I am 47 years old and was diagnosed with bipolar disorder in my late teens. I was on medication for many years, but had breakthrough manic episodes many times. I never wanted to admit I had a mental illness and I sometimes quit taking my pills, which just made me manic again. I had all the textbook symptoms of manic depression: spending sprees, maxing out credit cards, losing good jobs, running away, driving erratically, sexual indiscretions and poor judgment. I had all the symptoms of mania, all the highs and lows, even the delusions and hallucinations, so I was hospitalized many, many times. I even had one ECT treatment back in the 70's.

I went through too many doctors to count and many medications until they found one that worked, which I was on for about 20 years, then it started affecting my kidneys, so they had to take me off of it. Immediately, I went into a manic episode, a really bad one. I was missing for weeks. When I was found through a missing person’s report, I was hospitalized for three weeks. Then, the experimenting to find a medication began again. After a lot of hit and miss, my doctors and I found a wonderful medication for me. I haven't had any breakthroughs or manic episodes, and I am being monitored every three months.

I am lucky to have a loving family; they were always there to help me pick up the pieces, especially my mother. I never went into the "black hole" depressions, but I do have times when I feel depressed. They usually only last for a couple of days. But after a full-blown manic episode, I used to sink into a terrible depression, though not a suicidal one.

I used to be ashamed of having bipolar, but now I accept my illness and I think part of my creativity comes from it. I love doing creative things, arts, crafts decorating and photography. This disease did NOT bring me down, I overcame it and I am stronger for having gone through it. It wasn't always easy, I went through some horrifying manic episodes, ran into some awful people that took advantage of me, but I kept my head up and still do.

I was on my own for 20 years and now I am living back with my mother, because of several manic episodes in a two year period and a back surgery that left me incapable of taking good care of myself. But, I am happy to be with the person who most loves me in this world and who has taken care of me through thick and thin from since first time this disease emerged. It is a good life again, and I intend to keep it that way!