Two years ago I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder.  My mania and depression had gone undetected for a few years and as an art student attending college at the time it was often overlooked as deeply emotional or overly creative. 

When my mania took a stronger hold it could no longer be passed off as simply artistic but instead outright dangerous.  Some thought I was even possessed.

After a week of irregular sleeping, obsessive analyzing and journaling and a strong belief that I was the modern Snow White capable of communicating with the animals, I felt powerful.  It was as though a strong force within, controlled and connected me to everything.  At one point, I thought my mood was governing the weather.  The peak of my mania, due to a complete depletion of chemicals, caused me to take to the roads.  Running red lights, tailing cars and stopping in front of every house to “bless” it, I took on a new delusion as the Virgin Mary.  As I continued to spin my tires my mind spun out of control. 

Thankfully, at 2am, a cop- and then two more- proceeded to pull me over.  They found me in Leroy; half way between Buffalo and Rochester.  My dad picked me up, and the next morning he and my mom admitted me to the psych ward where I stayed for another twenty-six days; three weeks.  I captured my stay in a journal that I kept but to a healthy mind it is incomprehensible and further shows my disassociation and hallucinations.

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I have bipolar disorder but I’m more than a diagnosis.  Those two words, those two stigmatizing, frightful pieces of medical jargon haunt me.  Bipolar.  Disorder.  You turn on the news and you hear about the latest school shooting - bipolar disorder.  You read about the latest murder-suicide in an otherwise normal subuub - bipolar disorder.  And that’s all it takes.  I’m dangerous.  I can fly off the handle without warning, can’t be trusted with sharp objects, a ticking time bomb waiting to explode, etc…  it’s like having our very own scarlet letter but instead of an ‘A’, we get a ‘C’ for crazy.  What’s funny is had I never mentioned it, you would have never even known.  The truth is that I’m a bigger risk to myself than to anybody else.  

I’m genetically predisposed to mental illness: father was abused by his father and his mind further punished by the spoils of war and my mother came from a long line of bipolar sufferers.  I guess you could say that I won the genetic lottery.  I always knew I was different growing up; I could think faster than the others kids but controlling the content was next to impossible.  I was prone to emotional outbursts that went from extreme fits of anger to the deep recesses of depression.  I was dark and moody but also an outgoing over-achiever.  I didn’t belong in any one category.

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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!

I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder when I was 33 years old. I had symptoms since I was a teenager. Prior to the diagnosis I always had to be ready for the climb into depression. I would ask myself, “when is it going to hit me next?”

Imagine just starting a new job as an elementary art teacher, when a mood swing/disorder struck me. It was so difficult, I had to quit my job (in the autumn) and start all over in a new state (with help from my family).  Imagine not being able to work in the field that I had studied for, after graduating from college 13 years post high school.  I was lucky, I got a job at the local hospital, and progressed. It was when I was working on an adult psychiatric unit, when the mood swing struck me again. I then had the support of one of the psychiatrists who properly diagnosed me. I was started on the correct medication. 

I no longer had to wonder when the disability would set me back again.  I cannot say that my life since then was always good. I had many challenges to continue to face. In 2000 I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. I was divorced. I, of course had much time of denial. did I really have this illness?  Wasn’t one major illness enough?  I continue to travel through life with energy and passion. I have decided that no illness would get the best of me. Life truly is what you can make of it, It can be beautiful or ugly. It all comes from our power to choose.

I was diagnosed 7 years ago with bipolar disorder. I grew up in what most would say a normal family; only most didn’t know my mom had bipolar disorder and was not on meds most of our childhood. Watching her in and out of the hospital and not able to be the mother I needed and wanted made be realize that if I ever was diagnosed I would take control of it because I didn’t want my kids to see me like my mom. You can break the cycle and teach your children that mental illness is ok with the gift of medicine. For a year I did lots of learning about myself and my triggers and how to recognize when I’m not doing well before anything happened. I’m very in tune with my body and mental health. I’m able to tell when my Med levels are low and I call immediately my dr. I was only hospitalized at the beginning and haven’t been since because I’m a firm believer this is no different then high bp or diabetes. I surround myself with people who can also help me notice when I’m not doing great and I listen to them. Also I believe God will use anything that is meant to tear us apart and down to glorify Him and show others when we trust and hand over everything to Him we will preserver and be stronger. My children have watched me take control of my illness and be okay talking about it. I am not ashamed I’m proud that I can show them you can live a happy fulfilled life with a mental illness and can accomplish any goals I set. Change starts with one person standing up and taking control and showing others to not be afraid. I pray this helps someone.

