While depression and mania anchor the disorder's map, it's the space between and beyond these poles, in the subtler psychotic terrains, where a life is being lived most fervently. These subtler, more insidious terrains come with less dramatic fluctuations and land mines that are still critical to understand.
One of the most disturbing terrains can be described as "mixed episodes." It is like the emotional counterpart of a chemical fire, with the erupting energy of mania mixed with the hollow, self-loathing, despair of depression. This is not a state of neutral balance; it is one of agonizing contradiction. One is simultaneously driven by racing, irritability and an overwhelming sense of worthlessness and crushing void. There is a manic energy, a drive to do things, but it has been hijacked by depressive cognitions. This is where the risk of suicide can be at its most horrific. The energy that you need or want to act on suicidal thoughts is gnawingly present in a way that it is not often present in pure depression, while the hopelessness that provides meaning to the act is relentless. It is a perfect storm of turmoil where the individual feels compelled to destroy themselves because they are teeming with a painful, non-functional vitality. They might pace for hours with the need to flee their own skin, their mind a vortex of self-critical thinking racing at a dizzying pace. Identifying mixed state is critical or imperative, as they will mandate different, often more interrupting, therapeutic tactics.
And we have "rapid cycling." In reality, the term is often misused. It is formally defined as having four or more distinct mood episodes (depressed, manic, or hypomanic) in one year. For those who suffer it feels like a malicious rollercoaster ride without an end, the ground never settles. Just as you begin to figure out the rules of one “country,” the borders shift, and you are sent away to a new one. The whiplash of hypomania’s expansive mood to depression’s constraining mood, in weeks or even days, is a dizzying and exhausting experience. It extinguishes any sense of self that feels continuous, predictable, or stable. The reasons for rapid cycling are complicated but often include external stressors and sometimes the unintended consequences of antidepressant medications, specifically not coupled with a mood stabilizer.
As far the formal “mood episodes,” there are also the quiet, less visible “subsyndromal” symptoms. These are the emotional residual radiation of having bipolar disorder. Even when not in a distinct episode, many individuals could still experience low-grade, chronic symptoms. This may manifest as an anxiety that softly hums and never completely settles, a mood that is fragile and susceptible to being easily “knocked off,” or a long-term loss of pleasure (anhedonia) that colors life in shades of greys rather than more vibrant colors and shades. Those subsyndromal symptoms are not acute enough to bring someone to the hospital but they take away from one’s overall quality of life.They can cause job holding to feel nearly impossible, negatively affect intimate relationships with persistent low-grade irritability, and create an overall sense of not being "quite right," even when nothing is identifiable and nothing is happening. Treating bipolar disorder effectively requires taking aim not simply at avoiding episodes, but instead seeking well-being, specifically addressing the subtle shadows lingering in the mind.
Getting to a correct diagnosis of bipolar disorder is too often a long and arduous journey filled with misdiagnoses and ineffective treatment. On average, an individual waits a painfully long time (especially if we want mental health treatment to improve their perspective) for the time between the presentation of symptoms and an accurate diagnosis of bipolar disorder to take place—usually more than 10 years. The delay is not clinical indifference, but rather relates to the chameleon-like nature of the disorder itself and the setting from which the disorder first surfaces.
The most frequent misdiagnosis is Unipolar Depression. Here is someone who arrives at their clinical context in the middle of an awful and debilitating depressive episode. They relay feeling as heavily weighted, feeling loss of interest, feeling suicidal. They are truly and in that moment, very depressed. What they don't often note as they do not come to see this as a problem is the existence of hypomania. Why would they? The time of elevated mood, unlimited energy, and amplified creativity felt good.It was as if they were acting as their "best self." They might even label the crash that followed as the product of burnout resulting from being so productive. They don't recall the prior week they lived on three hours of sleep a night writing a novel, or maxing out their credit card to support a new entrepreneurial venture, or acted on a silly whim and engaged in a series of affairs that were both intense and impulsive. To them, this was just living life to the fullest. Without a careful, probing clinical interview that directly asked about the period of heightened mood state and examined sleep, impulsivity, and grandiosity during "stable" times, the bipolar internal engine remains obscured. The clinician observes nothing but active depression and proceeds to work toward an antidepressant prescription, which may result in devastating consequences for the common bipolar II patient, including rapidly cycling episodes or moving them into destructive mixed or hypomanic states.
Other conditions that can muddle the picture include Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) that also has features of heightened lability and impulsivity. The key difference is often with BPD, the apparent mood ceases to exist and is intense and reactive and lasts from hours to days (a perceived rejection or critical comment). In the bipolar disorder, episodes last for weeks or months after stress triggers, but often exist in themselves with biochemical momentum despite the environment having changed.
Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) also commonly confuses the situation, with the restlessness, distractibility, and impulsivity closely mimicking hypomania. The key difference once again is ADHD symptoms are chronic and persistent from early childhood, versus hypomania episodes emerge on a backdrop of a different baseline mood. Untangling this is not easy and often requires a thorough developmental history, including check-ins back to school reports and other childhood behaviors.
