Bipolar depression isn’t just sadness — sometimes it’s rage, exhaustion, and a fight you can’t explain. After years of meds, TMS, therapy, and sleepless nights, I’m finally stable enough to talk about the side of bipolar depression no one warns you about: the anger. If you’re feeling it too, you’re not alone.

Covid created endless idle time but zero inspiration. Living with Bipolar II and ADHD, I had to relearn patience, self-compassion, and tiny routines to stay grounded.

COVID isolation hit hard — physically and mentally. Bipolar depression and anxiety thrived in the silence, but I found a few ways to stay afloat. If you’re struggling too, you’re not alone.

Insomnia and hypomania tag-teamed my life in the worst way — ten days of almost no sleep, racing thoughts, and the kind of despair that makes tomorrow feel impossible. This is what it looked like, and how I pulled myself back before the spiral took me out.

A day after a ketamine treatment, my mood flipped every two hours — despair, okay, hopeless, okay again. Bipolar depression can feel like the worst roller coaster ride imaginable, and this week reminded me just how fast it can drop. Here’s how I navigated the slump, medication changes, and finding a bit of stability again.

Having Bipolar, ADHD, and Depression can make you feel like you’re standing in the middle of a crowded room but completely invisible. This post dives into that raw, lonely in-between.

For the first time in my life, ketamine therapy gave me a glimpse of real stability. After years of masking bipolar II, ADHD, and treatment-resistant depression with whatever I could find just to survive, I’m finally beginning to understand the beasts that have been living inside me all along.

Treatment-resistant depression is brutal, but after eight days since my last treatment, I finally felt a stretch of real stability. Sleep returned, mood leveled, and for once, the Wild Wild West of my brain quieted just enough to feel like I could breathe again.

Depression doesn’t always look like collapse. Sometimes it looks like functioning until you can’t anymore. This is my story — and why asking for help shouldn’t require a crisis.

A brutal week without sleep pushed me right back to a familiar truth: sometimes survival means surrendering control and letting Lithium take the wheel. As I wait for my next ketamine treatment, I’m hanging on by a thread — honest, scared, and doing everything I can to stay alive until relief shows up.

Ketamine Round 4 cracked me open in ways I didn’t expect — a longer lift from bipolar depression, a deeper emotional unraveling, and a reminder of how quickly sleep deprivation can push me toward the edge. This is what the k-hole really looks like when you’re fighting to stay alive.

Round three of my ketamine treatments brought a higher dose, a Fear-and-Loathing level haze, and a longer stretch of relief from bipolar depression. The calm didn’t last forever, but it lasted long enough to give me hope.

Bipolar depression and treatment-resistant depression teaches you not to trust progress unless it’s loud. But what if the quiet moments count more? No fireworks. No epiphany. Just… relief that actually stayed longer this time.

By the time you’re labeled “treatment-resistant,” doctors say it like you’re a malfunctioning appliance. I’d tried the antidepressants, the mood stabilizers, the therapy worksheets, the lifestyle hacks. Nothing stuck. So there I was — sitting in a recliner snorting ketamine. Special K for the clinically exhausted.

A mental health diagnosis can feel like a punch to your self-esteem, but it doesn’t define your worth. Here’s how I learned to separate my identity from bipolar, ADHD, and depression — and the practical tools that help me move forward with grit, clarity, and compassion.

A raw, honest look at how exercise fits into the reality of depression. Running isn’t a cure, but sometimes it cuts through the mental chaos long enough to feel a moment of peace.

People think anxiety is fear of something. But mine is fear of feeling fear. It’s like being allergic to your own nervous system. And somehow, knowing it’s irrational doesn’t stop it — it just makes me anxious and annoyed at myself for being anxious. Truly an elite skill set.

Learning to recognize my bipolar cues didn’t make the cycles disappear, but it helped me understand what was happening instead of blaming myself. Here are the signs I watch for and how they help me show myself more grace during mood swings.

A raw and honest look at what it feels like to be present but not really here — a gritty reflection on depression, dissociation, and the terrifying ease of disappearing inside your own life.

A raw look into the mental fight behind insomnia, loneliness, and feeling misunderstood. This post explores the nightly war nobody sees — and the quiet hope that one day, things will finally shift.