Bipolar Disorder: Lived Experiences and What Everyone Should Know

On 30th March, we celebrate World Bipolar Day. I took this opportunity to speak with a friend who has been living with bipolar disorder for many years. This was a very personal interview that I am excited to share, not just because I relate to their experience, but also because I have witnessed it firsthand.

Navigating the world of mental health is never simple. Beyond managing the experience itself, you also have to deal with what others throw at you, the questioning, the minimization, the unsolicited opinions. And because language shapes how we understand, validate, and communicate our experiences, even the words we use to define mental health — whether it is called a disorder, an illness, or a challenge — become yet another layer of complexity.

If you have never faced mental health challenges, I can tell you: it is really hard. I started experiencing symptoms at 11 or 12, but I felt completely alone because no one around me talked about mental health in an objective way. I did not want to be labelled “crazy,” so I developed whatever tools I could to get through it without people noticing. Then, as you grow up, you realize the techniques you developed are not exactly healthy, nor are they helping you address the issue head-on.

My friend and I started treatment around the same time, sharing much of our journey — me with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), her with Bipolar Disorder. During our conversation, she said something that stuck with me. I will not take away from her words (you will see them below), but at its core, it was this: when our mental health is at its most unstable, we are the only ones who can truly pull ourselves out. There comes a point when you stop feeling sorry for yourself, stop going to therapy for someone else, and let go of your own stigma because you know that avoiding it will only make things worse. And this is something we say in so many areas of life – you cannot change someone else. You cannot help people forever. You cannot always be there. There will be moments when we are completely on our own, and we need to know how to sit with ourselves, recognize our limits, and say, "I cannot handle this right now."

I share this interview with pride. Looking back, I think we have done incredibly well, not just in getting through the awful moments, but in allowing skilled professionals to help us. What I want people to know is this: experiencing severe symptoms does not make you crazy. Therapy does not make you crazy. Having a diagnosis does not make you crazy. Taking medication does not make you crazy. What is crazy to me is that in 2025, we still do not know how to talk about mental health. Our mental health services are still not prioritised. People still rely on what they are told instead of doing their own research. That, to me, is what is crazy. That, my friend and I, are not.

Without further ado, please enjoy the interview below.

Yasmin: Tell me about your journey before receiving your diagnosis. What were some of the symptoms you experienced, and what led you to seek help? Was there a particular moment that made you realize something was wrong?

Interviewee: The main trigger was stress at work. As my stress increased, I started waking up in the middle of the night to write notes about all my responsibilities. The list kept growing, and eventually, I spoke to my manager about it. She suggested I take time off, but I did not call in sick, I went to work the next day. My sleep continued to worsen until I started experiencing delusional thoughts. I became convinced that my mum had autism and that my family had been keeping it a secret from me.

My insomnia became extreme. One Sunday night, I barely slept at all. The next morning, my dad drove me to the GP, where I was seen first thing. In the GP’s office, I was acting very erratically — dancing, laughing, and weighing myself as if I was having the time of my life. The GP referred me to the crisis team and noted ‘bipolar?’ in his referral. He turned out to be right, but it took months for me to receive a formal diagnosis.

By the time I saw a psychiatrist, I had already recovered from the manic episode because the GP had prescribed olanzapine. I was no longer manic, but I was extremely anxious. The psychiatrist wanted to start me on lithium, and I was so overwhelmed by the discussion that I fainted in his office. He left to get help, and when he returned, I had a seizure and lost consciousness. When I came around, the first thing I asked was, "Am I okay to go back to work today?" He said yes, but I obviously did not go back that day.

They rebooked my appointment with the same psychiatrist a few months later, but by the time that appointment came, I had relapsed. One of the listed side effects of my medication was sudden unexplained death, and I was terrified, so I stopped taking it. That led to another manic episode, much more severe than the first. This time, my dad took me straight to the GP again, but instead of referring me to secondary mental health services, they sent me directly to the crisis team. I was eventually seen by a psychiatrist at home, who formally diagnosed me with bipolar disorder. My first manic episode was in December 2015, and my second was in October 2016. I received my diagnosis in less than a year, which I know is very fortunate.

Yasmin: When you first heard the words ‘bipolar disorder,’ how did that feel? Did the diagnosis make sense to you at the time?

Interviewee: At the time, I was still manic, so I could not fully process it. I did not understand why people spoke about it as if it was this devastating diagnosis. To me, it felt amazing, like untapped potential. But I also remember being scared because of the stigma surrounding bipolar disorder. I worried that people would assume I was dangerous or unstable. I started hiding razors and bleach in the house, giving them to my mum for safekeeping.

During one manic episode, I was dancing on my bed while brushing my teeth with the window wide open. Even in that state, I had a moment of clarity; I thought, "I need to close the window. If I fall, people will assume it was suicide." Even while manic, I was desperate to prove that I was not out of control.

