I am, I have.

Bipolar Blog Posts, Bipolar Disorder, Blog, Mental Health, Personal reflection /

Do you say I am bipolar, or I have bipolar.

How often do you have to say this? I don’t find that it comes up often enough to worry about it much. Unless we are talking about how we internally think about our disorder, in which case, I think about it constantly. I understand the comparison: people don’t say “I am diabetes,” but they do say “I am diabetic”; they don’t say “I am a broken arm,” but they might say “I have a broken arm.” Yet, just as likely, they may say “I am injured.” Would we stop them and say, “You’re not injured, you have an injury”? If we believe it is a lifetime chronic illness, then once we experience the symptoms, get diagnosed, and accept that we have to manage it for the rest of our lives, it becomes a part of us. I don’t think that whether you say “I am bipolar” or “I have bipolar” affects the person you are telling. How they handle that information is based on their attitude toward mental health. If we are saying it a certain way to reframe it in our own minds, is the reframing to remind ourselves that it wasn’t our fault? Is it because we have a stigma about it? A person might say, “I have HIV,” or “I am HIV-positive”; either way doesn’t lessen the severity of that statement for either the speaker or the listener. I know that a person with cancer doesn’t say “I am cancer,” but when they beat it, they say “I am a survivor.” Which is what you are. You are/have bipolar, and you’re a survivor. Ultimately, since it is your illness, your responsibility, and perhaps even your gift, call it whatever makes you happy.

Your Manic Depressive Friend,

Conrad

When Mania Hijacked My Dream: A Journey Through My First Bipolar Episode

Bipolar Blog Posts, Bipolar Disorder, Blog, Mental Health, Personal Journey, Personal reflection, Podcasting /

For 15 years, I’d been chasing a podcast dream. My friends, my second cousin, and I had been creating comedy shows, pouring our hearts into something we believed was special. We might not have found mainstream success, but we had passion. Then came the Okay Taco Company – our attempt to merge our podcast with a business venture.

March and April of 2023 changed everything.

It started on Groundhog Day, when we opened our Route 66 taco shop. That second night, something fundamental shifted inside me. I describe it like being hit by lightning – a moment where my brain’s circuit breakers blew, and I felt like I’d died and been reborn.

The mania crept in slowly, then consumed me entirely.

I started exercising obsessively. Not just regular workouts, but extreme, punishing routines. Running stadium stairs with my eyes closed. Sprinting miles on railroad tracks. Pushing my body to impossible limits, feeling like I was battling some internal demon.

My mind became a kaleidoscope of delusions. I believed I was a reincarnated Native American warrior with a cosmic mission. Every coincidence felt significant. The triangular shape of our property, the town’s devil mascot, even the songs on my AirPods – everything seemed like a message from the universe.

One morning, dressed in a Spider-Man hoodie, I ran to my children’s school. I kicked a ball over the fence, danced on the school’s devil mascot statue, and felt like I was fighting unseen spiritual battles. When police stopped me, I was convinced I was facing a life-or-death spiritual test.

Our taco shop dream ended. But my podcast dream? That survived.

I was diagnosed with bipolar 1 in April 2024, understanding retroactively what had happened to me. Now, I’m sharing my story – still creating, still connecting, still chasing that podcast dream that has always been my true passion.

This podcast is my way of turning a challenging experience into something meaningful. A way to connect, to understand, and hopefully help others who might be going through similar struggles.

My journey isn’t about the destination. It’s about keeping the dream alive, no matter what obstacles appear.

Healing in Hindsight

Bipolar Blog Posts, Bipolar Disorder, Blog, Mental Health, Personal Journey /

I’m still working on repairing the chaos of my last manic and major depressive episode that happened this past year. I’ve apologized to those I had manic moments with, though it seems, for some, like I should do more. Even when they’ve accepted my apology, things still feel weird—or maybe I just perceive them that way.

I’m trying to remind myself that while many friends and family members may have seen me during the episode, they didn’t live it the way I did. I was the only one stuck in it the entire time. The people who interacted with me during those moments only remember those specific interactions—if they remember them at all. And even if they do, they likely don’t remember them the way I do. They’re not stacking the entirety of my episode onto that one interaction the way I am.

What I’m describing, I think, is the guilt that comes with bipolar disorder. Sometimes, it feels like that guilt lasts longer than it should because others have moved on, but I’m still stuck in the moment I’m embarrassed about. Or even stuck in the embarrassment of being diagnosed.

No matter how many times I hear that it’s not my fault, there’s still a part of me that wishes I had held it all together.

-Sending My Love

Does Bipolar Disorder Even Exist?

Bipolar Blog Posts, Bipolar Disorder, Blog, Mental Health, Personal Journey /

Does bipolar disorder even exist? This is a thought I have—probably more often than I should—considering my history with the disorder. I guess it’s because, as I continue my journey into stability, I often think to myself: Of course this is how I am; this is my normal. The memory of my mania or depression feels so distant from my stable self that I sometimes wonder if I was just acting that way.

