Lifestyle 06 June 2018
For this author, a diagnosis of bipolar disorder at once clarified and disorganized her life. Below she writes of the struggles and intricacies of dealing with her diagnosis, and how she emerged from the desolation...
For as long as I can remember, thoughts while alone were a strange phenomenon to me. As a youngster, I was barely ever alone. I loved being with my older sister. I studied and copied her every move, as most younger siblings do. I loved and appreciated my time with my family. I always wanted to be with them as their affection, attention and company felt good to me.
But then, there was the small alone time I had as a child. My sister was my play-date on a daily basis, and my cousins of similar age as well. I was certainly well-liked by my peers and had wonderful times playing sports and ordinary child-like fantasy games. Alone time was not routine, but on the rare occasions I was alone, I’m knew I did not like it.
" I was alone in this. All I had in my alone time was to reflect how alone I was in my depression."
I distinctly and vividly remember the ants. Every Sunday, my family was up very early for mass. My mother would wake me up and I would begrudgingly walk to the bathroom. Our duplex in Elizabeth, New Jersey was charming in its own right, but there were adorable little ants that lived in the cracks of our bathroom floor. I remember always thinking about their little ant lives, who ran everything and made the rules? Are they happy little ants? Are we cool now since they watch me pee sometimes? Much like the Tootsie Pop slogan, the world will never know.
Our church was huge, had a concert-like appeal, red carpet and tacky wine fabric covered chairs.
The music was far too loud for my young, sensitive ears. My sister and I played hangman a lot. Similarly with the ants in my childhood bathroom my mind wondered in that church too- why was a lady speaking “in tongues?", and why did some people just fall asleep at the altar when Pastor touched them? However, I never dared to ask. I just thought about it on my alone time.
As I started to grow and mature I was still very curious. Alone time was a good enough time to reflect on many things, but my thought patterns seemingly were a bit different. My thoughts were much darker, and the questions were no longer about curious existentialism in ants. My thoughts became more distraught, like why am I alive if I am suffering so much? I was a very happy person when surrounded by friends or family. Which is why I wanted to constantly be surrounded by people. I smiled more, I was a part of a team, I was eating and laughing regularly and got exercise like every other kid my age.
I know it began earlier, but the memory that stands out the most is when I woke up one morning and I just couldn’t do it that day. ‘It’ meaning being a sixth grader. I wasn’t sure why- but I lied to my mother and said I felt sick. I named every symptom in the book. So I stayed home that day. And I laid in bed pretty much all day, feeling this feeling I could not explain. I just know it wasn’t sadness anymore. It was my body rejecting me.
"Women are about 40% more likely than men to develop depression. They're twice as likely to develop PTSD, with about 10% of women developing the condition after a traumatic event, compared to just 4% of men."
It was telling me that I could not do this any longer. This meaning life. I started to hate this alone time, as it did not feel good. But pretending to not feel this way in public was a bigger hurdle to overcome. This is when I discovered what facades and hiding behind them were. I did it often and I did it well, but I could not hide my truth when I was alone. My thoughts and feelings of depression would overcome and take over me much like red ants when you step on their property.
This went on for years. Along with my fear of my depression being discovered. I hid in my depression closet for so long, but you would never know it. I attributed my mood swings and bouts of depression to being a teenager at times. I was a popular teen, attractive, well dressed, confidently changed my hair style twice a year, and was very social amongst my peers. In middle school, I was Class President and involved in many groups and organizations. That followed me in high school as well, I was in student government, nominated for homecoming queen, won Prom Princess and Prom Queen, and won many superlatives in the year book. I participated in school plays, musicals, talent shows, and always had genuinely great experiences. I truly loved High School and was very interested in making friends with everyone, not just the well known popular students in all grades.
But again, when I was alone, my thoughts were all around self depreciation and came from such a deep place of true depression. I attempted suicide in 9th grade after lying to my mother yet again. It was all too much for me and I did not feel as I was worthy of this life. Describing depression is truly one of the hardest things for me, because you cannot see it. Its so difficult to put into words how it feels to experience true joy, the anthesis is even more difficult. After failing that attempt, I decided I would continue to try my best. I honestly did not know anyone who felt like me, there were no assemblies in school that informed us about depression or mental illness. There were no books in the library. I was alone in this. All I had in my alone time was to reflect how alone I was in my depression. That was the worst part, feeling completely alone while surrounded by people who love you. How was that even possible in my life? I had it all.
