I am not my bipolar moods.

Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash

For a long time, I’ve struggled with my identity. 

For most of my life, how I felt about myself was reflective of my mood at the time. When I was manic, I saw myself as brilliant. I thought I was doing well enough to be admitted to the best, most elite universities. And, when I was depressed, I was sure I would end up begging for food on the streets.

I had my first major depressive episode as I was graduating from university. So many people with severe mental health conditions struggle first to get a proper diagnosis and second, accept their diagnoses and the implications it means for their life—and I was no exception. It was hard to realize that I was not like everyone else. 

I felt I was giving up my identity for one I didn’t want. 

I didn’t want to be ill. 

My symptoms worsened when I reached my twenties. I went into denial and spiraled into ten years of cyclical episodes. My life consisted of a maze of exhilarating highs, debilitating lows, countless therapist visits, and taking handfuls of antidepressants, benzodiazepines, and recreational drugs. 

While most of my peers were thriving and charting their paths to successful careers and meaningful lives, I struggled to keep myself consistently employed. In addition, maintaining relationships with others was challenging since I had such a shaky self-image. Somehow, my illness kept spinning out of control until I no longer recognized the person who stared back at me in the mirror. 
 
I feared that I would never get better during the worst of my illness. Sitting in my bedroom —each time—waiting for the fog to lift, I felt hopeless. I saw that my friends had lives. They were getting promoted, traveling the world, and getting married. In contrast, I lived a day-to-day existence. I couldn’t plan for the future because I could never predict where my mental illness would take me. 

Then in 2018, I had a massive episode with psychotic features that led me, once again, to a psychiatrist, who finally diagnosed me with bipolar disorder. After receiving this diagnosis, I went through a grieving process. But, I had to accept the reality that I had a mental illness. Being diagnosed with bipolar disorder altered my life course and required me to take time to think about and re-evaluate my sense of self.
 
Integrating this diagnosis into my identity has been a process. First, I had to adjust to the changes that treatment and care of my condition meant for my life. For example, my psychiatrist spent significant time explaining that taking medication was the only way for me to function correctly. As a result, I now understand the importance of staying on track with medications to move forward in my recovery. 

In the first few months after my diagnosis, I believed that the medication would be a magic treatment for me. I didn’t want to work on myself because I thought the pills would bring back my identity as much as I hated taking them. Then I realized, whether I like it or not, that my illness is a big part of my life. It is a part of my identity and something I must approach with proper treatment. I needed to build a healthy lifestyle from the ground up. 
 
My recovery from bipolar disorder started with constructive decisions about my overall health and self-perception. Self-care comes in many forms. To me, it begins with a healthy start to my morning. After waking up, I spend time journaling my intention for the day and adding things to my gratitude list. After that, I meditate, work out and read. 

I take regular breaks during my work day to refill my cup. I am learning to set healthy boundaries and reasonable expectations. I practice yin yoga after work and spend time with my family. I am religious about my sleep schedule and aim to have eight to nine hours of sound sleep every night. Some days are so much more complicated than others. Once in a while, ten minutes of gentle yin yoga will have to be enough. 

More than anything, I’m thrilled just to be alive. I have experienced severe episodes that almost put me in danger. But, thanks to excellent mental health care and my family and friends, I am getting my life back on my terms. I am also developing an identity for myself that accommodates my bipolar disorder. 

But most importantly, my identity is “unapologetically me,” not “bipolar.”   

Since my diagnosis, I have worked to develop a stable, positive identity that keeps me in touch with the full range of my values, abilities, and roles, rather than focusing only on limitations placed on me by bipolar disorder. 

Here are a few steps that helped me develop and maintain a healthy sense of self:

#1 Assess yourself
I have used the CRESTBD Quality of Life Tool to identify my strengths and establish a more well-rounded sense of identity. We all have things that we struggle with, and we all have things that we are good at or areas of life in which we are flourishing – the QoL Tool can be a helpful reminder of all these facets of your identity.

#2 Allow yourself to feel
While I am more vulnerable to persistent mood states like depression or mania, I still have day-to-day or moment-to-moment emotional changes, just like everyone else. For example, I can be excited or happy without being manic or sad and frustrated without being depressed. Teaching myself and others to help tell the difference between regular changes of emotions throughout the day from mood episodes can be very important to feel supported and validated by others. Cognitive behavioral therapy helped me develop an awareness of what fluctuations in emotions are healthy and appropriate given the circumstances and promote more balanced and realistic thoughts about changes in mood state.

#3 Learn to be kind to yourself
When exploring my different characteristics, I learned to be gentle and accepting with the parts of myself that I want to change or are not in line with who I’d like to be. Being critical of myself causes unnecessary hardship. Being kind to myself gave me strength and even helped me make changes for the better. Mindfulness practice helped me identify self-judgments and practice a gentler way of relating to myself. My friends, family members, and the mental health team helped me challenge negative thoughts and develop more realistic and helpful ones.