Bipolar: When You Feel Glaringly Visible and Completely Invisible at the Same Time

Having Bipolar, ADHD, Depression, Anxiety—any mental illness, for that matter—can feel incredibly ostracizing. Even when I’m surrounded by my closest friends, I can feel almost like a foreigner. As they share their struggles and similar experiences, I can’t help but feel deeply sad and alone, knowing that my experience will never be one they truly understand.

As if I didn’t already feel like enough of an outsider in the real world, now—in what should be the safest space—I’m harshly reminded that I’m starkly different from the masses and that my experience isn’t one that fits into the conversation. Literally invisible in front of a group of close friends. Just putting on a smiling face to get through the night and make everyone but me comfortable.

They’re going to work, picking up nieces and nephews, planning concerts.I’m going to treatment, planning my day after treatment because I’ll be too tired to leave the house, going to my psychiatrist, case management, psychologist, praying I’m not too depressed to get out of bed, and so on.

“This is just for now,” people keep saying.

Well, how long is “for now” supposed to last? Because it’s getting really fucking old, and Bipolar and Depression are pretty fucking lonely. While they’re talking about wishing for the latest handbag, I’m praying to God that I get more than four hours of sleep.

To be honest, sometimes I can’t handle dinners because I’m too tired to put on a decent face. I know the “normal” talk will be too much for me to handle. And it’s not malicious—they don’t know. I’ve never said anything because I feel selfish and ashamed.

I do know, though, that I’m not alone. And that’s why I keep writing. I know there are plenty of Bipolar, ADHD, Depression, Anxiety, Mood Disorder—etc.—warriors out there fighting this battle right alongside me. And for that, I know it’s worth it to keep on typing.

Glaringly visible and completely invisible.