​​​Stepping Into The Sun

By Sienna

This article is part of a series by The Tapestry Project, commissioned by IMH to share personal narratives from individuals in recovery. The Tapestry Project SG is a registered charity that champions mental health education and empowerment through person-first stories and narrative programmes.​

For five months in 2022, I spent my days within four walls and meshed windows, listening to the deafening beeps of the crisis alarm, and frequently tied up with yellow restraints.​​​ I had grown accustomed to the discomfort of wearing the stained, scratchy baju, and had gotten used to the sharp scent of disinfectant that pervaded the place. I was only 19, and had been in and out of this place - the psychiatric ward - since I was 17. There wasn't much sunlight in my ward, and I often found myself desparately standing at the window, trying to catch a glimpse of the fragile, fickle sunset. There was so much light I couldn't see.

My future seemed unquestionably bleak. I had been labelled as treatment-resistant, and discharge seemed so far away. As I struggled in the psych ward, going through round after round of electroconvulsive therapy, I watched my life pass me by. I watched as my friends prepared for university, watched as some of them slowly forgot me, watched as my relationships crumbled and eroded. I was waving through a window, anxiously tapping on the glass; yearning to leave this dreadful place, yearning to lead a life that was meaningful to me. And yet, recovery seemed like an elusive thing: out of reach and constantly slipping through my fingers.

Eventually, I was stable enough to be discharged. This was possible through a lot of medication adjustments and therapeutic intervention. However, when I was finally safely in the community and back in the sanctuary of my home, I realised that the road to recovery was still long, winding, and intimidating. Bipolar disorder was a demon perching on my shoulder, seemingly inseparable from my identity. I had forgotten who I was, had forgotten my strengths, hobbies, goals - the things that made me, me. I was unsure if I could move forward on my own.

Thankfully, I was blessed with many people I could lean on during this dark period. My family was a strong pillar of support, along with my closest friends and medical care team. They did not walk away when I was at my worst, did not leave me despite my outbursts, unpredictability and suicidality. Instead, they gathered as much light as they could and sent it my way, remaining empathetic and patient as they gently guided me towards recovery. A pivotal moment that set the course of my recovery was when friends and family would pray earnestly for me. As they prayed with soothing voices and laid their warm hands on me, I experienced a peace that surpassed all understanding. I eventually found the courage to return to school, and my subsequent stays in the hospital got shorter and shorter, with longer stretches of time passing between admissions.

Slowly, I started to regain a sense of identity. I am Sienna, who loves to paint. I am Sienna, who loves to sing. I am Sienna, who loves to write. I started writing poetry again, and that proved to be an important emotional outlet, one that gave me catharsis and got me through both my dizzying hypomania and darkest depression.

I am still on the road to recovery as I write this, and I suppose I will be on this journey for the rest of my life. But I am not afraid, because I know I have people around me who are relentlessly cheering me on. I will cling onto little victories, little milestones - the day I turned 21. The day I finally graduated from junior college. The day I received my A Level results. Truly, there are so many little things worth celebrating.

Currently, I am about to enter university as a Psychology student. Selecting this course felt natural to me as I feel a deep desire to help others just as I have been helped. My long-term goal is to be an art psychotherapist, conducting art therapy for youths with mental health conditoins. The road ahead seems uncertain but I am determined to work steadily towards my goal.

I was once trapped in illness, paralysed by fear. With medical intervention, support from the people around me, and my faith, I found a way out.

I am no longer waving through a window. I've walked through the door, stepping into the sun.

Sienna is a 22-year-old student and a lover of books, long walks and matcha lattes. She is committed to trying her best, staying resilient and striving ceaselessly towards recovery.