It doesn't have to be the end of your life.

"I was 15 years old when I first experienced depression and it was neither subtle nor insidious. Within a month, I went from a relatively happy, if not manic-ly busy teenager to a lethargic, miserable wreck, who wanted only to die. But, at that point, I had never even heard the words anxiety or depression, not to mention bipolar. So, I suffered for the next 3 years, alone, with crashing lows and brief highs with no one to share these extreme, confusing emotions with. Eventually this silence evolved into a severe eating disorder, and friends and teachers would pull my now 40 lb-lighter frame aside and ask me if I was ok. I didn’t know how to answer their questions because I didn’t understand what was happening to me at that time. But their concern planted the seed in my mind that the places my body and mind were going were killing me.

By the time I was 18 I was so severely isolated, suicidal, and sick with my eating disorder and depression, I dropped out of my senior year of high school to attend an intensive eating disorder clinic. Although, I do not remember much from this time, it did set me on a course away from my eating disorder and towards recovery, and today I am proud to consider myself “recovered” from my ED. It was at that same clinic that I met my current psychiatrist (who after 2 years, and many depressive, suicidal, and psychotic episodes later, eventually diagnosed me with Bipolar disorder).

I think the hardest part with having a severe mental illness is grieving the person you once were. No matter what I do, I will never again be the happy, care-free person I was when I was younger. Most likely I will probably have to take medicine for the rest of my life.

I have gotten to the point in my illness to where I am limited in my activities because of sensory sensitivity. I also do not have the same freedom as my peers to party or drink alcohol because missing sleep can trigger an episode and alcohol interacts harmfully with my medications. But the most troubling obstacle is the mild cognitive impairment I have acquired over the years because of the illness because I love going to school and learning, but lack of focus/motivation/energy can make it extremely challenging at times.

However, now that I am on medication and my episodes are fewer and farther between I am able to move past much of the fear and grief surrounding my illness and recognize the positive ways in which it has shaped me as a person instead of just focusing on all the suffering it causes.

My illness has given me a passion for studying psychology and neuroscience. It has also taught me self-compassion and empathy towards others. Because of my experience with my illness, I know that when I graduate I want to spend my life helping other people with severe mental illness.

This illness has also taught me that I am not invincible; that I have limits. It is a very humbling experience to not be able to get out of bed, or being sent to mental hospitals, or to be told you are not thinking or speaking rationally (when having hallucinations and delusions.) At first these comments would devastate me, but now I accept these things as part of my reality and that it is ok to slows down at times or even take time away from life to care for myself.

At the end of the day, having a mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of, and as painful as it is, it does not have to be the end of your life. With acceptance, knowledge, and a strong support system you really can carve out a life worth living and recover those parts of yourself you thought you had lost to your illness. As humans, we are more than our productivity, or our grades, or our wealth. I truly believe the key to wellness is to live a low stress life, find small happiness throughout our day, and focus on what we want to give back to the world during our lives."

Hearts of AM ~ #14