Kieran's Diagnosis Story

I will keep this short, informal,

My Bipolar symptoms first emerged at 14, I was formerly diagnosed at 19, I only accepted the diagnosis at 25, and now, aged 26, I have finally decided to talk publicly about it.

I want this wee blurb to be hopeful rather than dark, so I have skipped over many details.

We first realised that something had seriously gone wrong was when I was hospitalised at fourteen having ‘lost count‘ of the number of pills that I had downed. 

I was a lucky boy, and managed to leave hospital after a period of medical treatment with few lasting long-term health problems.

During my teenage years, I had multiple manic and deppressive episodes, and at 18, after a 9 month wait in which my condition continued to worsen, I finally received psychiatric support.

During the highs, I had launched a number of business ventures, I took a day off school, hid behind a billionaire’s car, pitched my business idea – say what you want about mania, but it has it’s benefits.

What goes up, must come down. I crashed, and was admitted to a psychiatric hospital for the first time. I was treated with a number of medications until the correct combination was found.

Over the past 12 years, I have been treated with almost every pill under the sun: lamotrigine, lithium, melatonin, quetiapine, aripiprazole, mirtazapine, sertraline, zolpidem, zopiclone, diazepam, promethazine, and a couple of others. At my worst, I was added to an ECT waiting list but thankfully the episode subsided beforehand. 

Some studies suggest that as many as 50%+ of those living with Bipolar will attempt suicide; 10-20% will tragically die by suicide.

Yet, amidst these sobering statistics, there is hope. With increased awareness, access to mental health resources, and unwavering support from loved ones and the community,Bipolar Scotland,  individuals living with bipolar disorder can find hope, healing, and a renewed sense of purpose. By shedding light on these challenging issues and fostering open dialogue, we can work together to break the cycle of addiction and prevent the tragedy of suicide among those living with bipolar.

Over the past 12 years, I’ve been on a rollercoaster of treatments, experimenting with a myriad of medications in pursuit of stability. Among them were not only pharmaceutical prescriptions but also the ill-fated self-prescribed remedies of a desperate mind.

I honestly don’t feel sorry for myself, and the moment you loathe in self-pity is the moment you admit defeat. 

Bipolar disorder has taken me to the brink, challenging me in ways I never imagined. Yet, amidst the chaos, I’ve found strength and resilience. Through the support of friends, both old and new, and the power of self-reflection, I’ve come to embrace my journey with bipolar as a testament to my ability to overcome adversity.

I have been fortunate to have friends from all walks of life: polytheists and monotheists; Buddhists, Hindhus, Jews, Christians and Muslims. Not to be too philisophical, but when asking a Muslim friend about the Islamic idea of predestiny, I argued that free will is impossible if everything is determined by fate.

In reponse, I was told that it was possible to be a ‘free man of fate’. 

In being a man of fate, I recognise that something outwith our control, such as Bipolar, can come along. But by being free, we realise that life is still open to choices. It is the choices we make – despite our diagnoses – that will be our legacies. 

Whilst I used to think of Bipolar as a weakness, I now see it as a strength. 

Good luck everyone! It does get better.