The data will also take out the possibility of substance abuse being the primary issue. Is the paranoia or other forms of erratic behavior mania or part of cocaine use? Is lethargy and flat affect from a depressive episode, or the outcome of heavy alcohol or opioid use? The relationships are often bidirectional. Many chronically unhealthy individuals only want to "self medicate" their unbearable mood states- using depressants such as alcohol to slow a racing mind or stimulants such as cocaine that lift leaden depression, but backfire at toxic long-term habits that destabilize a person's mood- either of which take many months of sustained abstinence to determine the potential undercurrent mood disorder.
This labyrinthine situation speaks to the importance of detailed and nuanced assessment. That involves a psychiatrist who is more than a prescriber, but rather a detective, historian and deep listener with an immense amount of patience to slow down and interview a person. The interviewing process is only part of the assessment moving forward. The psychiatrist should, after obtaining agreement, include collateral history from family members or close friends, who may have observed the longitudinal nature of the person's moods or behaviors. The goal is, at minimum, to build a timeline on the map of their internal weather over the years, and not just a snapshot of today's storm.
When bipolar disorder is reduced into a simple list of diagnosis, the entire human experience is lost. The true impact is borne in the stillness of private life interrupted, in the erosion of personhood and fractured relationships that emerge from illness.
Think about the vast sadness of lost self. When a person receives a diagnosis, they often find themselves in a stage of mourning for a person they thought they were. The moments of creative brilliance during hypomania become re-framed in retrospect—not as evidence of personal genius—but as symptoms of an illness. The profound experiences of connectedness and empathy and emotionality during times of stability become superficially evaluated: Is that real, or was I in a "good phase?" This identity crisis is commonly referred to as "Where does the illness end, and where do I end?" and it is an injury in need of healing. The process of reconstructing a stable identity involves layering the diagnosis into a life narrative, without allowing it to become the only story. It is a difficult process of acknowledging that this storm, although certainly part of the person, does not solely define the person; the person is also the shore that endures the storm.
There is generally a significant amount of collateral damage, which usually translates into sources of profound and persistent shame. The monologue of the manic episode plays like a horrific movie in their memory: the hurtful, grandiose things they say to loved ones; the financial ruination from a shopping spree; the professional bridges burned with an impulsive, angry email.In a state of depression, shame originates from a different source: the sadness of disappointing a child on their birthday; the unwashed laundry and unopened bills; the weakness of the inability to simply snap out of it. Shame is a damaging block to recovery. It reinforces isolation: fear of saying what is really going on to a doctor out of fear of judgment; fear of contacting friends to talk, thinking it is an imposition.
The impact on relationships is likely the most hurtful. Partners turn into de facto caretakers, faced with the enormity of navigating a loved one who can at times be light and engaging, another time can be critical and irritable, and another time can be completely withdrawn in a catatonic state. They learn to walk on eggshells, constantly assessing the impending signs of a new episode. The relational whiplash is fatiguing. A partner who is not afflicted can feel lonely and resentful, mourning the loss of an equal partnership. Children are particularly at risk and confused by the unpredictable behavior of a parent who can be a vibrant and fun loving playmate one moment and a distant, irritable stranger the next; they internalize blame believing it is their fault that the parent is disengaged or angry. This is why family therapy is not an extravagance, but vitally important to the health of the entire family system, serving to educate, to mourn, to express fears, and to come together to rebuild trust.
The professional world presents another minefield. The paralyzing fear of stigma around depression. Do you say anything about your diagnosis to an employer?The Americans with Disabilities Act provides important protections in the workplace, but it cannot provide protection from the many subtle biases and unspoken judgments of co-workers and managers. Performance variability can be a significant problem. For instance, a hypomanic employee might be a productive tornado in one week—producing a month's worth of work—but may be in a depressive episode the next week and unable to meet basic deadlines. Without understanding and reasonable accommodation (e.g., different hours during "down" times or a less stimulating environment) to deal with variability, a promising career could be almost deliberately derailed.
Medication will often provide an important biochemical framework, but learning to live well with a bipolar disorder is an art that is based on mastering thousands of small daily practices and moments of psychological change. Recovery is about all of those small moments that exist between psychiatric visits.
The therapeutic work is well beyond "traditional" cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) as described above. A very important "skill" is learning what might be called "metacognitive awareness," or the ability to step back and see one's own thinking and moods as simply momentary mental activities rather than truths. That is the difference between thinking, "I am a piece of garbage" and just noticing, "I am having the thought that I am a piece of garbage." This small shift in psychological thinking can create an important space for choice, fragmentation, or breathing room between the thought and one's action.In hypomania, it’s the capacity to catch the very first spark of grandiosity—"I have a genius idea that's going to make me a millionaire!"—and even put a mental post-it note on it: "This could be a symptom, I will hang on to this for 48 hours and talk to my therapist about it before I do anything." This is not easy; it's a bit of mental muscle that must be constructed through relentless practice like mediation or mindfulness.
