’s Word.

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I have had bipolar disorder for as long as I can remember and I even when I got depressed I never thought of suicide what my outlet is watching movies or tv because I also have cable whether I am happy or  depressed I have a great outlet so I don’t get suicidal. Plus I am compliant with my medication regiment

When I was 19 I was finally diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder after 2 years of rapid cycling between mania and depression. I had also dealt with depression for a long time, and have attempted suicide 3 times in my life. It has taken a long time to become stable, but after years of therapy and medications, I’m functioning well and have minimal impairment. I never gave up on my dreams, and now I’m 25, own a home, am halfway through nursing school with a 4.0 GPA at the top of my class, and was selected for a major scholarship to pay for the rest of school. My point is to never give up. I promised myself that when I finally put that R.N. behind my name, I will make a difference and help people who are struggling like I did. I will remind healthcare providers that those lost souls need guiding, and not judgement or whispers. Stay strong, you have a purpose. 

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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            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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The idea of having a Bipolar Disorder stung me for a long time. When I’m feeling down, sometimes I feel the pressures of the stigma revolving around my mental illness. I always felt like there was a “normal” Valerie or a status quo that I had to

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This year has been the year I’ve really worked on my recovery and my overall mental health. From a very young age I was depressed, fascinated with death and constantly anxious. I developed major body image issues as a child that turned into an eating disorder. I grew up with a biological father who was an addict, alcoholic, abusive and mentally ill with Bipolar Disorder.

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I use this term to bring a little lightness to the dark hole that bipolar disorder has caused in my life. I have struggled for too long, not understanding why I felt the way I did, and thinking I was “broken.” Many traumatic events occurred in my 20’s in a very short period of time, and I lost all hope. I wanted to blame it on everything and everyone. My mother, for instance, is a recovering alcoholic with severe clinical depression and I was her primary caretaker for most of my formative years. I definitely blamed her. But after a long road, with some sharp turns and devastating speed bumps, I have reached a place in my recovery where I can finally feel my feet under me.

A combination of medication, individual and group therapy, mindfulness and yoga, and using skills to help me handle my extreme emotions and impulsive behavior, have given me my life back. I’m not out of the woods yet, and I won’t trick myself again into thinking its all over forever. It will never be gone, this bipolar bear of mine, but I have learned to embrace it and make the best of what I DO have in my life instead of mourning things I thought I lost.

My support system of family, mental health professionals, and my partner, have kept my head above water. I am now strong enough that I am working to bring awareness to mental illnesses and destigmatize people’s views in my workplace, which is a very large corporation where no one has yet spoken up. I am proud to be where I am now. I can finally say that I love my life and my little bipolar bear.

It was never about how dirty the house was or how many newspapers you had saved overtime or the amount of magnets you had on both fridges. It was the draining effect of what your mental illness would bring. What mom was I going to see today? Will she be nice and funny? Will she be mean and hurtful? Will she be sad and kept to herself? Everyday was different. Each had a little twist to them. From bipolar to manic to depression the things that are forbidden to be talked about. Yet they take so much away from people. I never hated you I just hated your illness. I hated that you became mean in a blink of an eye or you get sad within seconds and I did love when you were funny because we could crack jokes but all it took was for one little thing and you’d switch. I never wanted this for you. All I wanted was my mom. Your illness took over and it was so hard to love you. When you knew how to take the wound you opened and twist and dig it deeper. I know one day ill look back and be thankful for all the lessons learned and maybe help others one day, but for now I just want to help you.