When my journey of the last twenty years began, I never realized the obstacles I would have to conquer to overcome and be cured completely from my bipolar disorder. I have received a miracle from God that has been confirmed by three separate psychiatrists. It’s hard to say, but before my diagnosis, I said things about the mentally ill and viewed them in ways I never should have. As a result, God humbled me, and I became one of them. I will be revealing the procedures of psychiatry, I ask the reader to please, please, please remember this: these procedures were put in place many years ago. It is not the fault of any present or past psychiatrist or medical professional. I have discovered many want a positive change. I’m thankful to have had a complete healing in which medication was a part of the process including caring psychiatrists. As I share my personal experiences, my main goal is to share what Jesus Christ has done throughout my journey. The long journey of my mental illness began on a Christmas day. Our children were very young. Kendra was four, and Chad was one and a half years old. Mentally and physically, I had begun to suffer. I was beginning to shut down emotionally, and I cried alone quite often, never wanting Kendall to see me cry. However, situations in life had brought me to a point where I wasn’t crying. In the days leading up to this Christmas, my crying had ceased. Deep inside myself, I was comfortable with feeling this way. I was so relieved because no more tears would flow, and in fact I liked it. Physically I was losing weight and my strength, while I had no control over either situation, emotionally or physically. The day after Christmas I was taken to a hospital. It wasn’t long before a psychiatrist was with me. This psychiatrist would turn out to be one of my angels, as I like to refer to wonderful, encouraging, and caring people who have made a difference in my life. I did not know it at the time, but he would be my main psychiatrist through my journey into bipolar illness. This visit was one of three visits I would have in the next several years to the hospital’s psychiatric unit. I do remember many questions and procedures I experienced. When the social worker entered the room he began the questioning with, “So, how many affairs did you have?” Truly I thought he was playing some kind of game with me. I was still not in my right mind, struggling between being insane and coming back to reality. To sum it up quickly, I thought, I’m ready to play whatever game we are playing today. Let’s go! The social worker didn’t know me on a personal basis. He had never met me before. If he did, he would have been aware I love watching game shows. He also would have known I don’t have marital affairs. I replied to the affairs question by quoting biblical names. I had entered the unit with my Bible in my hands. Then he asked “So, did you go on a shopping spree?” I thought, Say what? What are you talking about? You definitely don’t know me personally or anything about me. Why are you asking such stupid questions? As far as spending money, I’m the one who writes the checks for our bills. Financially, I’m careful in what we spend. As a matter of fact, I use coupons! I replied by saying, “I bought cars and boats, etc.” Since I love watching game shows, I thought that instead of playing The Price is Right, we were playing another game I named personally, The Diagnosis Is All Wrong! My mind was so mixed up by this point from the questioning that I felt like my head was being spun like in Wheel of Fortune. I was stunned to realize that a procedure that recognizes mentally ill patients as individuals did not exist. Why? Why would anyone believe we all think alike and act the same? Mentally ill patients come from different heritages, backgrounds, and environments. Our illness affects us regardless of our age, race, ethnicity, gender, education, or occupation. I thought, It’s time to make a deal. It’s time for words and actions. First and foremost, I thought, Start with respect! When dealing with a mentally ill patient, doctors must show respect in all areas. Our minds have been violated, so please avoid any additional violations. Furthermore, they can be changed, and the screening can be done in a gentle and caring way. Mentally, I had suffered; my mind had been twisted and violated. In other words, I needed comforting to help my mind begin to rest and heal. Many years later, someone we knew committed suicide. It affected me in a way I never realized it would. Through this family’s loss, I began to speak out against psychiatric procedures. The day came for my next psychiatrist’s visit. To sum it up, I was ready. Kendall was with me during the entire session with my doctor. As I entered his office and sat down, I let him have it! “You don’t have a clue of what you’re doing!” I said. “You get my medical records, now! I never had an affair! If it has been written in my medical files that I had an affair, you take it out!” I was furious. My doctor replied, “Joyce, I’ve never seen you like this before!” I continued. I was furious. He said, “If you don’t be quiet, you are going to find yourself back in the hospital.” I looked over at Kendall; he fell like a ton of bricks, and I knew I was in trouble. This was just the beginning of years to come where through the leading of the Holy Spirit and God’s strength that was instilled I fought to prove that God can give miracles for mental illnesses!