I’m Telling the Truth, But I’m Lying: A Funny, Transparent Look at Mental Health

Poet, author and mental health advocate Bassey Ikipi aims to open up a “chamber of empathy”  with her new novel, “I’m Telling the Truth, But I’m Lying,” a slim volume of essays and stories on Ikipi’s honest and comical journey with Bipolar II disorder. 

Us readers are taken on a journey through Ikipi’s life, starting when she was born in Nigeria in 1976 and moving to Oklahoma with her mother to join her father 4 years later and up in her teenage years as part of BET’s show Teen Summit. But her life takes an interesting turn as she enters her 20s- she was a performer for Def Poetry Jam on BET- she gives a painful, honest look at how life was for her before and after her diagnosis of anxiety and bipolar II disorder. 

The brevity of her anxiety attacks, how untreated depression can lead to a misdiagnosis and introspective, deep questions that only your soul can answer, Ikipi describes with candor, brave hearted-ness and wit how she navigated the tough terrains of mental illness with only a spirit that Ikipi can possess. 

One of my favorite essays of the collection has to be Young Girls They Do Get Weary- it was an essay about Ikipi that resonated with me on what it means to try to be normal. Taken from a line in Otis Redding’s famous soul tune “Try a Little Tenderness,” Ikipi told in great detail what her definition of “normal” was and the discourse surrounding it. 

“Imagine you don’t fit anywhere, not even in your own head,” she writes.

The essay collection is filled with pieces that will both shock and intrigue you, like her very first essay aptly titled “The First Essay is To Prove To You I Had a Childhood,” referring to the memory loss that can often be associated as a painful side effect of mental illness. 

Her candor in the book is only an extension of her efforts at The Siwe Project, a non-profit organization promoting mental health awareness in the black community. Ikpi founded the project in the wake of the 2012 death of her close friend’s daughter, Siwe Monsanto, who died by suicide, according to the organization’s website.

“I get emotional when people say, ‘I didn’t know how else to put this into words, I didn’t know how I could communicate this thing I felt, and now I can show my mom and say, “Page 91!” That’s what it feels like,’ ” Ikpi says. “That was important to me.”

As a person who suffers from and survives manic depression, Ikipi’s personal account of how we think we know ourselves but sometimes even our innermost being can get confused via mental illness resonated with me in a very painful but honest way. Her wit, comedy and resilience makes this book so special, so tender and thoughtful. Ikipi is a master at her craft and this is a story that should be read and celebrated by everyone on how to overcome mighty giants, lose and keep your sanity and turn troubles into triumphs, all while giving a mirror to mental illness and humanity.