The first time I heard about someone having bipolar disorder was my first boyfriend, Manny. Manny and I had an attraction to each other like no other. He was the only boyfriend I ever considered marrying. Manny and I would get into somewhat explosive fights sometimes, I’d end up in a pool of tears that would run down my face nonstop. One day, he told me, I’m acting like this because I’m bipolar. In our three year relationship, that was the one and only time it was mentioned. He never brought it up and frankly I was scared to ask. What did it mean that he was bipolar? I was 19 years old. When I told my sister about this after we broke up, she said, well maybe it’s for the best. You don’t want to be with someone who is bipolar anyways. He would be unpredictable, and how would you raise a family like that? I wanted to agree with her but knew that the truth was that I would love him no matter what.

When my mom brought me to my psychiatrist’s office for the first time, it was August of 2020 and I was 22 years old. My state of being was so poor that I was in a constant state of paranoia. This was also during the pandemic so I felt like everyone and anything could get me sick. I’d spoken to three different psychiatrists by that point, each brushed me off with an anxiety or depression diagnosis. I knew that wasnt what I had. I had psychosis in Bangkok in July of 2020. I felt vibrations coming from the walls of my hotel room. I knew that whatever I had wasn’t depression or anxiety, but I had no idea what it was. On this sunny day in August in Los Angeles, I spoke to this 88-year-old, tiny, 5 feet tall Russian lady who stared at me and pursed her lips after my mom described what the past year looked like. She asked my mom to leave the room, asked me a few questions, and diagnosed me with Bipolar Type 1. The whole process took 5 minutes. My first feelings were fear, remorse, followed by a sliver of relief that I could finally put a name to this suffering. My psychiatrist said, don’t worry. We will get you on medicine and you will be okay. One of my first thoughts were, who will ever love me again? No one is going to want to be with me. Just like my sister warned me to keep apart from Manny. 

Being bipolar is one of my deepest secrets that only my close circle knows about. I feared ever telling a man, knowing he would run away as fast as he could. There’s so many people out there, why be with someone crazy? My sister gets mad when I call myself crazy. She says I’m more sane than most people that she knows. The same sister who told me not to date my first bipolar boyfriend actually ended up being one of my biggest supporters.

The first man I told was Troy. I was nervous, even hiding my medication at first, but he quickly saw through it and said, “Are you bipolar? I am too.” Instead of fear, I felt understood. At one point, when I lost my medication on a trip, he shared his with me without hesitation. After him, I started to believe maybe I’d only ever be with someone who was bipolar. Later, I told Martin, someone I was seeing casually. Lying awake one night, I blurted it out, “I’m bipolar.” He responded, “Me too.” I felt an immediate sense of relief, like a weight had lifted, even though I knew from the start he wasn’t someone I’d build a future with.

The first man I dated who was not bipolar was Henry. I put off telling him for as long as I could. He was so sweet and accepting, but I still feared it. I told him one night over the phone, and he was completely calm and cool as a cucumber about it. Henry actually became my daily meds check, morning and evening, did you take your meds? 

Henry loves me unconditionally for who I am, all of me, not just my dark sides. He doesn’t shy away from my mood episodes, where I spend 8 hours crying in one day. He supports me, he listens. He strongly encouraged me to get sober, always telling me how detrimental weed was for my mental health, and he was right.

I’m 28 years old now, and if anyone is reading this, wondering if they will ever be loved again because of this debilitating mental illness called bipolar disorder, you will be. It is possible. It is possible to be in love and be bipolar. It is possible to have nourishing friendships and be bipolar. I lost 10 friendships in 3 years during my worst bipolar episodes. The people who stuck around could see that my episodes weren’t who I really was. You just have to find the right people and show up as the best version of yourself as often as you can.