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COVID Isolation & Coping With Bipolar Depression

Updated: Jan 6


Street mural of masked workers in hazmat suits disinfecting surfaces, symbolizing the emotional weight and isolation of the COVID pandemic.
A mural depicting masked workers sanitizing during COVID, used to illustrate the emotional impact of isolation and mood cycling during the pandemic.

I’m back. Sorry for the hiatus. Let’s just say: Physically imposed isolation × Mentally imposed isolation = FU.


Anyone living with bipolar depression, anxiety, mood cycling, hypomania, or any messy combination of the above has probably felt this pandemic in a way most people can’t see. COVID didn’t just disrupt routines; it weaponized isolation. For a disorder that feeds on loneliness, uncertainty, and stillness, COVID was basically an all-you-can-eat buffet.


The world shut down. Social connection became a threat. Every day felt like a loop of: Isolate. Worry. Repeat.


And my bipolar depression? It loved that. I’m trying my hardest not to let it take over but some days it’s a full-time job.


Still, a few things have actually helped:


  • Scheduled walks or backyard hangouts. Safe distance, real connection.

  • Something on the calendar — anything. A tiny plan can anchor a whole day.

  • Movement outside. I know: when depression hits, even standing up feels Olympic. But if you can step outside for 60 seconds, you’ve already done something.

  • Real-life interaction > video chat. Zoom fatigue is real. Don’t feel guilty about hating it.

  • Radical self-kindness. Truly. Some days you’ll have nothing to give. Let that be okay.


If you’re struggling, you’re not alone. Reach out to people you trust, even if all you can manage is a text. None of us were meant to live through a global crisis alone, especially not with a brain that already likes to fight us in the dark. We get through this by sticking together, one small connection at a time.

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© 2025 by Sarah Scritch  |

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*DisclaimerThese words come from my life, not from any medical authority. Nothing here is advice. I’m not a professional—just someone trying to survive a brain that doesn’t play by the rules and a system that often makes things harder. I share these truths in the hope that they help you feel seen, understood, and a little less alone.

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