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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            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 Story (super short version!):

I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder in my early teens. Spent the rest of my life up until four years ago being ashamed of who I was.

But I am not my illness, my illness is not me. I don’t need nor do I want sympathy. What I need and want is help to stop the stigma of mental illness.

I’m also selfless to a fault, which is very debilitating (to say the least!).. but it is also, ironically enough, part of why I’m still alive and in the place I am today.

With that being said, I don’t ask for help a lot. I’m getting better at that though & making sure I’m asking when I truly need it - like today. I’m asking for your help.

Please help me stop the stigma once and for all. 🙏🏻❤️

 #KNOWBETTER #DOBETTER #BEBETTER #MENTALWELLNESS

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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Enough is enough!  The challenge of living with a mental illness has struck me and many members of my family, female and male, and today, I am taking a stand. I will be their voice…for anxiety, depression, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder and more. I will not walk in shame and defeat for my head is lifted to the sky. I will not let society put us in a category, define us, or mark us as “crazy” or “half cracked”. We have to address mental illness in our global society and aim to defeat it like any other illness of the body. It has no perspective race, gender, or culture and it comes to steal the joy of living on this beautiful earth.

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Hello, my name is Matthew.

I have a serious mental illness and the diagnosis is Bipolar disorder.

We all have our own story. Mine is how I went through school K-12 and always struggled with depression and anxiety but I never got the right treatment until my senior year of high school was falling apart.

I did graduate but it was more than getting to class on time, doing homework and studying for the next test. It was Bipolar 1… a serious and complicated illness. With words going around school that, I was falling apart like a monument that collapsed with no foundation. The foundation was not cemented it was my state of mind. A dark hole that comes quick, I went to Havenwick Mental Hospital.

I was ran a cross-country race, I was always a great runner since 10th grade. “Come on Matt speed up,” I finished with a bad time. Which was not me but my team treated it like it was. I was just dehydrated, which was true, but how about writing how you will run a race and do well in school the next day when you stay up until 3 am? Why, I was manic. Manic is less sleep more energy. (Superman) I felt like trash with a cherry on top.

Going back to 2005 when I was in kindergarten the alphabet was tough for me. The teachers most likely said he is hard on himself or he is slow. Ever since then I was hard on myself, but moving back to my senior year I was falling apart quickly and then started to not be as hard on myself once I received treatment at a mental hospital I felt happy and with peace to be in the same room as other people with mental illness. When I was in Havenwick Mental Hospital, I was thinking of my friends and people at my high school. Not as much as if I miss them, but the fact that the people in hospital with me did not take the small things for granted. Small things are like appreciation for one another.

Back at my high school it was you are a jerk get out of here you are a no buddy. Then I was rethinking my friends and being happy to talk to others that had a great appreciation of one another. Respect for one another. With respect comes a problem to connect about depression, anxiety, coping, medication, and other mental illness in a hospital room. I just think it ironic how the people that don’t realize they have it all but instead that blame other people for their problems. For the people in the hospital, it was just being happy to have shot at recovery. Ever since my recovery, I made a face with puzzle pieces each piece as a word that defines who I am. I made sure that I filled it all the way. To never looked back!

It took months maybe a year or two to feel very comfortable about being aware of mental illness. That’s what brought me to type this letter. Everyone has chances to somehow come out of your mental health problems. If not come out to feel somewhat relieved.

The treatment was more about faith than anything else faith that you have a shot to change for the better. Support groups are in many hospitals in the Metro Detroit Area. Just look on the web or a person that may know about mental health in general. If our problems were meant to be solved by ourselves we would not be speaking the same languages. Look what humans have done for thousands and thousands of years. Whether it was the next Empire or helping your neighbor down the street we have done it all. That’s what support is, its self help. What’s wrong with help, nothing. I have help. Great! “A man that faces his problems can teach someone else how to fight their problems, but not someone that runs away.”

Failure is just part of life, it’s learning from someone or your own past mistakes. A quote from Henry Ford the man that started the assembly line a line full of other people that work on different parts that help each other to achieve a goal that it’s hard but they made it look easy. “Failure is the opportunity to begin again more intelligently.”- Henry Ford to this day still makes a tremendous impact on the auto industry and assembly lines in general. He also made a lot of mistakes in the process but learned from one another. He made jobs for people with severe mental illnesses. (Production line) Hope this letter helps someone in need of hope in their lives.

I have overcame so much in my life, childhood trauma and abuse,foster care, drug addiction, homelessness, incarceration, and mental illness. In 2016 I sought treatment for bipolar disorder, I also decided to pursue my undergraduate degree in psychology on a pursuit to become an Licensed Professional Counselor, I want to provide affordable treatment to those that need it most in our society. I am now in graduate school studying mental health counseling. I could not have done this without my medications, they saved my life and changed me for the better. 

There is no shame in having mental illness. I have bipolar disorder and it has not stopped me from pursuing my ambitions and achieving my goals. The stigma can only be overcome if you are honest with yourself about your condition. You don’t need to become an open book but the more open you are; the more people will empathize. There is a difference between empathy and pity; you don’t need anyone’s pity. You are strong because you are still alive and as long as there is breath in you, you will overcome. I have descended to the depths of madness three times in my life. All three times I recovered–these recoveries are a badge of honor and accomplishment. Each time you persevere, you show the world what you are made of. For every time you fall and get back up, you show the world that you are more than your illness. Anything that you achieve, from the small victory of getting out of bed in the morning to the accomplishments of getting your degree, starting a new job, or taking a chance on a new relationship—the fact that you persevered is testament to your iron will. Know that when people turn their backs on you because of fear, it is more a reflection of them than of yourself. Your friends love you. Your family loves you. God loves you. You will persevere and you will show the world that you are made from a tougher grade of material—a material that shines bright. Don’t hide your brightness :)

My name is Bek. I am a 34-year-old mother who has PTSD and postpartum depression, as well as unspecified bipolar disorder. For the first time in my life I actually feel somewhat stumped when it comes to writing about my mental illness and the road of recovery. I started attending NAMI meetings as part of an outpatient program, which was proceeded by my first ever manic episode and my bipolar diagnosis. 

Depression has been a part of my life since puberty and high anxiety layered itself on top of that. Sharing my story with others has been part of my overall healing and I hope by writing this that someone out there feels less alone. The episodes are real, the panic is real, the mental strain and trauma is real. You get the picture. 

I feel like my emotions have always overwhelmed me, struggling to “get out of my own mind” and did not actively seek any mental help until my mid twenties.  I initially sought out cognitive behavioral therapy which was something very foreign to me. Change your habits, change your thoughts, feel better, right?  It allowed me to move through some of the issues that had grown deep roots in my psyche and medication was prescribed to work in combination with the therapy. I didn’t really care what I put in my body. I felt like I was in permanent survival mode but at least I was taking steps to “feel better.”  I survived. I also self-medicated with marijuana, which seemed to help keep mania at bay and in general made me feel like I could handle life better.

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And I knew I wasn’t right 

So I planned on going that Friday night 

And I knew I wasn’t okay

Making it the perfect place for me to stay 

See, for most, a mental hospital isn’t a choice 

It’s one of those things where you are left without a voice 

Brought there suddenly against your will

Then before you know it, you are given a bunch of random pills 

But for me, it was where I was supposed to be

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