When I was in the early stages of recovery from my manic episode in 2018, I would constantly question just how impactful this diagnosis, and this disease, would be on my future. Nearly 6 years later, I’m still not sure, but the picture is certainly much clearer.
Releasing (In)Sane was akin to slapping a badge on my chest with ostentatious letters across it, making sure that anyone who cast a look in my direction would immediately know what I had previously regarded as a shameful admission of my reality - I am mentally ill. In some way, revealing this truth to the world provided more freedom than I had ever imagined.
Previously, I was, without fail, sheepish in my admissions to suffering from Bipolar. Just as some people had instilled in me, I felt that it wasn’t something to be advertised. Yet, throughout all of the years between when I started writing (In)Sane and the day that the first paper copy of it graced my hands, one thought resonated - the negatives of being so unabashedly candid about my struggles with this disease would be far exceeded by the positives that it will bring to others. During the times when I doubted my decision to self-publish, this belief became my solace.
Now, it has been nearly 6 months since I shared my story with the world. It truly is the bearing of my soul, and I still contemplate how others must see me after learning such intimate details about my life. Most often, the feedback followed a common trend - people were simply shocked at the fact that, although I had appeared normal on the surface, I was engrossed in struggle for most of my life, at constant war with the volatile moods that Bipolar brings. In moments like these, I embrace it, and am grateful for this new identity of mine - one confident enough to share my story, and not shy away from the way that others might view me as a result.
In a few weeks, I will be doing my first speaking engagement, talking with families whose loved ones are struggling with or refusing treatment. It is the first of what I hope will become a defining constant in my life - spreading awareness about the Mental Health Crisis, and the severity of its consequences within our society. Although there has never been a time when speaking out about mental illness has been more accepted than today, there is still a long way to go for people who continue to fear the repercussions of admitting that there is a problem, or who are deterred by the feelings of shame that often accompany revealing such a well-kept secret.
Apart from the desperate need for funding to provide more care, healthcare workers, and programs for those who suffer from mental illness, I sincerely believe that education on the matter is the most critical in tackling this issue head-on. Although it cannot entirely prevent the consequences of mental illness, educating as many people as possible is the best way of arming ourselves for this battle. As I have expressed previously, the question of whether or not a conversation about mental health in my adolescence would have changed the trajectory of my life remains, even though I have long ago found the answer - of course, it would have. I just didn’t have the resources or the knowledge to identify the issue, and seek treatment, until it was too late.
So, that’s what this journey is all about. The more people learn about mental health and its importance in everyday life, even for those who do not suffer from mental illness, the better equipped we are to wage war against it. Recognizing symptoms before they become all-encompassing. Knowing when and how to involve a mental healthcare professional in treatment or prevention. Recognizing that, when we support the health of those around us, we all become stronger. These truths are the ones that I hope mine will reveal for those who partake in my story.
So, I choose to speak now, so that, with any luck, others may find their peace.
