Slow Breath, Fast Mind: Guided Breathing for Bipolar Lows

Sarah Scritch
7 days ago
3 min read

Updated: 5 days ago

Meditation.

Just the word alone sparks wildly different reactions. Some people picture monks on mountains. Others roll their eyes and say, “Yeah, I can’t get my brain to shut up,” or “I’m not into that spiritual stuff.”

Same. I never tied meditation to religion, but I did assume it meant sitting in silence trying not to think. Which, for someone with ADHD and Bipolar II, translated to: sitting quietly in a room thinking very loudly about not thinking. An endless loop of frustration. Zero relief.

Eventually, after doom-scrolling YouTube’s ocean of “relaxation” videos, I stumbled into the world of guided meditation. I tried it here and there—nothing consistent. But with my chronic insomnia (my unwanted superpower), I naturally gravitated toward sleep-focused meditations: transcendental, lucid dreaming, sleep hypnosis, bedtime storytelling. And for a little while, they worked… until they didn’t. My insomnia always catches on to tricks.

So I quit meditation for a long time.

Footprints in beach sand symbolizing grounding and guided breathing during bipolar lows. — *No breakthroughs, just breath. Sometimes grounding starts with just a few deep, focused breaths.*

The Stability Shift

This past year brought more mood stability than I’ve ever had, which gave me the space to build on my ADHD coping skills and pay attention to my physical health again.

Running has always been my first love and, honestly, my first form of meditation.Nothing beats lacing up, blasting music that hits my soul, and letting my feet sync with the beat. My playlists are curated like sacred texts—lyrics that light up my brain, voices that settle my nerves, stories that pull me out of myself. I get weird looks for lip-syncing mid-run, but whatever. That’s my self-care. Those miles are the rare moments where I’m relieved from having to live with my own brain.

Running interrupts the spiral—rumination, suicidal ideation, the static of hypomania, the emptiness of depression. When even the most gripping true-crime podcast can’t hold my attention, running still can.

So with my brain semi-steady, I turned back to meditation. My old sleep videos failed me again, but this time something new popped up: guided breathing meditation.

As a runner—and a human being with a chaotic brain—breathing guidance actually made sense.

My First Real Try

I laid down, closed my eyes, and started a simple three-minute guided breathing video. I let myself follow the voice. Yes, I got distracted. A lot. But meditation is a skill, not a personality trait.

I made a deal with myself:

5 out of 7 days, for two weeks. No judging. No comparing. Just show up.

I went from 3 minutes → 5 minutes → 7 minutes → multiple sessions. By week three, I was doing it almost daily. That was four months ago, and I’ve kept going.

The Small Wins Add Up

Starting my day with guided breathing became a small but undeniable win. Even when depression was screaming at me about how worthless I was, I couldn’t argue with the fact that I completed something gentle, something for me. It boosted my confidence without demanding perfection—and that’s rare in bipolar lows.

Now I practice 20–30 minutes most mornings. Sometimes more.

The Unexpected Side Effect

Then came the shocker.

I’d been sidelined from workouts for over a month due to an infection that killed my energy. Getting back into the gym felt impossible, but I negotiated my way into a “just 20 minutes of cardio” deal.

I got on the elliptical. Felt good. Then hopped on the treadmill.

I walked. Increased speed. Upped the incline.

Started running.

And for the first time ever… my legs got tired before my lungs did.

I wasn’t winded. Not even a little. I ran for an hour—only stopping because I literally ran out of time.

Turns out:

Those consistent guided breathing sessions were expanding my lung capacity and retraining my breathing patterns. And it wasn’t a one-time fluke. It kept happening. My speed improved. My stamina held. My breath finally matched the pace I wanted my brain to move at.

Grounding a Bipolar, ADHD Brain

Guided breathing hasn’t “cured” anything—Bipolar II doesn’t work like that.But it has helped me slow my racing thoughts, soften anxiety spikes, and reroute some of the chaos during depressive drops.

It gave me control over something when everything else felt uncontrollable.A small win. A grounding tool. A breath I could actually follow.

And honestly?

I’ve never used the words “positive side effect” about any prescription I’ve ever taken. I have, however, said the words “fatal side effect” — but that’s a story for another day.

I am working on making guided breathing meditation an even more poignant tool, so stay tuned…there’s much more to come.