Managing creativity is a particularly fine dance. Many people with bipolar disorder fear that when they go on medication, it will dull their creative edge, it will dull the very parts of them that make their contributions unique, especially in the arts, sciences and entrepreneurial spaces. This is a serious and valid fear. The boiler fires of associative thinking under hypomania may feel like the source of all inspiration. The key, which many successful individuals with bipolar disorder learn to do, is to restructure their expansive thinking to accommodate for the content, while containing the context of the mood state. They learn to utilize the stable, productive energy of the euthymic state to execute on those ideas that were born in hypomania. During elevated times, they keep "idea notebooks" and follow a rigid rule that they do not act on them until they have been vetted during the stable period. The goal is not to extinguish the creative fire, but rather make a hearth around it, so that it gives warmth to the home rather than burning it down.The idea of "wellness tools" turns into a personally relevant and highly individualized toolkit. Outside of sleep, exercise, and diet, wellness tools may include:
Light management: if you have a seasonal pattern, light management can be an important wellness tool. Adjusting light exposure by using dawn simulators, and avoiding blue light at night can make a difference, and it is sometimes appropriate to use light therapy boxes with the guidance of a psychiatrist.
Stimulus control: learning to recognize and stay away from overstimulating environments can be beneficial. For an individual with a mixed state description, a crowded, noisy party may be a heavy stimulus that creates anxiety and irritability, while for someone with a manic disorder's description, it might liberate them to feel disinhibited and impulsive.
Radical acceptance practice: concept from Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT) meaning the focus on fully accepting reality as it is. Accepting that you have a chronic condition that cannot be cured can feel heavy. Fighting a reality is dwelling on the unfairness of a reality establishes more suffering. Radical acceptance does not mean passivity, it is a starting point for empowered action. It becomes the belief of "This is my situation. I don't like it, and I didn't choose it, but fighting this fact is tiring and unproductive. From the place of acceptance, I can now make smart choices all around how to manage this."
The role of the therapist shifts from a machine teaching skills, to a trusted co-navigator in the individual's path. The therapist helps the individual decode their specific "relapse signature" which is the specific, and highly personal early warning signals for an oncoming episode.For one individual, it could be a late-night, near-completely disorganized bookshelf suddenly sorted by color at 2:00 a.m. For another, it could be a mild auditory hypersensitivity to an auditory experience where ordinary sounds become intolerably acute and tiresome. Or for a third person, the belief that strangers are making important eye contact with them on the subway. Catching the episode at the "prodromal" stage is a prize-worthy goal of management because it frequently allows for intervention—a medication change, a incredibly transition of therapy, a mindful decision to simply do less—that can stop the hurricane before it makes landfall.
Even with forward momentum, many people still assimilate bipolar disorder to being "moody" and even more so, use it casually as a derogatory statement ("The weather is so bipolar today"). In addition, the media often sensationalizes the manic phase and rights pressure to the most extreme outliers of their experience rather than simply removing the manic phase or fever of the manic experience; when in reality, depression is often the arduous work of recovery.
There are two folds of stigma. There is the social stigma of the fear of being perceived as unpredictable (incompetent) and then there is the internalized stigma. For some, the internalized stigma is much more damaging because the person takes in social beliefs about being bad and they become negative towards themselves.Individuals can become their harshest critic, labeling themselves as "broken" or a "burden." This can be very difficult to fight through but reframing the narrative requires practice. This might mean studying the many amazing, accomplished and resilient individuals throughout history who are presumed to have experienced life with bipolar disorder - for example, Vincent Van Gogh, Robert Schumann, Virginia Woolf. These stories embody much more than just suffering, they reference the enormous depth of human experience which, if supported properly, can be translated into incredible creativity and insight.
The future for bipolar treatment will be about specificity. The area of pharmacogenetics is very promising, using genetic testing to determine which medicines a person is most likely to respond to, thus reducing the painful means of trial-and-error. Neurostimulus therapies such as Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation (TMS) and Electroconvulsive Therapy (ECT), much different than the previous horrendous "shock therapy", are offerings for treatment resistant depression. A new understanding around the gut-brain axis and inflammation is expanding our thinking about the biological basis of mood disorders.
Perhaps a more profound transformation needed is a cultural change. A shift from awareness to acceptance. Awareness is knowing clinical facts while acceptance is creating a world that allows a person living with bipolar disorder to openly discuss needing flexible hours with their employer, to inform a new romantic partner about their diagnosis without fear of rejection, to sit in a doctor's office and be seen as whole and not a collection of symptoms, deserving dignity and capable of a rich, complex and beautiful life - even with storms.
After all, this journey is proof of the human spirit's resilience. It's the journey of taming a ship in the unpredictable sea. The ship may be uniquely shaped, limited toward catching wind in roughness or taking on water in certain storms. The captain cannot control the ocean or weather, that is a given. What they can learn is how to read the stars (self-awareness), maintain their ship (medication and health), chart a supportive course (therapy and lifestyle), and call for help when necessary (support systems). They learn there is no goal to find a port where the sea is always calm that is not possible. The goal is to become a courageous, skilled navigator who can sail in any weather, and who can find peace and purpose in the open open sea.