A Year in Review: How 2021 Treated Me

If you’re wondering what the end of a manic episode looks like. It’s $10,000 in credit card debt and a crushing amount of financial stress. It’s also $5,000 in medical bills that you owe for the privilege of being diagnosed with Bipolar disorder. And exactly no coping skills for where to go from there. Did I mention money stress?

Earlier this year, I had a manic episode which put me into the hospital. I’ve had manic episodes before, but most of my friends and those close to me just thought I was being extra or quirky. Jetting off to France for the weekend or quitting my job to buy a horse aren’t detrimental, so to speak, they’re just odd and spontaneous. And we just assumed my depression was due to some pretty traumatic events in my childhood and early adulthood. I’d already been diagnosed with PTSD. 

But this time, I presented something different. I’m the lucky Bipolar person that has the privilege of presenting with both mania and depression at the same time. I was on top of the world, and also wanted to die. And instead of being fun and whimsical, I was trapped in an unending terror house. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. Was thinking entirely too much all the time, and letting my trauma replay itself over and over again until I was stuck. I also stole a bunch of shit from a Big Box Store. (Not a high light, but let me tell you, my skincare routine is bomb as fuck right now.)

It was exhausting and terrifying. So on August 3rd, I checked myself into a psychiatric institution to find stability I was lacking and to find answers to questions I’d been asking for years, namely, “why am I like this?” or, consequently, “why can no one handle me?”  And if you follow me on Twitter, you followed in real time my two month mental health journey towards a healthier me. 

I’m now on the right concoction of meds that keeps me stable, although I sleep entirely too much, and I’m making huge changes in my life. 

I’m Leaving the Corporate World

Including changing my job, which for the first time, doesn’t feel like a desperate attempt to control the demons inside of me. Instead, it’s a healthy choice giving me a fresh start. 

My previous role was as a copywriter, and we were expected to produce anywhere from 3,000-7,000 words a week on top of being client facing for 3-5 hours a day. And as someone who’s creativity is tied to her highs and lows, it wasn’t a long term tenable position. I was really struggling to perform at the level needed of me, and I was burning out.

It’s kind of heartbreaking. I started that role manic, and with such high hopes. I’m leaving it settled and aware of my boundaries. But I loved my boss, and she cultivated so much in me. And I’m sad to leave her and the people there.

But sometimes choosing yourself means leaving behind what isn’t working, even if it’s a bitter sweet ending.

Piecing Together an Income

One of the things I’ve noticed is that as a person with Bipolar, I have quiet and loud periods. Times when I’m frenetic and creative and bursting with ideas. I write like there’s no tomorrow. And produce products and hustle through courses. I’m a powerhouse. And times when I’m settled, pensive and need to step back and reflect. During those periods of time, writing even 200 words feels like a struggle. I can still do it, but it’s not the best work I produce. 

As I move forward in this period of my life, I’m trying to find a better balance between creative work and work I can do when I’m quiet. 

Right now, I have a few freelance gigs lined up, but not enough to feel comfortable, and I’m hoping I don’t need to go back to being a barista. But I have that in my back pocket, because that’s a job I can do no matter the circumstance. 

I’d love to become a full-time writer in the finance space. I’ve had a few conversations with a few different people on how to make that happen, but nothing has materialized yet. 

I’m also launching a small business with a friend of mine, but we haven’t made any sales yet. And that weight is looming large. I’m deep diving into marketing and adjusting my social media strategy accordingly. But to be honest, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. 

It’s kind of an adventure, and we’re figuring it out as we go. We’re on a shoestring budget and just trying different things out as we go. I’ve never attempted anything like this before, and I’m really enjoying marketing and how to play on people’s psychology. But I’m worried because I’m putting in so much effort without knowing if there’s a payoff in the end. 

I also interviewed for a part-time position as an editorial assistant that I really want. It would cover the second half of my bills, and I’d get to actively participate in building knowledge about Infant Mental Health, which is a topic I’m interested in and passionate about. I find out in a few weeks if I get the position.

One more thing, I’m apprenticing under Sylvia’s instructor to learn how to teach dogs, something that I’ve been interested in for awhile. I love working with animals, and I’ve always loved active work. 

As part of that, I’m taking over her social media and marketing as well. Again, I have no idea what I’m doing, but for once, I’m not letting that stop me from attempting something. Because something is better than nothing. 

All of this together, and I’ll somehow be okay. It’s a lot of maybes and I’m not sure right now. But I’m at peace. 

How’s the Money Looking 

As I started this post, I’m pretty deep in credit card debt. So deep that I’m working with a credit recovery program to help settle my debt. I never thought I would be here, but with Bipolar disorder, sometimes you make rather wild choices without the ability to say no. Mania is more of an experience than a feeling. It’s kind of like your body produces its own drug. I love it. And I hate it. All at once. My meds add about $100 a month into my budget, but they keep me stable and able to recover financially. 

And my program reduced my monthly credit card bills from $500 a month to $186 a month. And I’ll have the next four years to pay it off. Right now, my credit will take a dive, but it’ll spring back as I complete the program. And the financial relief I’m feeling working with a company to settle my debt is well worth the dip in credit. Ironically, my one regret was that I didn’t buy an Apple Watch before I was done being manic, because I really want one. Alas, it’ll be a present for when I finish the program. 

I also have more general debt than I did when this year started. Berdie finally bit the dust, so my neighbor (who’s a used car salesman) searched high and low to find me Lucy. A 2014 standard Kia Soul with 110,000 miles on her. She has an aftermarket radio that has Apple Play and a backup camera. I basically feel like I’m from the future now. She also has a kill switch which I need to get taken off, but I’m still saving up the money for that. My car note is $9,070, and I’m on a 60 month term at a 5 percent APR.  The monthly payment is $179, and the car insurance is $245. 

Finally, I have about six years left on my student loans. It feels like those things just will not die. But I started with $34,000 and I’m now at $17,050. Through the year and a half of deferment thanks to the Pandemic, I continued to pay on them. But my full payments start back in a few months. I’m really not ready for them, and would love it if Biden canceled student loan debt. In the meantime, I’ll work with my student loan provider to see if they can lessen the monthly payment. Right now, it’s $269. 

And finally, the most expensive cost, Sylvia’s training. I’ll do a full post on this later, but service dog training is not inexpensive. On top of that, border collies are not a cheap breed in general. For her service dog work, it’s $400 a month, and for her rally classes (so she can blow off steam and have fun), it’s $200 every six to eight weeks. I’d be much more financially on top of life without these costs, but my quality of life would suffer immensely. Thankfully, she’ll complete her training in April of 2023 and I’ll have at least the $400 a month fed back into my budget. 

What Does This All Mean

It means that over the next six years, I’m going to hustle hard. It means that I have the ability to create quite a life for myself, but I need to stick my head down and power through it. Right now, I don’t have a lot of well laid out plans, but I have an outline. Something that’s enough to pull me through the next couple of months as I try to figure out a plan that works for me. I know I’ll have enough to pay my bills, and I know that I can always go back to being a barista. 

I’m proud of where I am. I’m proud of the stability that I’ve created for myself. Do I wish a diagnosis wouldn’t have come with a $15,000 sticker price? Yes. But am I going to spend anytime beating myself up over something I couldn’t control? No. 

I’m still figuring out how to live a full and healthy life, and I found out that corporate America is not the right place for me. Here’s to bigger and better things, and living a life worth having.