For over two years I’ve traveled down the winding dark road of depression. During that time I was hospitalized for depression six times. I have been suicidal twice and sometimes, even now, thoughts of death still echo in my mind. I self mutilate; my right arm is a cross-stitch of scars. I went down the alphabet of medications with little relief from my symptoms. Many of my nights were spent curled up into a ball on the floor of my den; not wanting to see or be seen by other people.

I thought this was how my life was going to be--cowering in seclusion while the blackness of depression engulfed me like a shroud. Then one day I met with a new psychiatrist and he changed my life. After carefully reviewing my symptoms and my life history he told me that I had bipolar disorder. He switched my medications and within weeks I felt like a new person.

I no longer isolate myself from family and friends. I am able to work without the feeling of having to push myself through the day. Much more importantly, I feel alive. I notice the little things in life more now, a single yellow leaf falling to the ground, the shape of clouds in the sky. I went from longing for death to embracing all that life has to offer.