I am creative, spontaneous, loving, caring, funny, nurturing, intelligent, beautiful, adoring, kind, selfless... and I have bipolar disorder.

I am 28 years old with a recent diagnosis of Bipolar II with rapid cycling. I spent 14 years wondering what was wrong with me, why I felt the way I did. I received too many diagnoses to count, and have tried almost every psychiatric medication you can think of.

14 years of hell. 14 years of no one understanding. 14 years of frustration. 14 years of wanting to scream, yell, cry, stay silent. Four suicide attempts. One divorce. Relationships that still don't make sense. Jobs that never worked out. Impulsiveness. Drug abuse. Loneliness. Reckless driving and blackouts. Extreme self-loathing and self-mutilation. Paranoia. Inexplicable highs, and tremendous lows. I just wanted to know WHY.

Now I know why, and I see things differently.

I am now an advocate for bipolar awareness. I shout about it to the world. I do not wish my pain upon anyone else, the pain of NOT KNOWING WHY. The media portrays people with bipolar as "crazy", and that sickens me. We are discriminated against. We cannot get decent health coverage because we will be "too expensive". Life insurance? Forget about that. No way. Apparently to insurance providers, we are suicidal time bombs. People may treat us differently, as if we are contagious. "Coming out" about our illness, even to close friends, is risky. A lot of us cannot work regular jobs. It hurts. It's painful. There are days we wish we did not exist.

BUT WE DO. WE WILL. WE ARE.

You may think I am just one voice. If so, start shouting. Complain. Yell. Scream. Report stigma in the media. Complain to insurance companies. We need fairness and respect. We deserve that much! YOU deserve that much! Your loved one deserves that much!

Yes, I have my up days, and my down days. They still hurt. I am getting stabilized on medications. But, I am not alone. Educating my family has helped; advocacy and support groups make me feel like I am no longer just one. I am part of a group of many. I will never suffer alone.

So this illness is a part of me. And it always will be. So I accept it, I embrace it. I will not allow it to break me. I am like you, or your friend, or your lover, or your child. I have bipolar disorder, manic depression. And my voice WILL be heard.