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I have manic depression, also known as bipolar disorder type II. In June-August 1999, I had a major depressive episode and spent a lot of time out of work. My coworkers and supervisors were very supportive, and I thought I was lucky. But in March-May 2000, I had another episode, involving more absences and culminating in a suicide attempt. This time, I lost my job. On May 5, I took an overdose of my medication and was rushed to the hospital the next day. I spent more than a week in a coma and several days in intensive care; then I was transferred to an inpatient/outpatient psychiatric treatment program. I spent about seven weeks there, recovering and preparing to return to work; I was able to take time off through the Family and Medical Leave Act.

I called the head of my department after I was released from inpatient treatment and told him I wanted to get better so I could come back to work. He told me they would be "honored" to have me back-but that I needed to reapply for my job. You see, my old boss retired and a new person was hired in her place. I had to send him my résumé and submit to an interview, during which I explained about my illness and the circumstances of the latest episode.

The new boss said he'd get back to me within a week. Nine business days later, I called to find out what was going on.

He said I wasn't needed there anymore. None of my coworkers were terminated. In fact, none of them had to resubmit their résumés. I was working for a branch of the City of New York, and we had an Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) representative/advocate. I went to her and tried to explain my situation, but she castigated me for having been absent much of the month of April and not calling in so that no one knew where I was. I was not making phone calls because I live alone and I was clinically depressed.

It was very upsetting to see someone who has endured prejudice herself (she walks with crutches) turn and blame me for behavior that was the direct result of my illness. She was insensitive to my situation, which only goes to show you that even within the ADA crowd, people with mental illnesses are still blamed for their diseases.

The ADA advocate acknowledged that I'd been through a horrible ordeal, but recommended I get on with my life instead of trying to get my job back. This ultimately turned out for the best, but at the time it was very hurtful. It made me feel that I couldn't hold down a job, and that they were justified in firing me for having an illness.

After I was unemployed for a few months, the employer tried to terminate my unemployment benefits by claiming I'd never notified them that I would be out after my suicide attempt. I called the ADA advocate again, and she did manage to get my unemployment reinstated. But it still hurts three years later to have my disability considered less valid than hers. I can walk, yes, but when I'm depressed I can't get out of bed.

When epidemiologists measure "disease burden"--the impact of a disease or injury on mortality and disability--major depression is considered equivalent to blindness, and schizophrenia is comparable to quadriplegia. I'm not sure what my illness would equal in "physical disability" terms, but I've lost months if not years to depression, which is both agony and inertia, and have suffered greatly as the result of hypomania as well.

Mental illness costs America's employers something like $43 billion each year. An article I read discussed "presenteeism"-when you're there at your desk but not producing much. This past spring, during another depressive episode, I was definitely a "presentee" worker for many weeks. Thankfully, I'm feeling better now. The article was sympathetic to the workers' plight and suggested that it was in the employers' best interest to ensure their workers got the best medical care possible because you can't fire someone for getting sick.

Or can you? My former employer certainly got away with it. In addition to the ADA rep at work, I spoke to others at the local and national offices. And they all told me there was nothing I could do.