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

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.

Chasing Dreams: Overcoming Obstacles in Pursuit of Passion

I know we have to put in the work. I’ve heard all the sayings, and I’ve bought into the notions. I’ve put my head down and plowed ahead, dreamed big and kept it to myself. I’ve dreamed big and told everyone. I don’t know if there’s a secret to success, but I do know how to blow up a project—my last attempt at pursuing my passion proved that.

I thought that if I created something familiar, like a restaurant, I could embed my passion within it and gain an audience that way. Turns out, that’s a lot of work just to get someone to listen to your podcast. By the way, when people go to eat a taco, they don’t go to listen to a podcast.

I’ve been putting myself out there for years, trying every tip and trick in the book. And yet, here I am, still searching for an answer to the question: What do you want to do for a living?

I want to do a podcast. I want to do a blog. I want to express myself.

But then there’s that voice: Yeah, but no one cares what you have to say.
That’s a tough way to make a living. You’ll never make it. No one will pay to hear you.

I’ve heard it. I’ve felt it. For 15 years, the naysayers have been right. My last attempt ended in a chaotic manic episode and a bipolar diagnosis. So, should I even be trying again?

If this is what I’ve always wanted to do, how can I stop? The truth is, I can’t stop trying.

I want to live up to the idea that if you work hard and don’t quit, it will all work out. I want to show my children that persistence pays off, that they can be whatever they want to be—not that their dad is a crazy bipolar madman who tried, lost his mind, and quit when things got tough.

That doesn’t have to be my story. I get to choose how I continue after a manic break. I get to try again. I get to believe—despite all evidence to the contrary—that if you want something bad enough and don’t quit, things will work out.

The quitting monster already tried to get me. Falling into a bipolar depression after my manic episode took me deep into suicidal ideation—the phase so many of us with this disorder fight. It took me to the psych ward. It took me to a place of embarrassment and shame where I didn’t want to get out of bed, let alone get behind a microphone and talk about what I know.

But I don’t want to let that define me.

I am here for a reason.

The voice inside me keeps pushing me to get up, keep going, trust myself, and believe in my purpose.

Starting Over: Mixing Podcasting with Mental Health Advocacy

When I started podcasting over 14 years ago, it wasn’t about becoming an advocate for anything. It was about escaping into my own world, sharing my thoughts with a small group of friends, and giving myself and others a place to laugh. The stories I shared were always true, but they were exaggerated for comedy—my way of navigating the challenges of a blue-collar life while also finding humor in the chaos. And that was enough for me. I was passionate about podcasting, and it became my outlet, my dream, and my escape.

But things change. Life changes. And when I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, I found myself at a crossroads. I couldn’t ignore this new chapter in my life, and I couldn’t pretend that it didn’t affect everything I did. My entire outlook shifted. My mental health became a part of my story, and I wasn’t sure how to share it.

So, here I am, wondering: Do I start a new podcast that’s strictly about mental health? Do I only talk about bipolar disorder and mental health advocacy? Am I supposed to become an expert now? But the truth is, while I am not a mental health professional, I am an expert on my own life. I can share my experiences, what I’ve gone through, and what I’ve learned—and maybe that’s enough to help someone else feel less alone.

The stigma surrounding mental health is something I’ve felt firsthand, especially when I was diagnosed. At first, I didn’t know what to do with that feeling. But as I’ve tried to better understand myself and my disorder, I found myself searching for resources—books, articles, and eventually podcasts. But I noticed something: there wasn’t much out there from someone who had lived through it and also had a background in podcasting. That’s when it hit me: Maybe this is where I fit in.

I’m not looking to start a show that only talks about bipolar disorder, but I do want to make mental health part of the conversation. I want to share my journey—not because I have all the answers, but because my experiences might resonate with someone else. It’s not about becoming an expert; it’s about sharing a lived experience and breaking down the stigma, one conversation at a time.

So, I’ve decided to mix my love for podcasting with my desire to raise awareness about mental health. Maybe it’s a weird mix, but it’s my mix, and I’m sticking with it.

I’m still figuring it out—figuring out the balance of mental health advocacy and keeping the authenticity of the podcasting I’ve always loved. But one thing’s for sure: I’m not walking away from this. I’m moving forward, and I’m excited to bring you all along for the ride.

If you’re going through this too, if you’ve felt the way I have, I hope this podcast can offer you that same escape. We’re all in this together, and maybe, just maybe, we can fill that gap I was looking for when I first started my journey.

If you’d like to share your own story, I’d love to hear from you. You can leave a comment or send me a message about your experience. If you’re comfortable, I’d love to feature your story in a future episode. Whether it’s public or private, your voice matters. We’re stronger when we share our stories.