Yasmin: That kind of awareness in the midst of a manic episode is incredible. After your diagnosis and treatment, how did you handle disclosing your condition at work?

Interviewee: At first, I told my colleagues when I was manic, so by the time I returned to work in the NHS, everyone already knew. Occupational health gave me reduced responsibilities to help me cope. That was in 2016.

When I changed jobs in 2019, I decided not to tell anyone. I wanted a fresh start and to make a good first impression. I disclosed my diagnosis to HR but waited about a year and a half before telling my manager. Since then, I have always informed HR but do not always disclose it to my manager unless it becomes relevant.

At my current job, HR knows, and the managing director knows me personally, so she is aware of my diagnosis, but I have not told my manager. The main reason is that I no longer need accommodations beyond a reasonable workload. The second reason is stigma. When I was at the NHS, I was put forward for a promotion, but I never got it. I genuinely believe that having a mental health condition and being on reduced responsibilities affects career progression. No one will ever say that is the reason, but if an employer sees you as someone who needs accommodations, they may hesitate to offer you leadership roles.

Yasmin: Knowing that, did it ever make you push yourself beyond your limit to prove yourself, or have you learned to respect your boundaries?

Interviewee: I have definitely gotten better at recognizing my limits and saying no. And when I say no, it is not because I have bipolar, it is because I am human.

When I worked in the NHS, I said yes to everything. It was only after my diagnosis, with the backing of occupational health, that I felt strong enough to say no. Now, I can set boundaries without feeling guilty. If something is too much, I say, "I will get to it next week." I no longer stay late to finish work that should never have been put on one person.

Yasmin: That makes so much sense. I have seen how little effort is put into understanding mental health in general. But at work, many people assume that if we set boundaries, it must be because of our mental health, when in reality, we want basic human dignity. Employers and colleagues are the ones making assumptions, not us.

Interviewee: Exactly. Another change I made is that I am very open about my diagnosis on Facebook and Instagram, so I do not add colleagues on social media right away. I wait until I have told them myself. I do have them on LinkedIn, but I do not talk about my diagnosis.

Also, as I have gotten older, I do not feel the need to make close friendships at work. I enjoy chatting with my colleagues and going to work socials, but I do not need to see them outside of that. When I worked in the NHS, I built strong friendships because we went through a lot together. But now, I prefer to keep work and personal life separate.

Yasmin: That is so true. When we are younger, we think we have to be best friends with our colleagues. But realizing that workplace friendships are a bonus, not a necessity, is such a relief.

Yasmin: What are some common misconceptions you have heard about bipolar disorder?

Interviewee: A big one is that bipolar is just extreme mood swings, being happy one day and sad the next. People do not realize that bipolar often comes with psychosis, delusions, and intrusive thoughts.

Another misconception is that depression always looks like lying in bed all day. In my case, I still go to work, take care of my daughter, and cook dinner, but it takes so much more effort. People also say, "You do not seem like you have bipolar." But that is because they expect people with bipolar to be dysfunctional. Even when people say to me, “I would never have guessed you are bipolar,” I think to myself that they need to educate themselves. There are plenty of people with bipolar disorder who lead full and fulfilling lives.

Yasmin: I want to get your thoughts on something. Former Prime Minister Tony Blair recently said: "Life has its ups and downs, and everybody experiences those. We need to be careful about encouraging people to think they have a condition instead of simply confronting life’s challenges. We cannot afford to keep spending this much on mental health."

What do you think of this?

Interviewee: I think it is sad. Yes, life has challenges, but some people need medication and therapy to navigate them. Without proper support, people cannot function. Dismissing mental health as just ‘life’s ups and downs’ is harmful and uninformed.

Yasmin: If someone reading this is experiencing similar symptoms, knows someone who is, or has recently received a bipolar diagnosis, what key message or piece of advice would you want them to hear?

Interviewee: I would say that when I was first diagnosed, the most important thing for me was attending bipolar support groups. Meeting others with bipolar disorder helped me realize I was not alone, there were people who had similar thoughts, experienced the same highs and lows, and went through mania and psychosis.

At the beginning, support groups were key, and then, once I was well enough, therapy became invaluable. It can be hard to engage with therapy until medication is stabilized; if you are very depressed or manic, it is difficult to fully benefit from it.

I also came to understand that no one else could take care of my mental health for me, not my husband, not my sister. No one knows me as well as I do. At some point, you have to take charge of your own mental health journey. You are the driver of the car. While it is important to listen to doctors, family, and friends, ultimately, you have to take ownership and say, ‘I am going to get through this.’

Living with bipolar disorder comes with challenges, but as this conversation highlights, it is also possible to lead a fulfilling life with the right support, education, and self-awareness. Seeking community, accessing therapy when ready, and taking an active role in one’s mental health journey can make a real difference. Ultimately, as the interviewee puts it, "You are the driver of the car", and while guidance from professionals, family, and friends is valuable, embracing personal responsibility and resilience is key to moving forward.