- I was diagnosed with
bipolar disorder at age 20, and I worried I'd never be a parent. - I have thrived for decades with medication and therapy.
When I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder at age 20, I drowned in crushing fears about my future. Chief among them was the fear of never becoming a parent.
My psychiatrist explained that bipolar disorder was likely caused by a combination of biological and environmental factors but that the condition should not prevent me from living a full life, including becoming a parent, if I stayed in treatment.
Still, the possibility of passing bipolar disorder down to the next generation concerned me. Until I could do right by my child, I would not consider parenthood.
At 31, I was gainfully employed and a happily married new homeowner. I had been thriving with medication and therapy for a decade. My husband and I were ready to provide a child with a stable, loving home.
When my insurance required me to find a new psychiatrist, I sought someone experienced in treating patients with bipolar disorder during pregnancy. Many psychiatrists neglected to return my calls. Two I met did nothing to hide their disdain. One advised, "Maybe you should wait four years or more. Maybe then you'll change my mind." Though I was doing everything right, she could not see past my mentally-ill label.
Eventually I found a team of providers to support me. Our child is now 8 years old and as bright and hilarious as can be. We talk about mental
For decades my psychiatrist has categorized my bipolar condition as "in remission," but our society does not accept that recovery is possible for severe mental-health conditions. Unlike people with physical conditions such as cancer, we are forever branded as lost causes.
No matter what I write and how I present myself, there will be people who believe I must be a horrible parent causing havoc behind closed doors based on my diagnosis alone. This is the stigma that I fight daily.
The reality is that
I have to remind people of my diagnosis
Almost everyone I know seems to have been affected by a loved one living with bipolar disorder, whether or not it was formally diagnosed. Most are not shy to blame the condition.
This often comes up in awkward ways — for example, when an unsuspecting acquaintance starts sharing about an abusive ex with bipolar disorder. I feel obligated to share that I, too, live with bipolar disorder and explain that it is very treatable.
Living with bipolar disorder doesn't have to mean leaving a trail of pain, suffering, and destruction. So many others are living well with my condition but are forced into hiding because of stigma and discrimination.
I, too, hid my bipolar condition for two decades before becoming a mental-health advocate.
I can't advocate for myself or anyone if I don't first admit my own struggles — so I started telling my story to normalize the narrative in which people thrive while living with bipolar disorder. I want to fight for a stigma-free future for the next generations.
In the meantime, despite what others may be projecting onto me, all I can do is be the best mom, partner, and person possible. It's taken time to see it for myself, but my best is more than enough.