What does bipolar disorder feel like? This is a question I get often from friends and family. I’ve tried to give them a quick elevator pitch but have never been able to fully put in to words how truly debilitating this illness is. Below, I’ve noted what bipolar disorder feels like to ME.

It’s lying to yourself that you’re ok when you’re not

It’s feeling personally victimized when the pharmacist tells you that your prescription isn’t ready yet

It’s feeling both uncomfortable and insulted when a psychiatrist asks if you’re homicidal

It’s being dependent on a small pill(s) to get you through the day

It’s the fear of being rejected when you tell someone you have this illness

It’s being on vacation only to realize you forgot your meds and interrupting the fun trying to transfer them to a pharmacy near you

It’s the random waves of anxiety that interrupt your day

It’s making impulsive decisions and regretting them later

It’s the hollowed out depression that subsequently creeps in after a bout of mania

It’s the twitches, muscle spasms, and hives you get as a side effect of taking your medication

It’s having to check that “box” when you fill out your hiring paperwork for a new job

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Dear NAMI:                                                                                                                         6/6/2016

I would like to share with others what has helped me maintain my Bipolar Disorder under control in case it can help others stay healthy.

I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder in 2003. I have always taken my medications and still even with  great Doctors and family support, I was not able to avoid the mental hospital in 2010. My mania episodes have always been so scary and I would loose touch with reality and the depressions that followed, seemed never to end, that’s the way I saw them. But I always got better, and I always got sick again.

In 2014 I started to have some odd health issues that resembled symptoms of a stroke and also had tachycardias while I was at work,  and I started seeing Neurologists, Cardiologists, an Inmunologist…. It took many months but I was able to identify the root of my symptoms: fluorescent lights, cell towers, WIFI… later my cell phone and other things too.

Nobody listened because I have a pre-existing mental condition and attributed some of my symptoms to panic attacks and OCD.

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I was diagnosed as bipolar when I was forty years old. Twenty years ago. It was the best gift that the universe and the psychiatrist  have given me. When he suggested I had bipolar disorder after making a mayor fool of myself, I said. “I’m not bipolar. I’m an artist.” He said, “many artists have bipolar disorder.” I said, “it’s my temperament because I am a Jew.” He said, “Many Jews suffer from bipolar disorder.” Then he said, “Why don’t you pretend you have bipolar disorder, take the medication and see what happens.” Smart. I agreed. I took medication and the world started to make sense to me. I understood what people said, and what they meant. It saved my life. I moved to a community in NYC where people like and respect me. I work full time job in housekeeping, got married to Alex, write stories and love my life. I keep taking the medication as if it was manna from heaven. My manna. Thank you.

I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder when I was near the age of four. At that time, I was one of the few children with such a severe case. My psychiatrist for almost a year went back and fourth diagnosing me from schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. I was destined to be bipolar, my moms side of her family has mental problems. I was unfortunately the only sister who ended up with this mental illness. But what really pushed it over the already mentally breaking point? When I lived with my parents from up until I was shy of 4, was the abuse and neglect. My mom would drink and abuse. Get mad over nothing and abuse. I guarantee you, we had no such thing as food. And if there was any, it was beyond expired. I remember running to my neighbors houses, just to get away. Now, I was young when I left to live with my grandparents, but I just can’t forgive or forget things. My mom came home from a bar, married to another guy while married to my dad. So my mom left, my dad decided to truck drive, and my grandparents raised my sisters and I. Yes, to this day, we live with my grandparents. I honestly, have never met such a strong woman like my grandma. My grandma is my mom. My grandma was the one who sat there while I abused her, yelled at her, spit at her… She never gave up. She was the one who sat through psychiatrist appointments and made me talk, helped me get medication, helped me slowly get better. I used to bang my head on walls and floors. Why? I didn’t feel pain. But, I didn’t want to live. I was almost hospitalized twice, have taken and experimented with tons of medication to get me better, suffered through liver damage, plus the countless blood tests. I still to this day, almost 19 years old, suffer the state of life and mind. I will forever see a psychiatrist. I will forever take medication. Just please remember. That you aren’t alone. You are worth life. I know how it feels to fight demons that are beyond your mental capacity. I know how alone you feel. I understand the tears of not understanding half the things you do. I understand what anxiety and depression is. If I get too stressed, I have a panic attack on top of a bipolar episode. Trust me, I understand. You are beautiful, never forget that.

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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