Hello my name is Tiffany Rios I am 15 years old and suffer from depression, anxiety, ocd, and bipolar disorder. I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety in the second grade so it has been a while dealing with my mental health. Lucky for me my family also suffers with there own mental health issues so I was lucky enough to get help at an early age. I grew up with mentors and therapy for as long as I could remember. 

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I am currently 24 years old. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder at the age of 17 after a manic episode that had me up for 3 days with burst of energy and anxiety. It was strange, it was exciting, but most of all it was scary for myself and family. After staying in a inpatient facility for a few weeks and having my 18th birthday in the hospital. I felt the love, compassion, and selflessness of the workers there. I felt so lost in my own mind yet also comforted that I was somewhere that provided me with hope that things were going to be okay.The people there and caregivers gave the strength to forgive myself for the stress I had put on my loved ones. I look back after 7 years and think about what would have happened without the help of mental health professionals, medicine, and the compassion of the hospital community. This is why organizations like Nami are so important. The stigma of mental illness needs to go away, We are not alone and our community can only grow stronger. I want to help others who were scared like me talk to family members who may not understand and share my story. I continue to fight the stigma, ignorance, and the illness everyday and I know the NAMI community is right there with me. You are not alone

My name is Gthreesongs why because I don’t really like sharing my name because of things that happened in the past. I probably suffer from bipolar disorder or depression and anxiety and maybe Schizophrenia but there is hope for people that suffer from it just have good friends and love life and your family or if something is happening where you don’t like your family chose your friends.

I’m a survivor! My late twenties and thirties were unseemingly difficult times of anxiety, depression, and mania. Financial hardship, domestic  violence, and lack of job security fueled this cycle. I had been misdiagnosed and misunderstood by medical professionals, family, and friends. I was finally diagnosed  at 38 years old shortly after giving birth to my second child. The pregnancy threw me into a  crisis. Why did it take so long? I compensated intellectually for the most part. As a special educator, formally trained registered nurse, and other experiential knowledge, I knew all the right things to say and do. As an attractive socialite, I appeared to be fine too. Time ran out in my late thirties. My body and EVERYONE was sick and tired of me. Emergency room visits and hospitalizations eventually justified why I couldn’t get my act together. It took several years before I got the right psychiatrist, counselors, caseworker, support groups, medications, diet, excercise, sleep routine etc. I’m still working daily at perfecting holistic care for myself while raising a 6 year old, guiding my 18 year old college student, working part time and actively contributing to my community. I thank God I can now help others and their families live with mental illness. 

I’m going to be very honest with you all that are reading this. I come from a broken family with an unstable mother and a drug addicted father. I have a bipolar disorder and suffer from panic attacks and self harm and depression. I have had many friends and a couple of family members who had committed suicide. And, when it comes to me having suicidal thoughts I realize I shouldn’t do it because I’ve been through that heart break and I don’t want anymore people going through it. I started cutting two years ago at the age of 12. I look at cutting as a pain re leaver and a get away. After I cut myself I feel ashamed and then the ashamed feeling makes me want to cut more, which I end up doing. I always wear pants and long sleeves because of my scars. 

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It was June 2003 when I was first diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder which, no doubt, had gone undiagnosed for my entire life. My life was sprinkled with extreme anxiety attacks, OCD, manic episodes, and especially severe depression. By the time I had my own family – a wife and two boys of my own – my depression had gotten out of control.

For me depression was and is extended periods of time inside a six foot cube with no stimulus. No light sneaking in through my lids. No sound other than shallow, rushed breaths. No breeze touching my face. Alone.

But depression is just as much about ‘fullness’ as it is about emptiness. I struggled with an overload of negativity that reached deep into my soul to drag out any signs of hope and love. All at once I would be inundated with anger for what’s happened and about to happen, sorrow for those I’ve lost - some in the most tragic of ways - and the deep loss of who I thought I was. The loss of being the go-to-marketing-guy at work, the loving husband, the fun dad, the brave youth hockey coach, and the bread winner. 

As time passed the depression showed up in suicidality and ultimately attempts leaving me hospitalized five different times. I was put on Short-term disability three years in a row and forced out on Long-term disability in 2006. All the while, the doctors toiled to find the right mix of meds that would stabilize me and help me have as much of a normal life as possible. They added 32 courses of Electroconvulsive Therapy which jarred me out of the most severe depression and suicidality.

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I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder at age fifteen. No one in my family had ever heard of this illness. It was very difficult to accept it, to accept therapy and medication especially.  Through the years I had relapses, beginning at age 18. I’ve had three manic episodes and one depression episode. 

The depression episode was by far the scariest. I had been depressed since October 2015 and it continued on til early March 2016. That is when I couldn’t take it anymore. I was hearing voices and having suicidal thoughts. It got so bad that not only did I have planned out what I was going to do, I attempted it.

The thing that was so difficult this time around was that I didn’t know how to catch myself falling into an episode. With mania I’ve learned how to watch patterns of things that seem to be leading me into an episode. This depression was completely different. I would spend all day sleeping and completely isolating myself. When the voices came and I attempted to commit suicide I voluntarily checked myself into the hospital.

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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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I have a family member with Bipolar Disorder and myself have been dealing with depression and anxiety. As well, I have been getting support with a prayer group and friends at my church. Doing research and studies to have knowledge about it. God is our strength and can get us through this..

i have schizoaffective bipolar type disorder as well as gad and ocd, i had bpd as a prior diagnosis as well with just bipolar disorder. i have been dealing with anxiety everyday as well as flashback of trauma snd family abuse, i was sexually abused twice, everyday is a challenge, mainly my thoughts and fears and paranoia it all causes my depression, my mood i can get pretty angry even in public a few times, i have family that knows im ill but not very understanding and much supportive, i suffer from being insecure bc of my disease or disorder whichever and ashamed bc i know im someone u can easily judge. i had a hard life, anxiety runs in my family and bipolar i believe. ive had past suicide attempts which were serious and glad im still here, i dont have any friends who understand my illness or or to much supportive of it. im on psyche meds that are somewhat helping.