Living With Bipolar Disorder in Uncertain Times
Living with bipolar disorder while the world feels like it is falling apart can feel overwhelming—sometimes even impossible. Many of us experience emotions intensely. We are deeply attuned to the feelings of others, often highly empathic, and sensitive to shifts in our environment. At times, it can feel as though we are carrying not only our own inner worlds, but the weight of the world itself.
In moments like these, it’s natural to ask difficult questions.
How do we respond when it feels like we can’t help others—or even ourselves?
How do we stay grounded when fear and grief are present in our collective experience?
How do we protect what matters most while continuing to move toward healing?
Many of us are witnessing suffering that feels close to home. We see people struggling, feeling unseen, misunderstood, or diminished because of mental health challenges. This can stir deep pain, anger, and helplessness—especially for those of us who already work hard to maintain balance and stability in our lives.
I am a therapist who lives with bipolar disorder myself. I don’t have answers to questions that may not yet have answers. What I do know is this: in times of uncertainty, turning toward love and connection matters.
Connection does not mean forcing positivity or pretending things are okay. It means holding each other close—sometimes quietly, sometimes imperfectly—especially when we feel like we may be unraveling inside. It means returning, again and again, to the daily practices and routines we have worked so hard to build: the ones that help regulate our nervous systems, nourish our bodies, and support our mental health.
It also means expressing ourselves creatively in ways that are truly our own—through writing, art, movement, music, or any form of expression that allows emotion to move rather than stay trapped inside. These practices are not luxuries; they are anchors.
If you are reading this and struggling, please know this: you are not alone. Even if we have never met, I am on your side. What you are feeling makes sense. Our emotions are not weaknesses—they are adaptive responses to danger, uncertainty, and change.
I see you.
I hear you.
I grieve with you.
I celebrate how far you’ve come.
We are living through a difficult moment, and yet we are still here. We have survived hard times before. We know how to take one step at a time, even when the path ahead feels unclear.
Keep going.
Keep choosing care, connection, and compassion—in your actions and in your heart.
Peace often begins there.
