This is the second in a series of blogs examining the stigma surrounding mental health clinicians who live with the same conditions they treat. A variety of viewpoints and experiences will be presented.

Sometimes, anticipating the stigma surrounding an identity or condition can be as bad as actually experiencing it. Predicted stigma comes with real costs and lost opportunities, especially for therapists who treat the mental health conditions they live with and the clients they could serve.

I have lived with bipolar disorder for over 25 years. I am a therapist in California (psychological associate working towards licensure under a clinical psychologist.) In the lifelong pursuit to “make my mess my message,” I organically found myself specializing in the diagnosis and treatment of bipolar disorder. 

This move is not surprising: many therapists choose to apply their own experience to the betterment of their clients’ lives. In my opinion, this is a wonderful choice that allows therapists to leverage their hard-won wisdom and ultimately be more effective. 

But it begs the tough question for the therapist: should I tell anyone about my own diagnosis or will I suffer stigma?

In my experience, most clinicians treating what they have do NOT disclose. I co-lead a peer support group for mental health clinicians living with mood disorders and we often discuss the choice of disclosure: who should know, what they should know, and when they should know. People in this group fear being stigmatized for their own iterations of the conditions they treat and therefore, by and large, stay silent about them.

Graduate schools and training programs add fuel to this unnecessary fire by advising fresh and frightened students to never disclose due to the inevitable consequences they will face.  After all, what will your clients think? And what will your colleagues think?!

In reality, I haven’t faced any direct stigma regarding this dual role as a therapist with bipolar who treats bipolar. Perhaps I just haven’t noticed the stigma because I am public about my diagnosis and am unconcerned with what others think and say about me. But perhaps it is because others have less stigma than we might imagine in this circumstance. If I have proven myself to be a competent therapist, I’d like to think my bipolar takes a backseat in the minds of others.

What my clients actually seem to think:

There is a tacit understanding with my clients who have bipolar. They don’t have to be embarrassed. They don’t have to hedge. They know that I’ve been there (or somewhere nearby) and I truly sympathize with their pain and struggles. That feeling of being seen and not alone is transformational.  If I weren’t public with my condition, this impact would be lost. Clients have directly told me what a relief it is to have someone who “gets it” and can offer guidance not only from textbooks but from their own battles. This is a benefit that I offer as a therapist to those living with bipolar that other therapists, however phenomenal, simply cannot. Perhaps this is a silver lining of the large cloud that is bipolar.

What my colleagues actually think:

If any of my colleagues have had stigmatizing thoughts or made negative remarks about my capacity to be a therapist while living with bipolar, they haven’t shared it with me or let it trickle down through the grapevine. From my supervisor, I have received only compassion and support as needed. Even from colleagues who I’ve witnessed perpetuating stigma about bipolar in general, they haven’t had negative judgments about me or have had the good sense to keep it to themselves.

With predicted stigma comes the cost of many missed benefits and opportunities. If I didn’t share my diagnosis, my clients wouldn’t enjoy that extra level of connection. I wouldn’t provide an additional data point for my colleagues about what bipolar disorder looks like outside of a textbook or case note. And I wouldn’t be an example for others with the condition trying to accomplish their own goals. 

I encourage therapists living with the conditions they treat to move past this predicted stigma and relish their lived experience superpowers. It may feel like a leap of faith, but the change you can affect on the other side is exhilarating.