Author: Matthew Palmieri

Bipolar disorder leaves a trail of collateral damage—during both depression and mania.

From the outside looking in, it must be confusing. It can feel like I’ve been temporarily abducted, replaced by a version of myself that has no reason, no awareness, no trace of the person my friends know in my most authentic state.

The Weight of Shame

I carry embarrassment and shame when I think back on the times I roped my friends into behaviors that pushed our relationships to the edge. Episodes demand attention, and too often, my friends got pulled into the chaos.

And yet, my truest and longest friendships have endured. That fact alone is something I’ll never stop being grateful for. Still, I often avoid talking about mental illness with friends. It isn’t about denial—it’s that these conversations can stir old pain I sometimes don’t have the energy to reopen.

Not Every Friendship Survives

The truth is, not every relationship survives. Some have collapsed under the weight of this illness. It’s hard not to blame myself. But in quieter moments, when I can accept bipolar for what it is, I practice letting go. It doesn’t erase the grief, but it helps me move forward.

A Seat at the Table

The friendships that remain bring me joy and perspective. They remind me I still belong. I still have a seat at the table.

When my therapist asks me to write gratitude lists, my friendships always come first. These bonds tether me to the person I was before bipolar took over. They remind me of my unshakable core identity—something the illness can’t erase, no matter how dark things get.

Responsibility to Myself and Others

I can’t speak for my friends, but the fact they’re still here tells me they’ve weathered the storm alongside me. That makes me feel responsible—to them and to myself—to keep showing up.

For me, that means sticking to a holistic treatment plan: regular exercise, mindful eating, consistent therapy, and the kind of sleep my brain depends on. It’s not perfect, but it’s the foundation that helps me hold steady.

Why I Keep Going

Life will always throw curveballs. There will always be challenges I can’t plan for or fix. But my friendships give me something invaluable: solace. They offer shelter from the storm, and sometimes they even turn pain into purpose.

Because if nothing else, these friendships remind me of one essential truth: I am worth sticking around for.

And that reminder alone gives me the strength to keep going.