What I Would Tell Myself Before the Episode

I was going through a rough time before my episode. I had lost two jobs, and I was experiencing what I described in The Dialectics of Mania as being "beyond the depths of despair."

I guess you have to go back before I became hypermanic, around nine months before the episode, to really know what I would tell myself. I would have said: "Slow the hell down. You are burning out from the inside. It's time to take a break."

I had to lose two jobs to realise it was time to step back. In reality, I was probably burning out two or three years earlier, long before my role at One Door Mental Health ended.

To truly understand what was happening, you have to go back even further to my time at Uniting. I had worked for years without taking a meaningful break. I was constantly pushing forward, constantly striving, constantly trying to achieve the next goal. I convinced myself that if I just worked harder, gave more, and achieved more, everything would eventually fall into place.

What I failed to recognise was that even meaningful work can become unhealthy when there is no balance. Burnout does not always arrive overnight. Sometimes it develops slowly, quietly, over several years. You become so accustomed to carrying stress that it feels normal. You stop noticing the warning signs. You ignore your exhaustion. You tell yourself that you'll rest later. Eventually, it arrives later.

For me, it arrived in the form of collapse. If I had taken time out to assess my situation, even if it meant leaving my job at One Door, I might have discovered something important much sooner: There is more to life than a job.

A job provides stability. It provides income. It provides routine and structure. These things matter. But a job is not the entirety of who you are. At the time, much of my identity was tied to my employment and my professional achievements. When those jobs disappeared, I felt as though I had lost a significant part of myself.

What I could not see then was that another chapter was waiting to begin. Since my episode, I have published four books, written more than twenty manuscripts, and developed six websites. I have explored ideas that I never previously had time to pursue. I have shared my lived experience with others and found meaning in ways I could never have imagined while I was working full-time. The irony is that losing those jobs felt like failure at the time.

Looking back, they may have been redirecting me towards a different path. That does not mean I am grateful for everything that happened. I would never wish a manic and psychotic episode upon anyone. The suffering was real, and the consequences were significant.

However, I can acknowledge that the experience forced me to stop and re-evaluate my life. It forced me to ask difficult questions. Who am I beyond my job title? What do I want to contribute to the world? What kind of legacy do I want to leave behind? Today, I see the answers more clearly.

Working gave me purpose. But creating gives me meaning. Employment helped me make a living. Writing helps me make sense of my life. The work I am building now may or may not become the legacy I hope for. Only time will tell. What matters is that I am creating something that reflects who I am, what I have learned, and what I hope to contribute.

So, if I could go back and speak to myself before the episode, I would not tell myself how to avoid every mistake. I would not tell myself that everything was about to become difficult. I would simply say: Slow down. Rest. Take care of yourself. Your worth is not measured by your productivity. There is more to life than work, and there is more to you than your job. Perhaps that is advice all of us need to hear from time to time.