"Women are about 40% more likely than men to develop depression. They're twice as likely to develop PTSD, with about 10% of women developing the condition after a traumatic event, compared to just 4% of men."
I lost interest in finding a University for me by Senior year of high school. I knew we couldn’t afford a theatre conservatory or university, and just like that, I gave up. So I decided to go to the closest university by our house which was Kean University. My depression went on a whole new level there. There were layers, colors, and songs of desperation I never thought were possible to hear feel and see while attending this university. I gave up to the point where I wouldn’t shower for days and would sleep in my car instead of going to class. I was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. But again, I hid it well. I wasn’t living, I was surviving.
My manic episode began at age 19 when I decided I had enough and needed to take a semester off. A manic episode is a mood state characterized by period of at least one week where an elevated, expansive, or unusually irritable mood exists. A person experiencing a manic episode is usually engaged in significant goal-directed activity beyond their normal activities. My thoughts were so grandiose I went from thinking I would be on Oprah, to I AM Oprah. Mania is the strangest thing because while you are manic it is the most exhilarating feeling in the world. I wrote extensively long and wordy poems and performed them at open mic. People were in awe of them, and my highs just kept getting more and more euphoric.
Fast forward to Newark Beth Israel Hospital, 2011, about 2 months later when my episode finally reached psychosis. I was diagnosed with Bipolar 1 disorder. I went home, did not shower or speak for three days. I was submerged into such a bad depression, worse than ever before. There was so much I remembered but there was no way I could have done those things. And what's worse, people were telling me things I said or did that I wasn’t aware I had done. It was terrifying and I couldn’t believe this was my current state. I knew I was never to pick up a pencil to paper and my days as an actor were over.
I did not write for seven years. I did not share my story or my illness to anyone who did not see me when I was manic. My illness was my constant elephant in the room, and it consumed me and became such a huge part of my identity. I let it become my crutch and I let it speak for me before I could utter a word. I gave my illness a worst stigma than society bestowed upon those who suffer from mental illness.
All the while, I knew that somehow there had to be some reason for me being on this planet. I didn’t know what it was, but I always felt like there had to be someone else, someone my age who had suffered and went through mania, the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, someone to relate to. Then something happened.
One day I was searching through quotes on Google just for inspiration to make it through the day. I stumbled upon a quote that literally saved my life: “You were assigned this mountain to show others it can be moved.” I started sobbing the most effortless and liberating tears. It was in that moment where I realized what my purpose was. I knew that the only way to find the people like me, was to write about the people like me. I had to come out of my bipolar closet. But, I had to save my life before changing anyone else’s life.
Social media is the best platform we have today. I decided to use Instagram, Facebook, and Youtube to come out as a person living with mental illness through my poetry.
One in three Americans struggles with a mental illness, but the rate is much higher in women. Women are about 40% more likely than men to develop depression. They're twice as likely to develop PTSD, with about 10% of women developing the condition after a traumatic event, compared to just 4% of men. Yet most people do not know this. So many people affected (women, men, teens, families) that need to be educated.
Mental illness does not discriminate against age, gender, or race. My journey is never-ending for me. I hope my story and way of coping and how I still live a fulfilling life will inspire many girls and women and I can be the person that I so desperately wished for back in middle school. It is so incredible to say that the weight I carried for so long is now lifted and I can be free to be me, unapologetically. I want everyone with a mental illness to feel this way. But we all must take the first step, we must bravely come forward in our truth. Thats where the magic lies.
March 6, 2017. I will never forget the date and I will never forget the place. And despite an unfortunate series of events that evening that led me to be over-served, I will also never forget what he did or what he said and the squirmy high pitched voice he used that night.
