Over eight months ago, I received the diagnosis of Bipolar I disorder. It is a disease with no known cure, but it can be managed through a regiment of medications and counseling. There is no reason why an individual with this condition can not go on to lead a fulfilling and productive life.

For the longest time, I denied my diagnosis. I denied that I needed medication, for I believed the prescriptions were the true source of my depression, my withdrawal from others, and my suicidal thoughts. It was medicine's fault. It was not my brain chemistry.

From what I've read online and from what I've been told by my psychiatrist, it can take a while to find the right prescription along with the right dosage to finally feel "normal." While psychiatrists may have extensive knowledge of the interactions between medication and the human mind, there is not a formulaic method or a one size fits all approach when it comes to the field of psychiatry. Finding the right medication is simply a system of trial and error.

While all brains carry out the same functions, not all brains are identical. Although a cast may be able to mend a broken bone after six or seven weeks, the first shot at treating a mental health disorder may not always work. It can be trying. Seeing if a medication is compatible can require a great deal of patience, for it can take anywhere between four to six weeks to see if a medication is effective.

In my experience, it seems every couple of months I am having to start back to square one. Over the course of my treatment, I have been prescribed four different medications and none have been proven effective. When I was on Abilify, I fainted in the doctor's office, due to low blood pressure. When I was on Latuda, I would spend more than half the day in bed, wishing for the day to be over.

A month ago, my psychiatrist prescribed me a new combination of medications, and with it, I had hope for a return to normalcy.

After months of spending my days camped in front of the television, I began to find joy in my old activities. I started to play the piano again. I started running again. I began reaching out to friends. In these past two weeks, things have really started to look up for me. However, just when I think I have finally found the right concoction of medications, I find my body covered literally head to toe in a severe rash prompting two separate visits to the ER.

I was searching for any reason for the source of the rash besides my medications. Maybe it was because of my belly button piercing I got a week ago. Maybe I came into contact with poison ivy in the middle of winter. Or maybe it was the sushi I ate earlier this week. I didn't want to accept that the medication that had finally lifted me from my depression was the source of my blotchy and itchy skin.

I don't want there to be the impression that I am solely reliant on pills to make life bearable.

Believe me, I wish I could take the chance of not being on medication. But after experiencing a manic episode that lasted up to four weeks, I don't want to put my mental health or my safety in jeopardy again. It was a scary time, and I don't want to be hospitalized again.

I'm not going to give up, and you shouldn't either.

Although these past few months have been a struggle, I know it is only a matter of time before I find the proper treatment method. For the sake of my future, I have to believe that I will find the proper treatment method. Obviously, I just hope it comes sooner rather than later, so I can get on with my life.