“I still feel like I’m living half a life.”

There was not a specific moment when I realised things were not exactly right when I kept crying everywhere – at work, while driving- without any reason. I think I was too manic to realise or to remember other symptoms, apart from the uncontrollable crying.

I mentioned this to a friend on medical leave, recently diagnosed with depression, and she advised that I seek help. So I did, I went and got a referral letter from a doctor (who made me promise to seek help immediately) and drove myself to a hospital’s emergency unit.

My initial diagnosis was dysthymia. I was only made aware that it had changed when the hospital’s pharmacists asked me if I wanted to help them out by taking a survey for bipolar patients. Most psychiatrists or psychiatric department doctors do not bother. In my experience, the extent of their help was to give medication and that’s it. I had to request an official diagnosis statement through the records department of the hospital. This of course required payment.

When I was first diagnosed, I tried explaining my diagnosis to my circle of old/ close friends, and it did not fare well. Mostly I think because they are married and have their own family and life to think of.

I also took offence because of how they treated me and my illness- one of them called me possessed. A second claimed that their life is worse. Another said that she bet if she went and got diagnosed, she would have bipolar too. She never did, oddly.

The last few I bothered telling were nice, but they’re busy with their lives and careers. I don’t want to feel like a burden so I didn’t keep in touch as much after. Anyway, I did read somewhere that you lose 1 in 4 relationships after you’re diagnosed, and that number is not too far from the truth.

My family was nice for a hot moment, but I don’t think that my parents would ever acknowledge that I’m disabled (I have a disability card from the government). Anything that I have to do with my disability – be it my treatment, my daily struggle, me keeping up with my meds, or any paperwork- it’s all on me. My two little sisters help sometimes and they’re the only two people in the world that bothered, I think. Though I don’t think I could ask much from them because they’re about 10 years younger and they’re still in uni. So, it wouldn’t be fair to them.

I have a full-time job, and I’ve managed to hold onto it since I was diagnosed with bipolar in 2018. It’s a daily battle. People at work know mostly, but that didn’t stop them from making insensitive jabs about disability or mental illness within my earshot.

At my old workplace (I recently transferred branches), I was quite good at my job and therefore I was given so many responsibilities- even more so than other able people. It was a challenge because I am good at what I do, but with my bipolar, there are some terrible consequences (manic/depressive episodes and symptoms).

I was transferred when I scored poorly on a mental health test conducted on all workers. At my new workplace, I wasn’t given as much responsibility because the admins are more understanding, and that’s good I suppose. I like it much better here, and the commute has improved too. But I still feel like I was treated unjustly with the way management handled the situation.

Some days I only have enough energy to wake up and go to work, and I accept that. I still feel like I’m living half a life though, like I’m never going to achieve my full potential.

I had one or two counselling session when I was first diagnosed. It wasn’t continued. I think it’s because it wasn’t a right fit and they don’t have anyone else available. I keep a journal using an app. It helps to keep track of my mood.

Most people think ‘crazy’ the moment they hear bipolar, thanks to most media representation. There’s also this preconceived notion that people who have bipolar are not capable of managing their lives. Some people treat people with bipolar as if they’re mentally impaired. That’s not true either.