At a bar in Manhattan after a work event, my business partner put his hand up my dress and pulled at my stockings, grabbing me by my crotch telling me over and over again that he just wanted to put his fingers up my pussy. Unimaginable. I must have been pretty drunk - maybe even blacked out - because I don't remember exactly what happened right before that. Not good. But what was even worse was this person who I knew and trusted took advantage of my condition and instead of helping me when I was clearly in bad shape, he hit on me. Or at least that is the way I looked at it initially.
He is very strong. I grabbed his forearm with both my hands and told him no and to stop and I tried to pull his hand out from under my dress.
He did not listen and he did not stop even though I told him no multiple times.
Even though I physically tried to fight him off.
It was bad. When something like that happens to you it plays a trick on your brain. If it was a stranger I would have yelled for help. But it was not. It was someone I knew and trusted. Eventually, I did get him to stop and convinced him that it was time to go. On 5th Avenue I told him we were both going home. He said he wanted to take me to a hotel. He started grabbing up my dress again and telling me again that he just wanted to put his fingers up my pussy.
"I have a big dick and you are going to like it." he said.
I continued to tell him no and to stop. He grabbed me again and literally put his tongue down my throat. I tried to push him off; to tell him no; to breathe.
But he was stronger than me and he didn't listen. I was nauseous. He made me nauseous and so did the wine and scotch that I drank that night. I managed to push him off with one big burst of strength. And then I went to the side of the building and threw up. I threw up the booze, I threw up his disgusting words, and I threw up his tongue being jammed down my throat.
He asked me if I was okay and I looked at him with anger and disgust and I said no.
"No I am not okay. This is not okay. You need to leave. Go home." I yelled. And he finally listened to me.
I woke up in my bed the next morning not feeling so well on all fronts. I had a text from his wife. Whom I never met. Asking if he had done anything inappropriate the night before. I was still thinking he hit on me. I panicked. "No. He was fine." I responded.
He called me later that morning and said he couldn't remember the night and asked me if I remembered anything. I let him know he hit on me and that he used disgusting language and he was completely out of line. That he wanted to take me to a hotel. He said he didn't remember.. "You told me you had a big male part and I was going to like it."
He snickered and said well I do but that's besides the point. And then he proceeds to tell me we were never going to talk about this again.
He was heading out on a guys trip and by the time he returned I was heading out to an industry conference. I hadn't told anyone. Not my family, not my friends, no one. It was 10 days since it happened.. My female colleague asked me at the conference how the partnership was going and I said not good. I told her he hit on me and that it was beyond awkward that it was disturbing. She asked me what happened and I told her the whole story.
"That's is not hitting on you that is sexual assault" she stated.
And that was the first time I ever considered that this was more than someone hitting on me. It was a lot to absorb. I knew I couldn't work with him anymore and I shared that with my friend. She said not only can't you not work with him but you have to report him. I really needed to wrap my head around this.
Before heading back east I changed travel plans and headed out to spend some time with my daughter who was working out west at the time. I shared what happened with her. She was appalled. She was clear. She reiterated what my colleague said. She was disgusted with this person and said I needed to report him. It was a reversal of roles but she gave great advice. I then shared what happened with my husband and then my other two children and then some of my friends.
The next day I met with my management team and shared what happened and included the details. It was so uncomfortable to do but I knew it had to be done. I told them that we were no longer going to work together and I was going to tell him but that I wanted to spare his family and not report him to HR. I know - silly me to think this way. Of course this warranted an HR intervention. This was not my works though and I think I was still in shock in a sense that this actually happened. My brain was still playing tricks on me.
I walked into his office and let him know I didn't want to work with him anymore. He was stunned. And then for the second time to date that weird whiny voice came out. Why? But I want to still work with you. Why don't you want to work with me? It was a trigger. I snapped. I then blasted him with exactly what he said and did that night. He covered his ears and said he couldn't listen anymore. There was no changing my mind and he agreed to part ways. And then he said he never wanted to talk about it again.
Until my manager called me at the end of the day and said it had to be reported to HR. I expressed my concern and asked if we could please not report it. I don't want him fired because he has a family and I didn't want that on me. Too bad too late it was serious and needed to be reported. My brain was still playing tricks on me. I knew he had crossed some serious lines and his actions were assault and a crime. Still it was someone I had known and worked with and trusted.
