Bipolar Disorder: The Invisible Disability

Living and working with a mental illness.

Last year I was classified as disabled. I am not blind or deaf, nor do I have any physical disability, I am bipolar, that mental illness that used to be called manic depression. There are many points on the spectrum of bipolar disorder but for me it takes the form of chronic depression with episodes of agitation and hyperactivity. I lost my job as a practice nurse after suffering a manic episode at work. The episode was brought on by a stressful situation at work which went on for weeks during which the staff were not given any information far less support.

The one place one would expect understanding and allowances to be made for a long term disease would be a health centre right? Wrong! Not only was I encouraged to resign I was also told to seek another GP for myself although I had been in that practice for over 20 years and the change involved moving to a practice some distance away. In today's society where medical practice is big business, the Practice Manager and accountant are in charge; the bottom line on the accounts is the imperative and the cost is "people".

The experience above has exacerbated my illness: I can no longer trust myself or trust the people around me. I can hardly leave the house, doing so puts me in such a panic. I have an inner hall door then a door to the outside, that space in between is like an air-lock; when I open that inner door to leave, the panic rises in my throat. I do the tasks outside I need to do and almost run back to the security of those locked doors.

I tell this only to illustrate the problems people like me face everyday. People do not understand how debilitating depression is. I don't mean just feeling down or sad, but true despair, with thoughts of suicide that completely takes over your life.

For me, people look at me, tell me I look wonderful, and wonder why I am not working. My disability is invisible. I can put on a wonderful show for short periods of time but can no longer sustain the pretence of normality for any length of time. To work outside the home I would need an atmosphere where staff understood the flash shifts in moods and the effects they have on me and my ability to cope with situations at different times. If I could not find that within a professional health environment what hope is there in a lay environment?

In today's society it is illegal to discriminate against anyone on grounds of disability. While that is very well on paper, in reality employers and team leaders can find ways around it. I took advantage of one guaranteed interview for a job only to turn up on the day, walk into a hostile room where the interviewer obviously had no intention of considering me for the job.

I don't think this experience is unusual nor do I know how to fix it. Perhaps all one can do is write articles such as this in the hope that passing the message on will educate people to more understanding.