Then I think: Well, I would never act that way. It’s this thought that reminds me: when I’m stable and in control, those past behaviors seem so strange because they weren’t truly me. This, to me, is what the disorder is—those moods take control during an episode. When I’m in the grip of mania or depression, those states feel permanent. They feel like my “normal,” even though, to others, they are extreme. And to me they are extremely, but only through the lens of reflection.

I’m not sure if it’s the medication itself or simply the belief that the medication is working, but I don’t think it really matters as long as I stay stable. I do believe therapy helps, but for me, it’s the daily practice and application of the techniques I’ve learned that make the real difference.

Much like a good cup of coffee, stability is a daily grind. Sure, you can use the pre-ground stuff, but it’s never as good as grinding it yourself.

Sending my love,

The Sneaky Side of Mania: When Memories Strike

Bipolar Blog Posts, Bipolar Disorder, Blog, Mental Health, Personal Journey /

One of the hardest things to deal with is the memories that seem to pop up out of nowhere. You’re not even thinking about your mania, and then, all of a sudden, a flash of something you did or said comes rushing back. It completely throws you off. It might only last a few seconds, but it feels like a jolt of regret that snaps you out of your day.

You tell yourself you’re fine. It’s a great day, and you’re working on your positive thinking and reframing techniques. But then, it’s like another part of your brain throws a stick into the spokes of your bike wheel. It may not ruin your entire day, but it knocks you off track for a while.

Learning to Rise Again

Bipolar Blog Posts, Bipolar Disorder, Blog, Mental Health, Personal Journey /

I’ve been struggling to wake up in the mornings. This has been going on for a while now. At first, I couldn’t sleep at all. When I was first medicated for my bipolar disorder, I started on Abilify. At first, it felt like progress, but after a couple of weeks, I hit a week-long stretch of paranoid insomnia. Looking back, I think that might have been a mixed episode—one of those confusing and exhausting overlaps where mania and depression tangle together.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was coming down from a long manic episode, heading straight into a deep depression. It was like free-falling into darkness, and I didn’t know where I’d land. Eventually, I ended up in the hospital—more than once—and went through med changes that felt like a slow crawl toward stability.

Now, I feel like I’m clawing my way out of depression and into something resembling balance. Part of that has been reintroducing running into my daily life. Running has always been my reset button, but being a dad with a job means I need to get up early to fit it in. That’s where the real challenge comes in.

Even though I go to bed as early as possible and don’t drink anymore, it still feels like I wake up hungover. It’s getting better, but I want to wake up earlier, to feel like I’m ready to start the day. Why can’t I just roll out of bed? Why can’t I sit up and ease into it, instead of feeling like I’ve spent the last decade waking up in quicksand?

My body seems stuck in a loop, holding onto the feeling of waking up miserable, even though there’s no reason I should feel that way now. Maybe it’s a habit. Maybe it’s my brain resisting change. Either way, it’s frustrating.

In future posts, I’ll dig deeper into some of these topics—meds, sobriety, mania, hospitalizations, and the long climb toward stability. For now, I’ll sit here with my coffee, wishing it was an hour earlier and hoping tomorrow feels just a little easier.

Getting to Know Me Again

Bipolar Blog Posts, Bipolar Disorder, Blog, Mental Health, Personal Journey /

Since my diagnosis, I don’t like myself.

Worse, I don’t like anything I used to like.

Things that made me laugh, kept me busy, gave me joy—they all feel foreign now. It’s like running into an old friend and realizing you don’t have anything to talk about anymore.

I’ve been trying to reintroduce myself to my old habits. Podcasting, writing, even just sitting with myself long enough to feel something. It’s awkward. It’s frustrating. And it’s scary as hell because I don’t know what fits in this new life or what I’ve outgrown.

But I’m trying.

If you’re in the middle of something like this, I hope you are, too.

A Work in Progress: Thoughts on Perfection and Starting Anyway

Bipolar Blog Posts, Bipolar Disorder, Blog, Mental Health, Personal Journey /

Hey everyone, just wanted to share an update on the blog and where my head’s at lately. I’ve been working on this for a while now, and while it’s far from perfect, I’ve realized that waiting for perfection is a never-ending trap. I’m excited to keep sharing posts and seeing if they resonate with anyone out there.

Living with this new challenge—bipolar disorder—has been isolating at times, but my hope is that by putting my thoughts out there, I can find others walking a similar path. The blog will keep evolving as I do, and I’ll do my best to keep it updated.

I’m also really looking forward to the podcast! That’s where my passion has been for years, and I can’t wait to dive deeper into my story, including sharing some of the manic episodes I remember. Thanks for following along—I’m so grateful for anyone who takes the time to read or connect.

