Thirty years ago, Fiona received a bipolar diagnosis, marking the culmination of four years grappling with untreated depression. Now retired, she shares her bipolar diagnosis story, detailing how she has adeptly self-managed her symptoms and sustained a fulfilling and lengthy career. Her journey offers valuable insights into living and thriving with bipolar disorder.
Following four years immersed in profound depression and the experience of two psychotic episodes, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. This revelation came at the cusp of what I envisioned as a promising career, at the age of 31.
The diagnosis was a dual experience – a shock to confront a serious mental illness, yet also a profound relief. The bewildering experiences of the preceding year and a half, encompassing a suicide attempt and messianic delusions, were now understood as manifestations of a recognized condition with established treatments. This bipolar diagnosis story became the starting point of a new chapter in my life.
In the ensuing years, I dedicated myself to understanding my bipolar diagnosis. I immersed myself in literature, from books to pamphlets, and subscribed to Pendulum, the journal published by the Manic Depressive Fellowship, now known as Bipolar UK. For several years, this exploration remained a private endeavor. Eventually, I gathered the courage to attend an MDF conference, a pivotal step in acknowledging my condition publicly.
This conference, held in a modest hall adjacent to Westminster Abbey, was a transformative experience. For the first time, I connected with others whose lives were also touched by bipolar disorder. I recall a couple deeply concerned about their 19-year-old daughter’s employment prospects, who found encouragement in learning about my work and relatively responsible position at a further education college. I also participated in several medical research projects. Even today, the precise causes of bipolar disorder remain elusive. My specific symptom presentation and triggers may differ from others’ experiences, highlighting the unique nature of each bipolar diagnosis story. For me, a combination of factors can contribute to episodes:
- Lack of sleep
- Poor diet – during years of depression, sustenance often consisted of just a sandwich a day.
- Suspicious thoughts directed towards friends, colleagues, or even strangers.
- Accelerated thinking patterns.
- An overwhelming sense of urgency regarding personal projects.
- Increased playfulness, punning, or excessive wordplay.
My self-management strategy includes vigilant monitoring and addressing of the first two triggers. I proactively adjust my routine by medicating on weekends to compensate for sleep deficits or by simply prioritizing a Saturday afternoon nap. Ensuring regular, nutritious meals is also a cornerstone of my self-care. The remaining symptoms tend to emerge more subtly. Recognizing them requires conscious self-reflection and seeking feedback from trusted individuals on how I am perceived. I recall once, during National Poetry Day, I cautiously inquired with my boss if reading a poem at the end of a team meeting might be considered inappropriate. Reassuringly, it was not.
Certain triggers, however, are beyond my control, notably the changing seasons. My episodes tend to coincide with the clock changes in March and October. During the weeks leading up to these transitions, I prioritize self-care. This involves ensuring ample rest, maintaining a balanced diet, connecting with friends, and moderating social engagements to avoid overstimulation. I also limit my exposure to news and current events, as significant global events can disrupt my psychological equilibrium. While I don’t consider myself exceptionally sensitive, both natural disasters, such as the Japanese tsunami of 2011, and human-caused tragedies, like the Gulf War and 9/11, have often preceded episodes. These seasonal and global factors form a unique aspect of my bipolar diagnosis story and symptom management.
Throughout my career in the public sector, I have largely benefited from supportive employers. One instance particularly stands out: my first psychotic episode occurred on my very first day at a new university job. The institution barely knew me, and technically, my absence might have been considered a breach of contract. Yet, without hesitation, I was granted a month’s sick leave. Upon my return, I was met with exceptional colleagues, offering support without intrusiveness. Within a year, I experienced a second episode and received my bipolar diagnosis. During my recovery and phased return to work, my boss personally collected me from the ward each morning, driving me to and from the university for several days a week until I was fully reintegrated back home and work. This level of understanding and support was truly remarkable and a testament to compassionate workplace practices in Bipolar Diagnosis Stories.
Another employer ensured I underwent an occupational health assessment upon my appointment. This proactive approach facilitated the agreement and implementation of personalized support measures from the outset. It is important to emphasize that these adjustments were far from burdensome:
- Flexibility in work commute times, allowing me to arrive or depart half an hour earlier or later.
- Gentle feedback if my communication style shifted – speaking more rapidly or presenting ideas that were less easily followed than usual.
- Understanding regarding out-of-hours emails, specifically messages sent in the early hours of the morning (e.g., 4 am).
My absences from work have been limited to periods of hospitalization and the brief recovery phases immediately following. Therefore, while my career trajectory might not have reached the dazzling heights of my initial aspirations, it has undoubtedly been successful and fulfilling, especially considering the context of my bipolar diagnosis story.
The initial fear and apprehension upon receiving my bipolar diagnosis have gradually transformed into a sense of satisfaction. I am content with a career “relatively well done,” especially given the circumstances. Reflecting on my bipolar diagnosis story, I recognize the resilience and adaptability I have developed.
During my second hospital admission, I participated in art therapy. In one session, I painted a watercolor depicting an approaching storm. This imagery represented how the newly acquired diagnosis felt – an overwhelming force that threatened to engulf me, as if I might drown within it. The therapist gently suggested that it might be the kind of storm that would pass without causing significant damage. At the time, I found this difficult to believe, yet his words resonated and stayed with me.
Looking back over my forty years of working life, my bipolar diagnosis has not been the disruptive force that others may experience. Instead, it has involved approximately half a dozen brief hospital admissions (only one involuntary) for medication adjustments, rest, and recovery. My bipolar diagnosis story is ultimately one of resilience, self-awareness, and the possibility of a successful and meaningful life.