The next day he called my office. He shared that he told his wife and she was very angry but they were going to work it out. I am glad we will never have to talk about this again. We were going to responsibly separate our business so we needed to be cordial. I told him that unfortunately that will not be the case because HR is now involved. The high pitches voice came back. Oh my god why? What did you tell them? They are going to think I am an animal. Please please I am begging you call them up and tell them you were lying tell them take it back tell them you made it up. But I didn't lie, I didn't make it up, and I certainly wasn't going to retract what I shared. He called me back multiple times begging me to take it back. He begged me to tell management that I had made it up. He asked me that if I couldn't do it for him to do it for his family. I felt bad for his family but I told the truth and I wasn't going to retract it. His multiple calls bordered on harassment so I stopped taking his calls.
I received an email from HR. They wanted to meet with me to discuss my concerns that I raised with management. We met that week. She indicated that she had known my name as all external recognitions come through their office and they need to approve all nominations. It was an odd statement, almost a power play. Other than that, she came across as warm and supportive as I shared the entire story. I knew that he would be fired because as I recounted the events and the behavior I realized his actions violated more than company policy. I felt badly about that because of his family so I said I didn't want him fired. She proceeded to tell me that they would determine what to do and it was their job to decide what to do. She also said they wouldn't be able to tell me what they did. They would be meeting with him soon because of the nature of the incident.
A couple of days later, I knew they were meeting with him and I was sick to my stomach. Any minute now he would be fired for his behavior and actions and although I knew it was the right thing to do, I still struggled with the effect this would have on his family. I wasn't thinking clearly of course as he would be the reason he was fired, not me. It was his choice and his actions.
Later that day he was still employed and I couldn't figure out how that could be possible. I later received an email that the HR woman had more questions. Okay. The second meeting was disturbing. It took a very different turn and tone.
"If you are lying you will be fired. He could lose his job, his family and his livelihood. Are you sure you are not lying? And you may not discuss this with anyone. If you discuss this with anyone you could be fired." I was traumatized by this woman. She proceeded to make belittling comments and victim shame me. "I could see how he could get his hand up that dress. He said he was pulling on your stockings but not up by your crotch."
She then gave me an anatomy lesson on where in my body my vagina is - sharing that she has had this same anatomy conversation with her two young daughters (like 4 and 6) really?
"I told him to stop numerous times I told him no."
"He said you meant no not here."
"I had to literally pull his foreman out from my dress." Then she indicated that I really couldn't pull his arm from that angle. Insinuating that I was lying and making it all up.
This is what we refer to as victim-shaming and it is toxic behavior. And it actually is to me the more difficult aspect to overcome. There was more. But you get the picture.
Fast forward to October 2017 and the #metoo movement erupts. I have shared my experience with close friends and colleagues and have received tremendous support and for that I am grateful. I had lunch with a male colleague, a good friend who had been part of the team who hired me. He was in a position to refer clients and I wanted to know what he looks for when referring clients. He answered that he only refers to teams. I asked him why he doesn't refer client opportunities to me. He said because I don't have a partner. But I had a partner and you know it didn't work out. I am good at what I do. I don't need a partner I have a whole team. He then said yes he knew all about my partner and what happened. What did they tell you happened? That you had a prior relationship with him and it just didn't work out. What? There was no prior relationship. Did they tell you.... and then I proceeded to vomit out the whole incident ...omg no I didn't know. I am so sorry. No they didn't tell us that. It was just s bunch of us guys talking about it. It was a while ago. Don't worry. We all know you and know you are a quality person. Just put your head down and work and eventually everyone will forget about this. I thanked him and I was thankful for his friendship and that he shared this with me. And then I called the best attorney in New York City to discuss this. My biggest mistake when the incident first happened is that i did not get legal representation on day one when this first occurred. I didn't do anything wrong so I didn't think I needed an attorney. I now realize that was a critical mistake on my end. Always always always seek legal advice no matter what!!!! He must have had a top attorney. His job was on the line. And as a result he was protected and I was not.
