Recovery has been a journey for me, rather than a fixed destination. My struggles began at the young age of 16, but it wasn’t until 19 that I received my diagnosis of bipolar disorder. What initially appeared as low moods, crying and teenage angst had evolved into something far more scary. I started to have thoughts of self-harm and suicide, alongside delusions and hallucinations. I could see dementors, the happiness- and life-sucking creatures from the Harry Potter series. Fortunately, I had an invaluable support system.
In those days, discussing mental health openly was rare, but my family proved to be exceptional in understanding and supporting me. Their acceptance of my need for external help was probably the difference between life and death. And so I worked closely with my psychologist and psychiatrist to manage my symptoms and find the right combination of medication.
A decade later, I’m still living with bipolar disorder, managing it through a combination of medication, therapy, and self-care practices including exercise and meeting friends. Some days are challenging when I can’t function until late afternoon or when my energy feels boundless. But I am finding and creating a life that works for me.
I have a job that allows flexibility for those days when I can’t function. I have a supportive circle of friends who understand my condition. I have family that has been there unequivocally for me. And over time, through this carefully constructed support system, I’ve become adept at recognising and managing potential episodes, preventing severe lows and manic highs.
My recovery journey has not been easy, with several relapses, but it has made me, “me”. I have learnt self-awareness, intuition, and valuable life experiences. Ultimately, while my normal might not look like everyone else’s, it works for me!