‘For many years, I assumed I would never have a family, a career or a day free of thoughts of violence and suicide. But these things are possible’
that those things didn’t exist in 2007 — for example, the groundbreaking memoir The Center
Cannot Hold by schizophrenic academic Elyn Saks came out the following year — but the accessibility to such things was so vastly different. I didn’t have my own computer. To use the internet I had to go to the library in college or an internet cafe.
The internet itself was different back then — there simply wasn’t as much on it! My relationship to the internet was different then too. I’m not one of those enterprising millennials who grew up in chatrooms where perhaps niche mental illnesses were being discussed. I remained quite an analog person for many years, not succumbing to a smartphone or social media until my 30s.
When I first became ill, I tried to research what was happening to me, desperate for evidence that I could survive this thing. Unfortunately, time and again I came up with either nothing or else extremely negative stories. This week it is Bipolar Awareness Week and I am very grateful that I exist in a time when such a week exists. It’s also my birthday this week and every time I celebrate my birthday I can’t help but remember the date I had planned to die in November of 2007. Each year I gain in age is a miracle to me because there is a different version of my life where I didn’t make it. We all have these sliding doors moments, though I think mine might be particularly stark.
I sat down to write about this awareness week and wondered what I wanted to make people aware of about bipolar. With these initiatives there’s a focus on telling non-sufferers what an illness is like. But this year, I really want to talk to my fellow mads. I wanted to make other people at the start of their journey aware of the boundless potential your life still contains.
Even after I didn’t kill myself, for many years I still assumed that there would be things I wouldn’t be able to do in life. Things that sick people like me weren’t capable of, like having a family or a challenging career. Or on a much smaller scale but equally important, simply having a day free from frightening thoughts of violence and suicide. But these things are possible. I wish I could go back in time and tell myself this. Tell myself that you can survive. That experiences need not be closed off to you because of your illness but that you have to stick around to find out.
Of course the thing with mental illness is that you’re never really done with having it. I still don’t know if my illness will end in suicide. Research suggests up to 20pc of people with bipolar die by suicide so it’s an outside possibility. And once you have experienced suicidal ideation, you live with the troubling knowledge that your brain is capable of going there and you know the formidable grip of suicidal conviction, how it dissolves all reason and turns your mind against you. Talking about suicidality and mental illness in general is one step we can take to safeguard against this, so here I am talking about it to keep myself safe as much as anyone else. l
For help, free phone Samaritans on 116 123 or Pieta on 1800 247 247, or text HELP to 51444