(I usually don’t post two things in one day, but I forgot about putting this here.)
Before the day is over, I wanted to recommit myself to having zero shame about my mental health struggles. I have Biploar II disorder, which means less intense manic episodes than Bipolar I disorder, but often even deeper depressions than those with Major Depressive Disorder and Bipolar I. I was diagnosed in 2009 after over ten years of battling what I thought was “just” depression. The diagnosis came after spending a week in the psychiatric ward at Stanford hospital, after I had a hypomanic episode followed by a deep depression and suicidal thoughts. I was in the middle of the second year of my joint degree.
Since then, I’ve had other deep depressions with suicidal thoughts. I’ve done intensive outpatient therapy where I went to group sessions every day. The last time I was 9 months pregnant with my third child, attending sessions up until I went into labor. I’ve seen over ten therapists over 20 years. I take 3 mood stabilizers/ anti-psychotic medicines every day to stay stable. I’ve persevered.
Part of that effort has been doing this on here: refusing to allow myself to be ashamed. Of course, many days I do feel ashamed. I’m so sad that I don’t do things with my kids, I feel bad when I sleep more than I “should,” when the papers aren’t coming out right or I have an off day teaching. Right now, I’m lonely on the inside even with so many lovely folks coming out to support me here in LA. That sucks and I feel silly and I feel ashamed. Most people don’t have anywhere near the support I do.
But I remind myself — and I’m reminding you — that mental illness is that — an illness. I have nothing to be ashamed about. I didn’t choose this. It’s not a part of my character. But it has made me more determined to stay healthy. And to have a passion to help others who are struggling.