Author: Matthew Palmieri

When I look back on my past behavior—especially during manic or depressive episodes—it’s hard not to feel shame or embarrassment. Even after some recovery and ongoing acceptance, there are moments I still cringe over.

As much as I’ve accepted the link between my behavior to symptoms of bipolar, there really is no one-size-fits-all when it comes to how mania or depression shows up.

For some of us, it’s extreme irritability, especially toward the people closest to us. For others, it can look like public outbursts, or reading too much into situations and feeling slighted by the world.

Even with a more objective, clinical understanding of these experiences, the emotional weight can linger.

Regret vs. Shame

What’s difficult for me to move on from is feelings of regret and shame, even if both are different.

Regret for me sounds like:

I wish I’d finished grad school when I had the chance. 

I wish I had narrowed my focus to a particular skill set that would have eventually landed me a high paying job. 

Maybe if I had just let my creativity breathe a bit, I would eventually achieve a sense of widespread approval. 

Shame on the other hand, whispers:

I have this condition that makes me act in ways I can’t fully control. 

There’s something deeply wrong with me that I need to hide from others. 

Then vs. Now 

It’s not all bad news, though. I look back on the pinnacle of my denial as a huge lesson.

My denial led me to my first and only 51-50—a 72 hour involuntary stay at a psychiatric hospital, which then turned into an 8 day stay, where I have vague and painful memories that float in and out. I even spent my birthday in the hospital, which happened to be my 40th. That hit really hard!

I’m grateful I went through this because it was the catalyst for change I needed. I started embracing my diagnosis and letting the world know a bit more.

However, although I first felt a sense of relief having disclosed my diagnosis to those outside of my immediate family, I began to resent the idea that my identity was based entirely around having a mental illness.

I’ve learned, there are likely other elements to my illness that others experience, but it is up to me to mitigate and manage my symptoms.

The truth is, I like myself so much more now that I’ve accepted my condition, compared to when I was in denial.

I’m learning to separate the action from my identity. The condition contributed to certain behaviors, but the lessons I’ve gained from those experiences have shaped me into a more authentic version of myself today.

Looking Back on Romantic Relationships

I’m also trying to give myself more grace in this arena. I remember telling my therapist about the irritability, which I saw as a huge factor in the crumbling of past relationships, especially during my marriage and failed relationships in my mid to late 20s, and she gently reminded me: We all get irritable.

Hearing that normalized my feelings and made me realize I wasn’t uniquely broken. I was human—managing a complex condition that sometimes took over my better judgement.

Reframing Regret

Instead of thinking, I wish I hadn’t, I’m practicing, I’m glad I did, because those choices taught me something valuable—even if it took time (and a lot of humility) to see it.

Who I am today may be flawed, but it may not necessarily be something I should always tie to my health condition, even if it is going to be something I carry to the grave.

Learning to focus on what’s ahead of me may be challenging, but I feel like my experiences have given me the insight I need to be a better person, which is all I can ask for right now.