When I wake up, I am jubilant. I start the day knowing that I will go to school, do my homework, go on Facebook and cuddle with my cat. That all sounds mighty dandy, but I forgot one step: taking my 300 mg dose of Amitriptyline. Amitriptyline is a mood stabilizer that combats my bipolarism, and thank god for that.

Looking back on my sophomore year, I cannot even fathom how different I am today. Mornings used to start with me wondering what I was doing on this godforsaken planet. I still managed to go to school, but gradually things got worse. My stress level was so high that my body invited any sort of illness in, while at the same time, I tried to maintain an image of a “happy Laura.”

Halfway through my sophomore year, I started hurting myself, and I would have morbid thoughts racing through my head at school and at home. Days were sort of a blur, between me missing school, hurting myself, having overwhelming thoughts of suicide and hiding my secret. I began having daily panic attacks. These panic attacks consumed me with feelings of helplessness, an obsession with failure and not being able to escape the anxiety and depression in general.

One day, in a state of clarity, I told my mom that I had been cutting myself. I don’t remember having any feelings about what I said or her reaction; all I remember was knowing that everything had changed because now someone knew. I then told one of my best friends and then somehow all five of my best friends found out–they later told me that they had formed a legion and had meetings concerning what they could do to help me. Knowing people knew made it harder to hurt myself.

My parents started me with therapy and took me to a psychopharmacist. It took almost two years to get my medication right; I spent one year taking an antidepressant before realizing that I was bipolar. It wasn’t until halfway through my senior year that I was able to feel stable. I know that sounds like a long time, but to me, it’s still surprising. Earlier in high school, I would never have thought that I would wake up wanting to start the day.

Recently a friend asked me if I truly feel better, and with all honesty I can say that I feel wonderful! I even know that if depressive feelings return, they won’t be permanent and that I have everything it takes to make myself happy again.

Sometimes, I feel like a recovered alcoholic—I know the troubles, but I also know the difference. I want to let everyone know, as cliché as it sounds, that they aren’t alone, and that change is possible if you want it to be.

Add me on Facebook if you want to talk! I’m Laula Gumbrecht.