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Life Lessons Series: It’s not what happens to you, but how you react to it that matters. – Epictetus (Part 2) |
Life Lesson #11 (Continued...)
Climbing the Mountain of Mental Health and Disillusionment
That quote from Epictetus has followed me through every chapter of my journey. But at this point, I wasn’t reacting with resilience. I was collapsing.
After I was laid off during the pandemic, I spiraled into a deep depression—then rapidly into chaos. The mountain felt insurmountable. I spent weeks in bed, gripped by anxiety, sleeplessness, and an overwhelming sense of dread. Without routine, structure, or accountability, my emotional stability unraveled. Sleep deprivation, isolation, and mismanaged medication triggered hypomania. And I lost myself.
I wasn’t me anymore. I had become someone unrecognizable—impulsive, disconnected, reckless. I had forgotten who I was beneath the storm.
A Portrait of Hypomania: Substance Use, Relationships, and Emotional Instability
During this period, my responses to stress were destructive:
- I used substances daily, disregarding my knowledge of their dangers for people living with bipolar disorder. By 2023, I was diagnosed with a co-occurring Substance Use Disorder.
- I entered a toxic relationship with a man I met online. Within two weeks, he moved into my apartment and stayed rent-free for two months. He was emotionally, physically, and financially abusive. When he left, I spiraled into binge eating and purging, overwhelmed by shame, self-loathing, and nonexistent self-worth.
- In 2021, desperate for purpose, I moved in with my parents and secured what I believed was my dream job as a Peer Support Specialist. But my productivity was often hypomania in disguise—fast-talking, high-energy, relentless drive. Beneath it all, burnout, racing thoughts, insomnia, and relentless self-doubt pushed me to the edge.
By Fall 2022, I was overwhelmed by hopelessness and attempted to take my own life. That moment scared me enough to seek psychiatric care.
The Fallout: Hospitalizations, Homelessness, and Hitting Rock Bottom
Between 2022 and 2024, I was hospitalized nine times—often after wellness checks deemed me a danger to myself. I was placed in the Psychiatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU) and restrained under outdated and traumatizing mental health protocols.
Upon release, I faced housing insecurity—living out of my car, in Airbnbs, and eventually a shelter. I was homeless, unmedicated, self-medicating, and emotionally unstable. I became suicidal, psychotic, and deeply delusional.
I alienated everyone—family, friends, coworkers. Even strangers could sense that I was unraveling. I wasn’t just lost in the world—I had lost myself.
Facing the Fear: Accepting Bipolar Disorder and Finding Stability
Eventually, I made a choice—not to fix everything, but to embrace the chaos and ask: Could I survive this? Could I face the pain, grief, trauma, and fear that I had spent years trying to escape? Could I stop running from my bipolar diagnosis and finally stand still long enough to heal?
In the quiet of isolation, I found clarity:
“It’s not what happens to you, but how you react to it that matters.”
I didn’t need to climb the mountain inside me—I needed to walk patiently around it. I started to accept that life would always include challenges, relapses, growth, and emotional extremes. But how I chose to react—how I structured my healing—was entirely up to me.
Final Thoughts: Reclaiming Myself: Self-Awareness, Healing, and Self-Worth
Life hadn’t just happened to me—I had been actively engaging in it, even if I wasn’t always aware. I had been reacting without reflection, living without structure. But over the last two years, I’ve cultivated the self-awareness to understand how my past shaped my present—and how my present decisions shape my future.
I’ve let go of fear. I’ve said goodbye to self-pity and self-loathing. And I’ve reclaimed my self-worth.
This is my story, but it’s also a reflection of something more universal: for those of us living with Bipolar disorder or navigating mental health challenges, routine, support, healing, and self-acceptance are not just tools—they are lifelines.
Thank you, Epictetus, for the wisdom. I now understand:
“It’s not what happens to you, but how you react to it that matters.”