Growing up I could not understand why people could not keep up with me, or why I seemed more emotional than others, or why I had lots of problems in school.

There is a good side to being bipolar. I took many new jobs in my past and did them with fervor. I had two paper routes at twelve, and started working in a circus at sixteen. Then I got a job in the greyhound racing business working 24/7 year round. I would work for two years for the same kennel owner and then quit for about six months to go to a new race track, get another job and repeat my two-year pattern. I was always number one or two in the kennel standings in the greyhound business. I also ran a fast food business, and grossed more than twenty percent higher than in all the past years of business. I ran a bike shop and rental shop and nearly doubled the business from years past. I also ran a guest house in Key West. I took a job at the largest exotic bird breeding farm in the country, and learned how to take care of birds of all kinds. I learned how to grow and read cultures in the lab and could diagnose what is wrong with a bird and how to treat it quickly. The bird has a better chance of living the quicker you know the problem and how to fix it.

In keeping in line with my pattern of two years at the job and six-month down time; it was time for a new job. I took a job in a bowling alley and learned how to fix the machines in a very short time. As usual I would be in charge of the alley in the first year there. This is about the time when I started going to CMH. I stayed at the bowling alley for about three years before starting my down time. This was slowed by a change of meds. There was a new owner at the alley by now. I quit him and took a job at another bowling alley. I had to learn how to fix a new type of machine. I was made the boss in very short time, but soon it was down time. And time for another change in meds.

All this led to a failed suicide attempt. After a short stay in the hospital and a change of medications, all was okay again. At this time the meds are doing their job. I feel good, so on to another day with a better understanding of my illness.

I am going to group therapy and art lessons, pathways which all seem to help some with my anxiety around people.

I have taken on some new hobbies like painting, growing daylilies and photographing them. I am breeding new daylilies in the house to put out next year. I spend a lot of time in the winter tying flies to fish with in the spring, my spring-time hobby.

I can’t stress enough about how getting the right meds is of utmost importance. Without them I would be a total mess or even worse, I would be dead.

My name is Julie and I am bipolar. I have two faces, the side most people see, and the other I hide except from my family and special friends. I always want to hide that I am bipolar, because that mental illness “stigma” leaves a small part of me uncertain and ashamed.

I hope telling my story will help me feel proud of who I am.

I love life. I am blessed with a wonderful husband, Chris; daughter, Amanda; granddaughter, Mia; sister, Jean; two Golden Retrievers, Kimi and Kallie; and kitten Kiefer. My family has always been there for me.

I am very creative. I quilt, play alto recorder, draw, and I am a dancer and choreographer. I am a former professor of modern dance at Kent State University and Artist-in-Education for children. I love expression and helping individuals to find their own voice through movement. When we moved to Cadillac, Michigan, I went back to school for employment as a Physical Therapist Assistant. I have worked really hard to stay stable and lead a “normal life.” I know I should be proud of myself, but I still wonder how can I be bipolar?

The first time I became sick I was 30 years old. I had no idea what was happening. I was on a wild roller coaster of ups and downs. Afterwards I found everything is typical of someone with bipolar illness, but that feeling of “flying” out of control is so frightening. Of course, I was hospitalized. Bipolar illness was genetic in my father’s family. Later I found that the doctors thought I was so ill I might never go home again. Fortunately, my family wouldn’t stand for that and everyone worked hard to help me return to reality.

I was on the long road to recovery – like a mirror had shattered and each little piece slowly put back into place. Who was that person in the mirror? I can remember feeling like a newborn learning about life, how to be with my family, and how to walk and dance again. My family was always there to help and dancing made me stronger and helped free my emotional anger at this illness. I challenged myself to stay healthy and fulfill my dreams of continuing my career and family. Gradually I was able to work more hours and we adopted our daughter when she was 11 years old. She was quite a handful but we made it!

I won’t say there hasn’t been tears, frustrations or fear of “flying” again. Life still has its ups and downs, especially as key people in my life have passed away, such as my mom. Along with my husband and sister, she was a strong influence on my life. Recently, my medications, especially lithium, have caused weight gain and affected my kidneys and I sleep a lot – frustrating complications.

Now the mirror image that was shattered is much clearer and the pieces are in place. God always seems to send angels along the way to help keep me on track when life might trigger another bipolar episode. I hope a time will come when I won’t need two faces. I am determined to stay well. For now, I feel very thankful for another quilt to be quilted, another dance to be created, a job that helps others, and, most of all, for my family and friends. I am very blessed.

