My mind is slow. I am recovering from one of the most destructive depressive episodes of my life, and I can’t think like a neurotypical person. So I am writing while not knowing exactly what I am going to write. But, as I said in my post for the International Bipolar Foundation campaign “#MyBipolarFuelsMyPassion4” (check it out!), my Bipolar fuels my passion for writing. And I couldn’t just stay silent on a day like this.
My 2016 article was a celebration of people diagnosed with Bipolar— the title was “Here’s To Us”. I hadn’t founded this blog yet, so I don’t think any of you read it.
Today, I want to celebrate the professionals. The caregivers. The apps. All the people, the services, the facilities whom have got our backs.
I want to celebrate my own psychiatrists, whom I owe my sanity to, for taking care of me — and when I say care I refer to its deepest, profound meaning — during my recent admission.
I want to celebrate Mrs C.Z., who was my psychologist back when I was still undiagnosed, for saving my life.
I want to celebrate my partner, the brightest side of me, for they are the most loving caregiver despite having to fight their own demons in the meantime.
I want to celebrate my parents, who struggled to understand at first and still there they are, standing by my side despite all we went through because of my illness.
I want to celebrate the developers of Medisafe, the app that constantly reminds me to take my meds as prescribed. I want to celebrate each and every nurse and healthcare worker of the ward where I was inpatient, for choosing to work in a psych ward.
You all are part of what World Bipolar Day aims at: fighting the stigma around mental illness. And so thank you, you beautiful, beautiful people. And happy 30th March.