I still didn’t, really, last month when I finally came out.
But it was Bell Let’s Talk Day, and I decided to stop waiting for when I felt
rested, or clear-headed, or articulate enough and just do it. Reading the influx of posts from others
dealing with mental health issues gave me the push I needed to finally just do
it and not wait for the right time.
I’m glad I did. I’ve had so many people approach me since
then – from my personal and professional worlds – to comment on my post. It has opened up doors of communication;
renewed old friendships; introduced new ones.
And just as I was becoming a bit used to being a face of
depression, things changed.
I had an appointment on Friday with a psychiatrist for an
assessment. Previous diagnosis and
treatment had been at the hands of multiple GPs and psychologists; this was my
first time meeting with a psychiatrist. After one and a half hours of
questions, seemingly random to me, he delivered his diagnosis: bipolar II.
I can’t say I’m surprised. I’d begun to suspect as much over
the past year or two, as my depression treatment lifted me up enough to be more
and more functional, to read and learn more about mental illness, to better
assess my being, to better track my moods and symptoms … The
more I tracked, the more a pattern began to emerge. Once the depression became a bit more
manageable, I began to see the other monsters lurking in the shadows.
And that helps.
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