One year ago, I was diagnosed with Bipolar II, Social Anxiety, and PTSD. I was coming out of a drawn out, traumatic time period of my life - what I often refer to as "the dark age". Over a 10 year span, my psychological health had progressively declined, and yet I stubbornly avoided confiding in anyone or reaching out for help until I quite literally felt I was reaching the point of a life or death choice. That is, I was in a state of such despair that I either needed to find help or give up on life. My choice led me to the outstretched arms of a kind-hearted friend, who in turn aided me in enlisting the help of a mental health counselor, a doctor, and a psychiatrist.

The possibility of medication was originally brought up as temporary solution by the mental health counselor I began meeting with weekly at my college. She believed that while I was learning healthier thinking patterns to replace detrimental thoughts leading to depression and anxiety, I could use medication as a sort of crutch to boost me out of the rut I'd dug myself into. Then, once I had found a better frame of mind with which to face life, I could ween myself off of the medication and continue on my merry way, fully recovered from any mental illness I had suffered.

I am not an avid supporter of medication, and I believe the United States of America is over-medicated. Particularly in the context of psychological health, I feel that we are too quick to blame problems on irreversible biological factors and opt for the easy solution: pop a daily pill, and your problems will be gone. With the medical technology of today it seems we've drifted into laziness and prefer this easy way out rather than taking the time and effort to improve our lifestyles. That said, I do believe there are serious cases of mental illness that do require medication - it is just a question of which cases, and how much medication is required, and for how long? In my particular situation, I wound up agreeing that a temporary medical intervention was just what I needed to pull my out of my rut, so long as I wasn't to be permanently drugged!

I visited my regular physician, and after a brief spoken and written questionnaire she announced that I was suffering from a simple case of depression and anxiety. She prescribed me the SSRI antidepressant Lexapro and sent me on my way. Lexapro was extremely effective - half the time. There were moments I was flying so high I could have sworn I would never feel down again - but on the other side of the mood swings, I was suffering from more negativity than ever before, even more hopeless, and convinced the agonizing pain I felt would never end.

So I was referred to a psychiatrist who gave me my final diagnosis explaining the awful mood swings Lexapro had induced: According to him, I have a mild version of Bipolar disorder, characterized by frequent depression and mild bouts of mania ("hypomania"). My psychiatrist insists I have to remain medicated for the rest of my life, because bipolar is a biological disorder only partially influenced by environmental factors.

I propose a different perspective. I don't deny that my so-called illness is somehow an innate part of me. I admit that I am much more emotionally sensitive than many people I know, and that my energy cycles from high to low, resulting in apathetic exhaustion or extraordinary enthusiasm. But rather than viewing my unusual psychological makeup as an inherent fault that needs to be corrected, I'd rather take my emotional cues as a signal that I need to improve my lifestyle. The mentally ill are taught to believe that their psychological differences are wrong, but I propose that perhaps it is in fact just another state of being. I am the first to admit that life has been a struggle for me, and the way my brain works hasn't made it any easier! But I trust that mother nature created my body and mind with the ability to sustain itself, without the assistance of a life-long drug prescription, so long as I recognize my individual needs and realize that in order to take care of myself, I might need to live life a little differently than the other people around me. Maybe going to college full-time is a little more stress than I can take on my plate. Maybe I need some quiet time alone every day to recharge. Perhaps I need to incorporate more meditation into my life. For people like me, a more stress-free approach to living might be necessary, though it strays from the fast-paced, achievement-based, modern lifestyle of today. Even just accepting my differences as what they are - differences, neither right nor wrong - has helped calm my anxiety and depression, which partially stem from self-loathing and guilt.

As my counselor and I originally planned, I still intend to ween myself off the Trileptal and Zoloft I am currently taking. Personally, I am grateful for my mind just as it is. My vivid emotional experience of life has bestowed me limitless inspiration. My enthusiastic bursts of energy have granted me the drive to create countless works of art. There are benefits of so-called mental "illness" that we just aren't seeing, and the suffering that comes along with it can be lessened with healthy, stress-free lifestyle choices. I am no longer ashamed of my state and I don't wish to medicate it away. I hope that others, too - both the mentally abnormal and the normal - will come to see our psychological differences without placing judgments of right and wrong.