Committed to the Psych Ward
I promised myself I’d never write about my time in the psych ward. Today, I’m breaking that promise.
Why had I made the solemn vow, years ago?
Because the stigma of mental illness is still very real. I hold a middle-management job with a reputable company. If they find out I was locked away involuntarily, even for a short stay…would they look at me differently? When they ran a SWOT analysis of me as a candidate for the next promotion, would “ability to handle pressure” be added under “Weakness?” Even thinly veiled, would they all know what they really meant by that?
But I’m ruminating too much. Let me get back on track.
I’ve always worried I’d be judged for my mental illness. But now, I’m starting to see that telling my story is my responsibility. Now that I’m ready, I owe it to those who struggle. Because it’s possible that when I, a successful person by the world’s meaning of the word, show that I’ve been hospitalized for my Bipolar 1…maybe that helps to normalize mental illness in society. It’s not some nebulous risque concept, but an actual condition that can be managed skillfully.
And so, I’ll share my experiences. Not all at once. Bit by bit. As I get comfortable.
All the names have been changed. The location won’t be stated, because it’s irrelevant. This could…
