For our July Notepad, we share part two of Celine Ruscher’s journey of living with bipolar disorder—a personal story that reveals the daily struggles of managing symptoms and confronting stigma.
My mental health oscillated a lot during the pandemic. I noticed that low moods were more frequent and more intense. While everyone was suffering from being locked down in France, withdrawing was what I needed. I found a certain peace and enjoyment in being with my husband, far from work and everyone else. Again, low periods of productivity were followed by intense work. This work pattern was becoming painful. I was continuously furious with my collaborators. I was sure that France was the problem. We needed to move back to Vancouver.
In 2022, I had been back in Vancouver for a couple of months when I experienced a severe crisis triggered by traumatic memories. The same psychologist, who diagnosed depression, mentioned for the first time the possibility of bipolar disorder. I could not stop my brain. I was barely eating and sleeping, but I was still against medical help. I was still sure that I could get through this alone with my psychologist. We did it in the past, so why not now? We tried, but my state worsened. Her words, “We need more help now,” will always stick with me. She took the time to explain to me why I needed that help, with reduced intensity of symptoms, more work can be done in therapy. It was teamwork. I had to do my part of the job.
Asking for help from a physician was the most challenging part, mainly because there may be a tendency not to listen to patients or clinical psychologists. Bipolar disorder was not discussed, and I took my first antidepressant. I was okay with the idea of the antidepressant, as it was not for the long term, and combined with therapy, it can even be faster.
Asking for help from doctors (family physicians or psychiatrists) is always a challenge. Will they listen to me? Will they take my distress seriously? I present as a functional person. Perhaps they won’t realize that I’m struggling in reality.
Asking for help when there are some cultural or educational beliefs is even harder. Sometimes it’s our own identity which is challenged. Am I an anxious or a curious person? Should I mention what I read during the psychiatric appointment to have a serious discussion, or should I pretend to know nothing? Knowing that we have only 30 minutes, how can I discuss all the questions I have? These are concrete questions in my situation. Sometimes I fear asking. Sometimes I fear the reaction on the other side. There is no clear answer to overcome the barriers in place when it comes to asking for help or reporting how we are going as people living with invisible illnesses. I chose to communicate and build relationships with everyone involved in my recovery journey.
Stigma is there. I still believe my willpower could do more and should do more. It won’t disappear, but I feel empowered in identifying it. I am taking 4-5 medications daily and have accepted that they are very likely to be lifelong companions. Help comes in various formats. For me, help has been about listening to the right person at the right moment.
In order to offer you additional support, we would like to hear back from you. We’re offering a Q & A section for caregivers. If you have specific questions or inquiries about living with mental illness, please send them to support@pathwayssmi.org and we will do our best to address them in a future Notepad newsletter.