I was originally suppose to have gone ip for 3 days but instead spent 3 weeks there including having my birthday in the ward. Luckily I had leave that day to spend most of it with my parents.

I first went ip in May. Miserable. Psychotic and wishing I was dead. This was heavily triggered from a reduce of my zoloft which was dangerously reduced too fast. I was in a comedown from mania. My god I almost lost my job. I was forced to take a months leave to sort myself out. I have taken great advantage of it and agreed to be admitted to an acute mental ward.

I had my obs taken and blood tests. Then my diagnosis was finally pinned down. Bipolar disorder and anemic. It was a relief on my part and my parents. I've learnt to accept it. It is what it is. But I won't let it define me.

My first few days was tough. They played around with my meds and I had psychotic breakdowns where I was screaming out for someone to kill me on the ward and then flopping down crying in the floor. They overdosed me too making me walk around looking drunk because I found it hard to walk and keep my balance.

I pretty much wanted to die.

3 weeks later and the medication is just right for me. I feel a lot better and now I'm going home Friday. A fresh start. The colours look more vibrant. Crystal clear. Nothing looks dull anymore.

This experience has been scary at first but I am not afraid anymore .