Author: Charles Kelly

Before my manic episode, I was completely unaware of how I came off to others. My ego controlled every part of my life. If something did not go my way, I would defend my position, even when I knew I was wrong. Classmates, coworkers, and even strangers felt like obstacles standing between me and my goals. I never considered anyone else because, in my mind, life was about making myself happy. It was never about what I needed to do; it was about chasing recognition, validation, and a sense of superiority.

Social media fed this mindset. Everywhere I looked, I saw messages telling me to work harder, sacrifice sleep, and push through exhaustion as if success was just about willpower. I became obsessed with this pursuit, staying up until 5 a.m., running on empty, and convincing myself that I was on the right path. I never stopped to consider the people around me. If someone else made a mistake, I saw it as proof that I was better. I told myself I was the one cleaning up after others because I was just that good. Over time, these thoughts built up inside me. I compared myself to everyone I met, seeking validation in the smallest ways. It never occurred to me that I was living for an illusion, not for my true self. I told myself I was chasing success for my family, for my career, for something bigger than myself. But when everything finally came crashing down, I realized I had only been chasing it for my ego.

Rebuilding from Rock Bottom

Fixing my bad habits after my manic episode was not easy, but it was possible. The first step was recognizing the false narrative I had created. I was 24 years old and had not yet graduated college, but instead of paying attention in class, I spent my time playing solitaire. I convinced myself that I was above my classmates, that I could not learn anything from these “irrelevant” courses, and that I should have already been graduated. I failed to see the reality in front of me:

• Some of my classmates were working three jobs just to afford school.
• A 50-year-old classmate was taking in every lesson, appreciating the chance to learn.
• There were friendships I could have made if I had been present instead of lost in my own head.

Instead of facing these truths, I had built a wall of excuses. I told myself that I was struggling because of my manic episode and the medication. I believed that my grades suffered because teachers were biased. Every time reality tried to break through, my ego would spin it another way to justify my actions. I finally stopped hiding behind my own words and looked in the mirror. It was uncomfortable at first, my mind fought to defend the story I had been telling myself. I wanted to believe that my struggles were not my fault although, overtime I began challenging my inner monologue. I realized that I was in college because I had not put in the work. I did not get an A because I refused to use the resources available to me. The answers were right in front of me, but when someone is full of pride, change feels impossible.

Finding the truth was like trying to look through a fogged-up mirror. Every time I got close, the fog would rise again. But I kept trying. I started journaling, writing down my thoughts honestly for the first time. I freed myself from the resistance that had held me back for so long. That resistance was everywhere. When my professor asked me to participate in class, my thoughts told me I did not belong, so why even try? When someone else got a better grade, I immediately assumed the teacher was playing favorites. My mind was working against me, creating barriers to growth. But life is not set up to make people fail. It is set up to challenge, teach, and push people to evolve.

Choosing Growth

After my manic episode, I saw things more clearly. I had spent years seeking the approval of others. I had let my ego dictate my decisions. But most importantly, I realized I could change. I had believed that doctors and therapists were against me when they were trying to help. I stopped fighting the people who cared about me. I listened to their advice and stopped sabotaging my life. Therapy became a space for honesty. Not because my family wanted it, not because my doctors recommended it, but because I wanted to change. I started journaling regularly so I could track my progress, allowing me to bring real concerns to my therapist instead of getting lost in vague emotions. Slowly, my mindset shifted.

Now, when a coworker needs help, I do not see it to prove how great I am. I see how my actions can give them more time with their family and relieve some stress. I stopped thinking that life was about climbing to the top alone and started seeing the value in helping others. I also noticed the impact of my words and actions. Instead of only talking about my own achievements, I started asking coworkers about their weekends, their families, and their interests. I saw how small changes in my behavior made others feel valued.

There is a passage in Tuesdays with Morrie that captures this lesson perfectly. It says that sometimes, you must metaphorically die a little to understand how you should be living. That resonated with me. I had been so wrapped up in proving myself that I was missing out on life itself. Today, I am grateful for that realization. I am aware of my ego and no longer allow it to control me. I do not feel constant resistance in my work and personal life. Instead of seeing everything as a competition, I see life as an opportunity to connect, learn, and grow.

Change is possible. No matter how stuck a person feels, no matter how much resistance they face, there is always a way forward. The hardest part is breaking the old patterns, but once that process begins, everything starts to shift. True strength comes from being willing to challenge your own thoughts, to admit when you are wrong, and to embrace the process of growth. The road will never be perfect, and setbacks will happen, but every small victory counts.

Life is not about chasing validation. It is about becoming the person you are meant to be.

The content of the International Bipolar Foundation blogs is for informational purposes only. The content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician and never disregard professional medical advice because of something you have read in any IBPF content.