I work as a clinical psychologist, and also have a mental illness. I was first diagnosed in 2014, when I was admitted to an inpatient unit. I had bouts of depressions previously, but had not needed more than the support of therapists and friends. When I got seriously ill, I was 29 years old. My life had not been a walk in the park, I had experienced my share of traumatic incidences (a rape at age 20 and my best friend being killed in a car crash when I was 15) but had mostly coped well. When I had my first manic episode, I had a month of several stressors that in the end got too much. I slept less and less, but still tried to do everything at once. At one point I simply could not do it anymore, and I was officially an inpatient, experiencing how it is to suddenly be in a position where I needed help. I have since had two more serious breakdowns, but am now leaving a healthy life as a mother and therapist. In this blog I want to share my experiences, anonymously. I hope my story can inspire others, showing that serious mental health issues does not mean a life in misery.