I waited 32 years before finally finding out that my mental illness/chemical imbalance was Bipolar Disorder. Due to the lack and difficulty of getting proper mental health evaluations and my mother's vanity I knew I had depression but could not explain the times of euphoria, the nights not needing sleep, the spending sprees and of course the perfectionism. When I was 14 my mother went into hospital for a breakdown but it was never spoken of. Later in my 20s I would get depressed but I had no time to think about it as I had four small children five years and under and my husband was out to sea.

In my 30s I went to technical school to learn a non-traditional trade to help support the family -- this is when managing with only a couple of hours sleep came in handy and I thought it was normal. I went back to school in 1990 to upgrade in my trade and was hired into a male-dominated job and because in my mind I had to be better, I stressed myself right into my first breakdown in 1993, into the NS Hospital and one of many suicide attempts. At this time everyone thought it was just depression as there was nothing in the family history of anything more serious. Why? Because with Bipolar Disorder when you don't know your history, why would you tell anyone when you're high and then you plunge down so deep it's painful.

I felt guilty and still feel guilty to this day because of the time I spent away from my children, because work was more important, or spending money on useless things, etc. I have told my therapist when I'm depressed and feel isolated -- it's like I'm in a dark room using my feet to keep the door pried open to keep some light in because if it closes I'm afraid I'm gone. After another stay at the NS Hospital (but this time at the Short Stay Unit), I carried on for a couple more years living in depression taking different medications some working for awhile but most not. Working too much because of the racing thoughts, deciding to build a house just because I wanted to. Then finally in January 2002 a blizzard was coming and I became petrified to drive home from work, and I broke completely apart. My manager was not happy and the nurse was telling him I had to leave, I was crying like a child and had lost all hope. I was finally sent to the Outpatient Unit of the NS Hospital that diagnosed me with Bipolar Disorder and after painfully filling out a diary for two weeks I had my answer -- I had Bipolar Disorder.

Sadly due to government cuts for whatever ridiculous reasons this program was cut so I don't know how many people are lost still. It hasn't been an easy road -- there have been big steps and little ones and many falls and many medication changes which are still changing every time I think finally! -- my brain does a hiccup. I won't paint a rosy picture completely, the day I found out I had Bipolar Disorder my mother said "I have that too but I didn't want to tell anyone". I'm bitter and I have no contact with her as the suicide attempts and pain may have ended years earlier and my own family may be whole now. I have also gone deep into depression a few times but now I know when it starts. I also know when I begin my "hyper" mode and let my doctor or therapist know as soon as possible. The biggest gain in my mental health is that I have no problem telling people what I have. I was in a high-skilled stressful job and if it can happen to me it can happen to anyone, I have no shame in that. My hope is to get rid of some of the stigma that goes with having a mental ilness/chemical imbalance.