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.

After my sixth Ketamine treatment, something unexpected shifted — not just my depression, but the explosive rage episodes tied to bipolar disorder. This is the small but meaningful relief I didn’t see coming.

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.

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.

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.