I once called 911 asking for help. I'm proud of Amanda Bynes for doing the same.

• Earlier this week, Amanda Bynes made headlines for asking for help during a psychotic episode.
• Bynes and I have the same birth year and both have mental illness.

In the '90s, we couldn't get enough of Amanda Bynes in her happy and perky character on "All That." I know I couldn't.

Bynes has been in the headlines over the past 24 hours after wandering around Los Angeles' streets alone during a psychotic episode, and one fact stands out for me. After flagging down his car, she told a stranger that she needed help. From where I'm standing, she's a hero — a much-needed ray of hope in dark times.

Bynes and I share a birth year, and we have mental illness in common as well. In the lead-up to my bipolar diagnosis, I hit rock bottom. While I've never wandered the streets naked, I've engaged in risky behavior, hurt people I love, and made mistakes that cost me my reputation, money, and a lot of remorse.

I had a manic episode

In early 2011, I experienced an intense psychotic episode, though I didn't know that's what it was. I was on top of the world and having the time of my life. I barely slept because I didn't need sleep; I had an endless supply of energy. I maxed out credit cards buying things, but most of my purchases sat unopened, with many duplicate items. I had ridiculous, unrealistic plans, and no one could tell me anything. I'm a textbook introvert, so this point in my life should have been a red flag.

After weeks of recklessness, depression hit. I slept in excess, blew off my friends, ignored phone calls, called in sick to work, and struggled to complete basic tasks like showering or cleaning. Then, finally, my once bright world crashed around me, replaced with darkness I couldn't see through.

The aftermath of mania hit me then — debt, bill collectors, embarrassing texts I didn't remember sending, too much "junk" accumulated in my home, lingering head and stomach pains from excessive drinking, and fatigue from a lack of sleep. I was suffocating in a dumpster fire that I had created.

I cut myself, but I didn't want to die

Overbearing depression led to a severe self-inflicted forearm wound. I didn't want to die; I just wanted a distraction from my inescapable mental anguish. My life had spiraled out of control, but I had no idea why or how to fix it. After the moment of weakness when I took a knife to my arm, the blood from multiple severed arteries was a wake-up call. I dialed 911 and asked for help.

Surrounded by paramedics tending to my arm and police interrogating me, I informed them that I wanted to know what was wrong with me — why I would do this to myself. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder after a voluntary commitment to a hospital's psychiatric ward, where I stayed for two weeks for observation and treatment. Then, I voluntarily attended an intensive two-week outpatient program where I learned coping techniques, received counseling, and waited for my medications to take effect.

During a '96 "All That" episode, Bynes' first appearance, the show's producer Kevin Kopelow appears on-screen as Kevin the stage manager and tells the cast, "We can all learn a thing or two from Amanda, that's what I say." Fans aren't laughing at her bold-faced comedic presence on TV anymore. Instead, we're wondering where things went wrong.

But, to me, Bynes is heroic and brave. Sure, she's had a string of run-ins with the law and mental-health issues over the past decade. Still, she asked for help, from a stranger, nonetheless. As someone who's done it before, I will argue it's one of the hardest things to do, thanks partly to the stigma around mental illness.

So I agree with Kopelow: We can learn from Bynes and others who dare to ask for help.