Life for me has not been easy. Growing up I experienced a great deal of abuse. My mother and stepfather had bad anger and drinking issues and regularly beat me for things I didn’t do. I found pleasure in seclusion. Even though it was lonely, it was also safe from the school kids being mean, a pastor who molested me during an overnight youth group activity, and my mother who I thought hated me. I had no self-worth. I was a runaway very early in life, from about kindergarten on.

At 15 I ran away for the last time. I was placed into my father’s house. He was listed on my birth certificate as my father but I had never heard of him and neither of us believed he was my father. He was, however, my bull’s eye for bitterness. At 17 I was with less than desirable friends and we got into a lot of trouble. I was kicked out of school on many occasions and I drank a lot. I broke into a beer distributorship warehouse and was arrested. This ended my relationship with my birth certificate father. I was kicked out.

I was still on a fast track to hell when my grandmother took me in. I had no place to go, but my grandmother never let me down. I think she thought of me as her own son. One of my sisters and I lived there together and life became one big party after another. I was caught selling drugs in school, which ruined any chance of graduating from my home school or any of the privileges of the higher classes, such as dances, prom, sports or anything else. I was told I was going to prison unless I helped the police. I set up my sister’s boyfriend, my cousin, a childhood friend, and a motorcycle gang. I was scared and hurting for what I did. I hid for a long time with different clothes and hair. I knew how bad my sister felt when I betrayed her trust, and I lied in court to help everyone get out of jail. Everyone was let loose but the police were mad at me, everyone hated me and many wanted to kill me. I tried suicide by overdose and then by auto accident but neither worked.

I decided it would be best to leave Michigan, so I moved to Florida. I stayed with a friend and worked, but my drinking and behavior was self destroying. I lost my job due to all my absences and then my place of residence as well. I was on the street with no job, and was hungry, cold, sleepy, and scared. I prostituted myself to anyone with money. I was battered and raped and I hated and was sickened by what I was doing. A man offered to let me stay at his home as long as I did what he said. I hated the men there that were taking advantage of my youth and my setbacks. One night, I had enough and attacked three men with a chair leg. The police showed up and beat me down with their clubs. After two months fighting charges I was given an offer to leave the county and never come back. I spent a few months on a shrimp boat, then worked in a shipyard where I could live in the yard off the streets. I got so drunk and high on pills that I almost died several times and was fired and kicked off the property.

I went home to Michigan hoping all was forgotten, but it wasn’t. I had my sister and her boyfriend to deal with. I fought with them and ended up hospitalized. I tried suicide again and this time was taken to Kalamazoo State Hospital where I stayed for 60 days. I had a few more episodes but after this I started Teen Challenge and progressed slowly. I graduated and returned to my hometown where it all went bad again. My sister, her boyfriend and I all became involved in break-ins and drugs. During one of the break-ins, my sister’s boyfriend was stabbed, leaving a one-year-old daughter. I went to prison. After that, my sister was very bitter. Even though I had tried to save her boyfriend, I failed. He died and I was alive, so my sister blamed me and raised their daughter to hate me.

I met my wife in 1997. She was just another girl, but she got pregnant. We cared about each other but we never truly loved each other and that brought problems. My drinking, my marijuana, and my inner turmoil all became turmoil for my wife. She also had deep issues, including a mood disorder, depression, and anxiety. There was fighting all the time, drinking, smoking pot, and a lot of mental issues between both of us. Our second child was born but now we are no longer together.

My children are my life. My daughter is 9 and my son is 5. I also have three older stepsons who I raised with her and they are very close to me. Right now they are all in state custody. I have my disorders and my wife has hers, but the children love me and they are also happy where they are and that is all that matters to me.

All that is in the past. I am very happy now. I have reconciled with my father and I also speak to my mother and love her deeply. We all just did some growing up, but mainly I did. I am disabled with schizoid affective, bi-polar, post-traumatic stress disorder, and mood disorders. Along with this I still suffer from my past substance and alcohol addictions. I have not drunk in eight years or smoked marijuana in four years. There are no other drugs in my life except my prescribed meds that I have to take. I belong to a very nice church in Cadillac, and I have my own place now, after my parents helped me to nurture me back to a stable mental health. Most of all I belong to a beautiful organization called Club Cadillac. The members and the staff run this club together and we as members learn to be more efficient. At this time I am enrolled in Baker College and I am taking the baby steps I need to to be a caring, loving, productive man. Through God we can do all things!

I care about young teenagers being misled, young adults who has no one to count on, and I care about what others do with their lives.