Me, an illness, and recovery

My name is Barb . . . and I have bipolar disorder. For much of my life, I reversed these two statements and felt that I was my disorder first and a person second. It has taken me many years to learn that I have my own identity, strengths, dreams, and hopes. I used to base my entire life on the fact that I had a disorder that affected my day to day life and I tailored the way I lived accordingly.

I am not sure when that magic transition occurred where I changed from thinking that people could look at me and see that I was a "manic-depressive" but somehow, somewhere along the way, I began to look in the mirror and say "I'm Barb. . . and I have many talents and things that I should be proud of." I think that part of what makes a person go through life thinking that the disorder is who they are, is the degree to which it can take over your life. This was particularly so for me, as I had also become deeply embroiled in the mental health system - living in boarding homes, being in hospital, seeing an endless parade of counsellors, and so on. It seems that everything I did and said was done with the consideration of how my actions could impact on my illness. Having been disabled enough to receive disability benefits, I was also wrapped up in the struggle of how I was to make it financially every day. Add to this concern, the physical and emotional side effects of the various medications - weight gain, numb and fuzzy feelings - life seemed like a bother and a pain. Self-image was a huge problem.

If pushed, I think the key to my recovery was my curiosity. Never having been content to be told that I had such and such disability, I sought information - what was it I had, what was my prognosis, and what could I do about it? This curiosity was furthered by an incorrect diagnosis, which literally drove me to finding the correct diagnosis so I could get the right treatment.

So, I embraced my curiosity and read. I devoured dozens, if not hundreds of books, articles and brochures. I wanted to know what was expected of me, or rather what were the "limitations" that every one else assumed would be placed on my life because of my disability. This knowledge and the dissatisfaction with what people thought I would do, created a fierce determination within myself that I was not going to live up to those expectations, but was going to surpass, thrive and grow beyond them. That was the beginning . . . the beginning of recovery, and the road to personal growth and well-being.

I never took "no" for an answer. Some days were exceptionally tough and even today some days are horrible. There were days where I thought that throwing it all away and just letting things slip back into chronic hospitalisations, unemployment and unhappy relationships would be far easier than fighting for a life. I kept on going. Once I found out all that I could about my disorder, I moved on from there. What were the resources available in the community, province and nationally? What did other consumers think about things? I became vocal, and in whatever strange way, I became respected for not being afraid to speak out. I developed a trust between others and myself so that even when I had a differing view on things, people knew that I was always open to considering other ideas.

Somewhere along this path, I became involved in the mental health "Consumer Movement." This was a healing process too. It provided me an avenue for sharing my experiences, my thoughts and my feelings with others, with the end goal of healing, but also with the hope implementing change within the mental health system. I never expected to be the driving force behind big changes, as for me, my happiness was easily added to with the knowledge of having helped just one person.

One thing has led to another. I started to take pride in who I was, how I looked, and what others thought of me. I also knew that even if others still couldn't accept me for who I was, then that was fine too.

Now, I am gainfully employed. I work full time providing some of the services to other consumers that I wish had been there when I was going through my tough times - a chance to explore the issues, learn who I really was, and make a difference. I am an advocate and lo and behold - someone has thought that this is valuable enough to actually pay me to do it.

The changes along the way have been dramatic. Twenty years ago I was hospitalised every three to four months, had no hope of having a fulfilling relationship with that significant someone, and my relationship with my family was non-existent. Now, I am happily married, working full-time, with strong family ties and involvement. Hospitalisation is, for the most part, ancient history.

I have learned when times are tough to sit back and ask myself the following question:

"Is it me? Is it my environment? Is it someone else's problem? Or is it my illness?"

This question, although not as dominant any more, runs like a continuous loop in my subconscious. Learning to identify what it is that is going on, and whether or not it is related to my mental illness, has allowed me to make great strides in my life. Through the support of family, a loving husband, an understanding doctor, a great work environment, friends who understand, and an all round good support network, I have succeeded in carrying on with a "normal" life. Medications have provided some assistance, but even with these, I have had to learn that they are not the answer to everything. I have had to learn to cope with things just as everyone else does, only in that, sometimes I must realize that I need a little extra help along the way.

Many times people ask me if I would change who I am and I always answer "No." I wouldn't wish my disorder on anyone, but I wouldn't change it. I am happy with who I am. I have many regrets along the way to where I am now, but if I were to go back and change just one little thing, then who would I be now? No, I am happy with me, and if that's good enough for me, then I hope it's good enough for everyone else.


{size:2)Note: all reviews will be rewarded