The attorney I met with and hired is a rock star. She asked me what I wanted. I want him fired. I had completely changed my position on this. My mind was no longer playing tricks on me. He screwed up. He crossed the line. He committed the crime. He was still at my company showing up at conferences, seeing him at the office - it made me sick to my stomach. It felt so different because now it felt like he got away with it, didn't accept any responsibility in this and was even a bit arrogant. Too late I was told. They had already decided his fate and could not change it. Do you want to leave? Do you want money? Has your business suffered as a result of this? No, no and no. I like the people here ,I know everyone, I know how to navigate the firm. I am not leaving. And my business is doing great. And no. I don't want money. I just don't. Well then what do you want? I want them to never do this to another human being. It was the most traumatizing time of my life. I was stressed out every day. I was worried that they wouldn't believe me and I would be fired. It scared the hell out of me. I was terrified. I ended up with bronchitis. I threw my back out and had unbearable pain for months. I attribute this to the stress and the duress of the way I was treated by the woman in HR and the way this was handled.
The attorney was my saving grace. The attorney found 10 violations of case law in this investigation and prepared a letter to my firm. This attorney is one of the best in the country and they were appalled by the way this investigation by my firm was handled.
I was slow to respond when it was time to send the letter in. I was told that it may reopen a new investigation and cause me more duress. I was told my goal of procedural changes would never be known. I was told there was no real upside for me. After 9 months of stress I decided to end it and I chose not to send it. I wanted to stay at my firm because I have many great relationships and resources and the people are not the HR woman who failed me failed our firm and failed our community. Who said there are places in hell for women who don't help other women? I was thriving in my business and did not want to leave and did not want money. I only wanted the firm to change the way they handle these matters going forward. But there was no way we would know if they would make any changes and their would be no upside for me in delivering the letter. There was only more downside. Speaking up cost me. It cost me my health for a time - I came down with bronchitis during this investigation and three out my back for a year. It cost me my mental health for a while as I actually was in fear that maybe they would believe him and his lies as he tried to save his job and if they believed him and not me then I could lose my job and it cost me because I did not know that I would need my own legal representation.
I thought one day if I ever do leave my current firm I would deliver the letter as part of my exit interview. Or maybe write a book one day and share these events then. The book would be about more than this one incident - it would be about resiliency and finding my own definition of success. But...
Earlier this week news broke That Rowan Farrow has a new book coming out and it shares details about the rape that caused NBC to fire Matt Lauer. It brought back a flood of emotions and the events of that night. The sexual assault. The idea that something like this could happen to someone like me and at this point in my life. Really? I am grateful that NBC and the people that sat at the desk with Matt acknowledge his "appalling, horrific and reprehensible" behavior and confirm why they took immediate action against him as soon as they learned of this behavior. It gives me hope that we are not going to accept this type of behavior or action. I do not accept it and my heart goes out to the woman who has been forced into the limelight, with photographers chasing her down in front of her home, snapping pictures, freezing her image in time when she is scared and she is vulnerable and she feels violated. Again. She was brave to speak up and face someone so much bigger stronger and more powerful then her. I understand where she is coming from. How maybe her mind played tricks on her too. There is a huge cost to sharing such an assault - an assault on your body but even more an assault on your being - and being publicly identified as the victim.
On a positive note, many firms have changed the way they address these incidents now. I hope my firm has revisited the way they handle sexual assault and the way they treat the victim too. I hope it will be a better experience for the next person and they are treated with respect, support and kindness.
Fast forward to today. He is still working at my firm and every time I see him I get a visceral reaction and feel nauseous. I think if this event had happened six months later in the midst of the #metoo movement he would have been fired. I also "heard" that this same fellow had been fired years ago from another firm for sexually harassing a woman. But there is no public information available on this. This is the cost of keeping things quiet. An opportunity to repeat this behavior. Maybe worse next time.
I like to think my firm now knows they made the wrong decision and should have fired him.
I have chosen to not be a victim. I spoke up. It did cost me. But I would do it again. I have been determined to find ways to support women and to have a positive impact on others and make a difference at my firm. I share this article anonymously in order to protect myself. Because we need to put our oxygen mask on first and we need to heal and move past the damage caused by others. In my case - by him and by the woman who works in HR.