I took being called a “free spirit” as a compliment. What I’ve learned is there is nothing free about being a “free spirit.” Especially if “free spirited” actually masked a mental health diagnosis that went misdiagnosed and improperly treated for years. The losses personally, financially, and professionally have been substantial.

That is not to say that no good has come of it. There are people, places, experiences, and successes that have also transpired. I wouldn’t be sitting here today if it weren’t for many of the people I’ve met over the years who watched the cycles of my illness. I wouldn’t have met some of them if it weren’t for where my illness has taken me, physically and mentally. And there is my core of family and childhood friends who have literally stood by me as I fought my diseased brain to save my life.

And yes, it is a disease–a disease that requires treatment just like diabetes or heart disease. A disease that is fatal if not properly treated with medication and therapy. Do I take responsibility for choices I’ve made in spite of that? Absolutely. Would I have made all of the same choices? Probably not. Nevertheless, what I’ve chosen has brought me to where I am.

There is forgiveness I’ve not yet asked for to loved ones I’ve hurt, and thank you’s I’ve not yet expressed to loved ones who’ve stood by me. At least not adequately if there is such a thing.

There is also grace I have not yet given myself. Moments of shame and guilt that come on so suddenly it feels like something has grabbed me by the throat that have eroded my self-worth. Lack of faith in my decision-making that has eroded my self-confidence. Lack of trust in others that has increased my self-isolation. These will take time to overcome, but I’m working on them.

And there is always the center of my life–my daughter. In spite of my most recent episodes after her birth, I have been the best mother I could be. She was young enough not to see and I was lucky enough to still be able to be a good mom. Have I been as good of a mom as I wanted to be? No, but none of us are perfect parents. I live in fear that as she gets older, she will see an episode, and the fear of that will keep me fighting this disease with medicine and therapy. Worse than that, I fear the fact that the disease is hereditary means that she will inherit this illness, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

All I can do for now though is look at her and know we are well for now. I look at my today as much as possible, and when the dark taps me on the shoulder, her spirit and joyfulness holds it at bay. I remember that it is a miracle I’m still here. I have faith that I can overcome what is to come if I take my medication and recognize when episodes are starting. So, while being a free spirit isn’t free, it has made me rich in the ways that matter even with its costs.