“My bipolar episodes often make it feel like it is impossible to succeed.”

I have Bipolar Disorder Type 1, which means that I get both full blown depression and mania. My depression started when I was about 15 years old, but I didn’t see a therapist until I was 19 years old. I was suicidal and my friend encouraged me to see a therapist at that point.

After two or so months of hearing about my symptoms, my therapist referred me to a psychiatrist because she thought my symptoms sounded a lot like bipolar. At the time, I experienced manic symptoms with psychosis and extreme depression with self harm and suicidality.

I went and saw the psychiatrist who confirmed that I do have bipolar (and got a second opinion). Since then every new psychiatrist I’ve seen, inpatient and outpatient, have confirmed the diagnosis – probably 10+ times.

I also realized that I was queer when I was about 15 years old, so I definitely see an overlap there. I was scared about not being accepted which triggered my depression, anxiety, and suicidal ideation. I actually think that my first hospitalization was key in my coming out as gay (even though they were seven months apart) because it confirmed that my family had my back no matter what.

My bipolar can be a huge strain on the people around me. My friends have been through self harm with me, suicidal ideation, fights brought on my bipolar anger and anxiety, and unpredictable behaviors. I think I’m lucky though, I know who my real friends are because they stick with me through it all.

It’s definitely impacted past romantic relationships too in similar ways. To be in my life is to understand that my brain works a little differently and be patient with me. I’m a full time PhD student in education and my bipolar episodes often make it feel like it is impossible to succeed.

Asking for help is definitely a challenge because it makes me feel like I am ‘less than’. I just went through a mixed episode that made it hard to get any work done and I felt ashamed that I couldn’t be more successful like my peers. At the same time, in my program, I am navigating what it means to not use pronouns and share that experience with my professors and peers. It feels very vulnerable to do both – to ask to be known by no pronouns and to ask for recognition of mental illness – simultaneously.

I have a lot of privilege as a very educated person I think. That is, people tend to believe my reports related to my diagnosis. I also sometimes just won’t share the diagnosis if I don’t think it will go over well. But, my PhD advisor does know and she always asks before assuming anything.

I think people tend to brush over my gender identity, maybe because it makes them uncomfortable. Even close members of my cohort will get pronouns wrong, for example, and then ignore what they’ve done. I’m also lucky because I have lived in very progressive cities so my inpatient and outpatient care has been very accepting of my queer identity. Sometimes I will withhold that information if I’m not feeling comfortable though.

Last time I was in inpatient I was in a young adult unit and I met so many students and queer folks, I still keep in contact with some of them today as we continue to share experiences.