I am a 30-year-old female with bipolar disorder and I am here to share my story of living with this mental health condition.

By the age of 16 years old, I had probably been diagnosed with every mental illness out there and taken every medication possible. It wasn’t until I was 24 years old and in early recovery from addiction, that I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. It took me a long time to accept the fact that I had this diagnosis. No one understood what I was dealing with. I never knew if I would wake up happy or depressed. I did tons and tons of research on bipolar disorder and found that it is partially genetic, so I decided to do some digging and look into my family. I found out that my great grandmother had died by suicide at the age of 24. My father had told me he didn’t want me to know because he blamed himself for my mental illness.

I look back, and always ask, “why me?” I feel like I was hit with the stick that gave me a mental health condition and a substance abuse disorder. Being one of three girls, I always felt like the black sheep of my family. I was always messing up and getting into trouble, especially when I would become manic. To me, mania is an outer body experience and I loved the feeling. In a matter of two weeks I spent over $20,000 because of my mania.

I have learned that bipolar disorder is not my life—it’s just part of who I am. I am not shy about it and I do public speaking about my illness. Now at the age of 30, I am a licensed master social worker working with individuals with mental health conditions. Mental illness is not something we can help and education is the key factor in getting others to understand what we are dealing with. I am finally stable on my medication and am doing the best I have been in a long time.

Even though my life isn’t where I thought it would be, coming to terms with my bipolar disorder was a major accomplishment. Don’t get me wrong—I still have my ups and downs and I still have a lot of symptoms that are very difficult to manage. NAMI is such an amazing organization with everything they do and I want to thank NAMI for always providing services and educational material to better help understand and deal with bipolar disorder.

Remember, you are not your mental illness, it is just a part of you. Stay strong and don’t stop fighting.

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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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 was first diagnosed with major depressive disorder when I was 13 years old. By the time I reached 16, a few more labels were added to the MMD. These included borderline personality disorder, bipolar disorder, post traumatic stress disorder and OCD. Fun stuff. Medication was the only treatment available at that time. My parents decided the best place for me to be was hospitalized in the mental health unit of a large teaching hospital. I felt and thought the reason for such a drastic change in my life was for their convenience, not what was best for me.

Little background, my father, a surgeon, was diagnosed with severe bipolar disorder, treatment was medication. When the medication no longer controlled the symptoms, he would stop working and sit staring blankly at the television for about 3 months. At some point, my mother would notice and send him out of town for a series of ECT. He would return from his “vacation” zombie like but after a few weeks or so, would return to his baseline personality. He always had a flat affect most of the time.

So, apparently I inherited the gene or genes for mental illness of one name or another.

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Hi my name is Robbi I’m a 43year-old mother of 3 at 32 I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Mental illness runs in my family.   My mother and grandfather were not diagnosed So unfortunately due to lack of awareness of the disease resources and lack of proper medications at 8 I lost my mother and witnessed  her suicide . At 10 I  witnessed  the  death of my grandfather to suicide also I’m a twin. Despite my extreme trauma and my losses I continue to fight for those like me who need support resources hope love kindness caring respect…most of all stop the stigma. I do not drink nor do drugs. I have no criminal  record. I have an Associate degree as an Licenced Optician. I want to do what ever I can to help who ever I can. God has seen me thru and I feel like this organization will help me achieve those goals as well as I feel thats my purpose. It brings me great joy to give others hope. I want to become a motivational speaker like Les Brown.  With Gods help I will❤

Bipolar disorder is one of the best things to ever happen to me. Yes, it was a struggle for about 3 years before I got on the right medication and got my symptoms under control. But after that, I discovered that a healthy mind with bipolar disorder can be a genius mind. Most of the great creative geniuses of all time had bipolar disorder. A lot of them lived crazy lives because there were no meds or diagnoses back then. I don’t want to brag but let me tell you what I have done since my diagnosis. I graduated law school. I created one of the world’s top 500 apps. I have become one of the leading artists under 40 in the world, exhibiting next to Picasso, and now I am in the final interview at arguably the most prestigious company in the world. 10 years ago I was very suicidal, even put a gun in my mouth. But let me tell you, if you just take your meds, do regular counseling, and avoid self medicating, you have the potential to do any of the things I have done OR MORE!

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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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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In 2004 my life changed. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I was twenty years old at the time, and I was a good student. I began feeling depressed and having memory issues. My grades began to slip. I knew something was wrong. I did a little research, and I concluded that I must have bipolar disorder. Mental illness runs in my family so I wasn’t scared to go to the mental health facility to seek help. Sure enough, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. It has been a difficult twelve years. I have had many jobs. I have acted erratic and gone years without working due to depression. I’m thirty-two now, and I am on a cocktail of medication that is beginning to work. Hopefully, I’ll be working soon. Remember to never give up hope.

My first encounter with mental illness was around age eight or nine when I found out that my dad had bipolar disorder (formerly known as manic depression). He and my mom had just gotten remarried, and he had a manic episode, which landed him in the hospital. I learned that bipolar disorder could be treated with medication, but that it is a chemical imbalance in the brain for which there is no cure. 

Bipolar disorder is a hereditary illness. I didn’t think that I had depression, but that I had just  been in depressing situations. When my parents divorced, my grades suffered. I lacked confidence. I was teased and tormented by kids in school. When I became an adult, I couldn’t hold a job, and I found myself in trouble with the law. I tried on several occasions to go to college, but I would get discouraged and quit.

In my 20s, I lived with a friend, her parents and her four siblings for about three years. She and her older brother were physically and verbally abusive towards me. I was able to get out of that situation, but I struggled with the effects of it for a long time. I became friends with a woman whom I’d met in church. We were the same age and shared similar interest, but then my “former” friend resurfaced and manipulated her way into the relationship that was blossoming between my new friend and I.

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