“Relief” 7.23.21

In my childhood, I was quiet, shy, and observant; I was a wall flower swaying in the wind. I was an angry child when something or someone got in my way. I was a weepy twelve-year-old, as I was experiencing the early signs of Depression, without knowing his name.

When I was sixteen years old, my life was forever changed. I was diagnosed with Bipolar I Disorder, and was so relieved that this illness had a name and a treatment plan. To this day, it is still the greatest sense of relief I have ever experienced.

If you have been reading my blog entries and or my books, you know this story. If you haven’t, feel free to catch up. In my life, I repeat stories so often because I cannot remember who I told what and when. So I tell recycled tales. I don’t want to tell that story today.

I want the world to know that I am no longer hiding and it has been a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. I was expecting to feel vulnerable and fragile. I realized that owning my truth–no matter who knows about it, who praises me, or who thinks I am crazy–has brought me to a place of strength and opened my mouth to spout the words too many people are afraid to confront. Yes, I have mood swings. Yes, sometimes I see things and hear things others don’t. Yes, I have delusions.

Ask me anything and I will speak to you about the topics that make society feel uncomfortable. I welcome discomfort, because it leads others away from the stigma and shows the outside world that mental illness is real and needs to be discussed. I cannot pretend that I know everything about mental illness, but I have experienced crippling trauma and risen from the grave to tell my story to the world.

I have experienced great success if only one person is touched by my words. I am in pursuit of change and am right on its heels.

—SJB