Groundhog Day and the Bolt That Split My Mind

Bipolar Blog Posts, Bipolar Disorder, Blog, Mental Health, Personal Journey /

I never thought I’d be in this position. Never thought I’d be dealing with something like a disorder, let alone something that hit me so late in life. I was 36, just starting to open my new business—the OK Taco Company. It wasn’t just a business; it was the culmination of years of podcasting and dreaming with my cousin. We’d been recording the OK Taco Show for a while, building this idea where our food truck and podcast worked hand in hand. It was wild, fun, and full of potential.

We’d renovated a 1977 Airstream, and every time we took it out on the road, we filmed and recorded. It felt like we were building something special, something real. Then, I found a building—one big enough to fit the trailer, where we could open a brick-and-mortar taco shop. Everything seemed to fall into place.

Then came the grand opening on Groundhog Day, and, ironically, it felt like a scene out of the movie. We had no idea what we were doing, but the whole town showed up. We weren’t prepared for the crowd, didn’t know how to manage the kitchen, or even how to handle the demand. It was overwhelming. But we got through it.

That’s when it happened.

Out of nowhere, like a flash of light, it felt like my brain got split open. I didn’t know what it was at the time, but it was like everything inside me shifted. I still kept going, serving customers, going home, thinking I was fine—but I wasn’t. I was unknowingly stepping into something much bigger than I understood.

The sleepless nights started soon after. And with them came the ideas. Endless, overwhelming ideas. The grandiose thinking kicked in. I started overspending on the business, buying things I thought would help. Trips to Dollar General, Walmart, Amazon—anything I could get my hands on for these projects I couldn’t stop planning. Some of them seemed good, others… not so much. But I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t stick to one idea. I thought I was improving things, but I was spiraling, falling deeper into mania, and I didn’t even know it.

Looking back, I realize I should have just stuck with the plan we had, with the things that were already working. But instead, I got lost in all the “what-ifs” and “maybe’s.” I had no idea where this was all heading, or how long it would last. I didn’t know what mania was. It was all new to me.

For now, this is where I’ll leave the story. The initial unraveling. There’s more to come, but this moment—this flash of light that started everything—is where it all began.

Building a Bipolar 1 Blog: When My Passion Becomes a Cause for Concern

Bipolar Blog Posts, Bipolar Disorder, Blog, Mental Health, Personal Journey /

When I decided to start a blog about my experience with bipolar 1 disorder, it felt like the right thing to do. I’ve always been someone who loves to share my story, and this seemed like a way to not only open up about my journey but also to help others understand what it’s really like to live with this condition. But there’s something about it that’s starting to worry the people around me. And honestly, it’s something I can’t completely ignore.

The thing is, when I get into a project, especially one like this, I go all in. Anyone who has bipolar 1 probably knows what I mean when I say that. I get hyper-focused, like a switch gets flipped, and I can’t stop. I’ve got all these ideas, all this energy, and I’m just running with it. Right now, it’s my blog. The problem? That level of intensity can be overwhelming for those who care about me. They start to notice when I’m burning the candle at both ends, forgetting to check in with them, or just completely losing track of time. And sometimes, they’re right to be concerned.

Here’s where it gets tricky: the thing I’m doing to share my experience with bipolar 1 is actually a perfect example of what happens when I’m in a manic phase. My hyper-focus, my inability to stop once I’m started — it’s all part of the disorder. The very thing that I’m using to open up about bipolar 1 is also kind of a walking example of how the disorder takes over my life. It’s a bit of a double-edged sword.

Now, when my family or friends raise their concerns, I can’t just brush it off. They’re worried because they’ve seen what happens when I get too wrapped up in something. They know that I can push too hard, stretch myself too thin, and end up burning out. And the worst part is, I can’t argue with them. Because, honestly, they’re right. When I’m manic, I’m not always in control of the decisions I’m making. I can’t always tell when I’m overdoing it. But, on the flip side, I also can’t ignore the fact that I’m passionate about this blog, and I want to make a difference. It’s a struggle to balance the two.

This is the part where the paradox sets in. I’m sharing my story about bipolar 1 to educate others, to open up conversations, and to show people that they’re not alone. But the way I’m doing it — with this hyper-focus and intensity — could be a cause for concern. And I get it. It’s a fine line. On one hand, I want to share everything I’m learning and experiencing. On the other hand, I know that my “all-in” approach can sometimes be a red flag for those around me.

So, are they right to worry? Maybe. I can’t deny that the same enthusiasm that fuels my work could also be a sign that things aren’t totally balanced. Bipolar disorder affects more than just me. It affects my family, my friends, the people who care about me. And they don’t want to see me go too far down a path that I can’t control.

That’s where I’m at right now. I want to keep pushing forward with this blog and continue sharing my journey, but I also have to take a step back and make sure I’m not crossing that line into mania. It’s about finding that balance between doing what I’m passionate about and staying grounded. Because at the end of the day, while this blog is a way for me to express myself, I have to remember that the people I love are part of this story too. And their concerns? They matter just as much as mine.