I thought October 11, 2010 was a good day to die. Instead, it turned out to be the day I was reborn. You see, I had lived with profound depression for 20 years before waking up one April morning in 2009 in a full-blown manic episode. My mood was severely elevated. I felt invincible. I had never felt this way before, as though I were super human. I had never felt so good in my whole life. But there was a down side. For the ensuing 18 months, I behaved badly, doing things I normally would never have done. Some of the things I did are, frankly, too embarrassing to share.
On October 11, 2010, I crashed. The manic episode ended. Everything came to a screeching halt. The depression came back with a vengeance and I felt like I had nowhere to turn and no one to talk to. I was lost. I ended up attempting suicide and landed in hospital for more than two weeks. That experience changed my life, so much for the better.
That experience taught me that no one can make me well, I have to make myself well. When I first started going to therapy more than 20 years ago, I looked to my therapist to provide me the answers to my life, to tell me who I am. Since then, I have learned that all the answers are inside me if I can find the courage to look hard enough. My therapist gave me the tools to get well, I just had to find the courage to use them every day to stay well.

Recovery is about more than just wanting to be well. It is about doing the work of recovery every day to stay well. It means using our coping skills as best we can. It means reminding ourselves that is okay to have a bad day as long as we do not unpack and live there. It means reminding ourselves that we are more than our diagnoses. It means that we still may experience symptoms of depression and bipolar disorder but those are just symptoms, they are not who we are. We are so much more than depression and bipolar disorder.
I will never forget those very bad, horrible, rotten blue days or my 18-month manic episode. Those days brought me to where I am today and I am thankful for them. Those days made me who I am. I bear those scars with pride. If it were not for the bad days, I would not be able to appreciate the good days. I am grateful for that period of my life.
I firmly believe that everything happens for a reason and that we are not given more than we are able to bear. I often used to wonder, “Why me?” Now I know that the better question to ask is, “Why not me?” I live with mental illness because I am strong enough to deal with it. But it takes daily effort to manage my mental illness. It is a constant battle, but a battle I am willing to wage because it is my life I am fighting for and my life is worth living. I know now that every day is a precious gift. I can choose to live my life or I can choose to lament my condition and wallow in my symptoms. I choose the former. I choose to embrace my life and continue to do the work of recovery.
I choose to share my story in the hopes that the more we talk openly and honestly about mental illness, the weaker stigma will become. I truly believe that mental illnesses are treatable medical conditions and the more we talk about mental illness, the more people will come to understand that we who live with them are simply people battling an illness as people who live with cancer or diabetes battle illness. We who live with mental illness can lead happy, healthy productive lives. We do not have to be slaves to our symptoms or live as victims of our illnesses. We can become victors of our lives by practicing self-care and using our coping skills to overcome our symptoms. We can become the people we always were meant to be and manage our illnesses as do people who live with other treatable conditions.








