Mania doesn’t always arrive like a storm—it can sneak in with sleepless nights, unstoppable ideas, and a to-do list that spans the next six months. In this honest (and slightly hilarious) post, I break down the early signs I’ve learned to recognize before a manic episode hits, and how I manage to soften the landing when it does.
Stability is supposed to be the goal—but what if it just feels like… nothing? This honest (and sarcastic) take on bipolar plateaus explores the awkward, foggy middle ground between highs and lows. No drama, no breakdowns—just you, a to-do list, and the subtle art of not spiraling. It’s not flashy, but it matters.
On the darkest days, when everything feels too heavy and you want to disappear, this letter is a reminder: you are not broken, you are not alone, and you are needed. Written from one self to another, it offers compassion, grounding, and hope—one breath at a time.
Not all victories are loud. This heartfelt post explores the quiet wins that come with living with bipolar disorder—why they matter, how to honor them, and why they shape the strongest warriors.
Struggling with bipolar disorder doesn’t mean you’re broken. This personal story explores healing, self-acceptance, and the power of living unapologetically as your whole self.
IntroductionLiving with bipolar disorder means learning to read the subtle signs your brain and body give you before a shift. Over the years, I’ve become more attuned to the early warning signs of a depressive episode. Catching it early doesn’t always stop it, but it gives me a better shot at softening the impact. Please…
Some mornings feel impossible — like my body is made of lead and my thoughts are too loud to bear. On days when getting out of bed feels like climbing a mountain, I turn to a few small truths. They’re not magical fixes, but they help me take that first step — or at least believe it’s possible.
In this post, I share 10 gentle things I tell myself on the hardest mornings. From reminding myself that rest is allowed, to finding strength in the smallest actions, this is the inner dialogue that helps me face the day — even when I can’t quite leave the covers yet.
When bipolar disorder makes everything feel too loud, too slow, or too heavy, I don’t reach for grand solutions—I reach for small things. A made bed. A sip of water. One kind thought. This post shares the quiet rituals that help me hold onto hope—not because they fix everything, but because they remind me I’m still here, and that still matters.
“Mania doesn’t always look like illness—it can look like energy, joy, or brilliance. But underneath, it can be exhausting, risky, and isolating. This post is for the people who love us through the high: how to spot the signs, offer support, and stay connected without shame or fear.”
“There’s no manual for parenting—especially not for parenting with bipolar disorder. For years I felt like I was failing at both. But through tears, trials, and small wins that mattered more than I ever knew, I kept showing up. This is the story of how I’m still showing up—imperfect, honest, and full of love.”