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I call this part of my life the B Side — like a vinyl record. The best song is always on the A side, but if you take time to listen to the B side, it can be filled with a hidden gem that brings you more joy than you could have ever imagined.
My A side was nothing short of great, or so I thought. I am now living the B side of my life. After my journey with bipolar disorder and depression, the sun is shining in colors I could have never imagined.
This narrative is not one of self-pity, denial, or justification. It’s a story of resilience, acceptance, and hope. A testament to the human spirit’s ability to rise above adversity.
My motto is: “If you are talking about it, it’s not a problem”. I always feel less alone when people share their stories — we all have one and each one is unique. So now, it’s my turn to share mine.
In December 2022, I was diagnosed as bipolar. The tailspin began: The shame, anger, uncertainty of “the label” had me spiraling.
As a mom of four adult daughters, my manic moments couldn’t go unnoticed like they did when my girls were littles. Same for the major depressive phases. I couldn’t hide them anymore.
So now what?
To fully understand the beginning of my B side, you need to understand how I lived the first 50 years. I can sum it up in one simple phrase: Rollercoaster Rana.
When I was up, I was up. And when I was down, I was down. But I like the messy parts because they make me feel alive and make me me — until they get so messy, someone steps in and says, “Are you sure you’re OK”?
My oldest daughter helped me build a medical team so we could start the process of healing.
We enlisted my Nurse Practitioner, a psychologist, an amazing therapist, and I continued to see my functional chiropractor. When the medication regime began, it was trial and error. I was living in four-week increments gauging how I felt. Little by little, I realized that I had become a shell of a human.
By July 2023, my nearest and dearest friend in the world sat me down and asked me, “What is going on? What have you done with [me]?” I felt defeated, broken, and unlovable.
But it was time to start narrating my story instead of allowing everyone else to write my bylines for me.
On my medication journey, when we removed my antidepressant, it ultimately took me into the longest, deepest depression I had ever experienced.
I remember calling my manager and saying, “I can’t do this anymore. I need a break to get myself on track.” He was nothing but supportive.
My manager told me to take the time I needed, take care of myself, and let him know what he could do to help. When we hung up, I went into my bedroom, pulled the shades, and went to bed.
This was the day I started over.
I called my medical team and explained, “I can’t live like this anymore”.
Over the next 12 weeks, we crafted a new path forward with some drastic changes in my medication. I slowly began to tell my story to those closest to me, and I started being nicer to myself and accepting who I really am.
I also faced the “fake it till you make it” syndrome I had programmed myself with. I finally admitted I am not OK — very hard words for me to say — and I accepted that it is OK to not be OK.
We talk about psychological safety and bringing your whole self to work here at Cisco. But when I shared how I was feeling, I never felt safer, more seen, or taken care of by my manager, my team, or Cisco.
This truly is the best place I’ve ever worked. I count my blessings every day that mental health has become a more mainstream topic.
Looking back, I learned that I’m stronger than I ever thought possible. We all are.