Living with bipolar disorder is like riding a roller coaster that you didn’t choose to get on, and one that never stops. It is a life marked by extreme highs and lows, periods of intense energy and productivity followed by phases of depression. For me, this condition has shaped my daily routine, my relationships, and my view of the world in profound ways.
I have bipolar disorder. Saying these words out loud, or even writing them down, has taken me years of struggle and self-reflection. But today, I choose to share my story, not only to unburden my own heart but also to shed light on a condition that affects millions of people worldwide, yet remains shrouded in misunderstanding and stigma.
It wasn’t until later in my life that I was finally diagnosed with bipolar disorder. It took four days of testing with a team of psychiatrists at three doctors’ offices after years of seeking help. The diagnosis was both a relief and a burden.
On one hand, I finally had a name for what I was experiencing; on the other, I had to come to terms with the fact that I had a chronic mental health condition that would require lifelong management. The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders in part describes my condition as manic-depressive disorder, a mental health condition characterized by extreme mood swings that include emotional highs (mania or hypomania) and lows (depression). These swings can affect sleep, energy, activity, judgment, and behavior.
Unlike the normal ups and.