Photo by Sydney Sims on Unsplash

I sit here writing this in the middle of a manic or hypomanic episode.

For most people, this isn’t a norm and, to be honest for most Latinos, mental health isn’t discussed or acknowledged as a legitimate illness.

Hell, most of the world struggled with concepts of mental health and for years people mainly women were put into psychiatric wards with the pretense that they were “crazy” and therefore not fit to live amongst the rest of society.

This damages people like me who struggle to accept their diagnosis. I was diagnosed with Bipolar disorder officially in late 2020 or early 2021, the timeline is fuzzy because, for most of it, I was manic and hospitalized.

I will provide more details on my experience at those institutions later, but I wanted to clarify my intentions.

I know that I can’t sit here and consider myself a credible person because of my illness but now that I’ve just shitted all over myself let me reassure you by telling you why reading this may be valuable to you if you are someone who has bipolar disorder, a minority struggling with the disorder, or just someone curious about a reality outside your own.

I did the work.

I made it out on the other side and somehow I am a functioning member of society so let me flex about it quickly because I don’t think I, like many people my age, allow myself to do that.