When you live with bipolar disorder, love alone isn’t always enough — but love paired with ownership and action can carry you far.
My husband, Frank, lives for adventure. When he’s driving our giant 4×4 hunting rig — a lifted Ford Excursion on nearly four-foot tall tires — he doesn’t hesitate to steer us sideways along a steep mountainside, over enormous boulders, or deep into the seemingly bottomless mud pits near our Alaskan home. While I sit in the passenger seat, slightly worried but also laughing, my stepsons squeal with joy, and I frequently wonder: How does he do it?
It’s not that I wonder how he steers so well, or dodges obstacles, or keeps his wits when something breaks — or even how he always keeps us safe. What amazes me more is how, for more than four years now, he’s navigated the far greater adventure of living with me — a woman diagnosed with bipolar disorder.
Eventually, I started asking him how he does it. His first answer is always: “Because I love you.” But I know it’s not that simple.
Conversations That Matter: Learning From Each Other
So, I tried a different approach.
I asked Frank, “What would you say to a friend if he told you he was marrying someone with bipolar disorder?”
He paused for a moment, and I felt a little nervous as I waited for his reply. I’ve wondered before — as many of us do — if he ever regretted marrying me.
But then he answered:
“I think I would first ask him a few questions. Does she acknowledge it? Does she accept it? Does she make decisions to make it better? Because that’s what makes all the difference in the world.”
That conversation inspired me to share what we’ve learned, in hopes of supporting other couples on a similar path.
1. Acknowledge Your Bipolar Diagnosis
If you had high blood pressure, ignoring it wouldn’t make it go away. Even if symptoms aren’t showing, the condition still needs managing — and bipolar disorder is no different. It affects not just your body, but your emotional responses, your decision-making, your finances, your career, and most of all, your relationships.
Recognizing you have a serious condition — even when you’re feeling good — is a vital first step to managing it.
Frank once told me, “It would be really hard, and I don’t know how I’d do it, if we all knew you had bipolar disorder but you didn’t do anything about it.”
2. Own Your Mental Health Journey
Acknowledging bipolar disorder isn’t enough. I’ve learned I also have to own it. That’s been incredibly hard for me.
Every few years, it feels like I go through Kubler-Ross’s five stages of grief again just to re-accept this diagnosis. I may be thriving — feeling accomplished and stable — when suddenly it hits me again, and I feel like I’m starting over. Still, I try not to run from it.
Owning my condition doesn’t mean it defines me or becomes my excuse. Instead, I face it head-on and do what I can to manage it — for myself and for my family.
3. Make Small Choices That Prevent Mood Swings
I can’t always prevent bipolar episodes, but I’ve learned that I have far more power to reduce the likelihood of a mood swing than I do to stop one once it starts.
Every day, I make small choices that keep me on track: taking my medication on time, going to sleep on time, keeping my appointments with my doctor and therapist, and maintaining a healthy lifestyle. For example, saying no to even one margarita at dinner could help me avoid the destabilizing effects that alcohol can have on my system.
These choices may seem small, but they matter. They’re proactive acts of love — for myself and for my family.
Stability Is a Moving Target — but Worth the Effort
Finding stability after a bipolar diagnosis takes time. Accepting the diagnosis, finding the right treatment, and learning how to adapt are all part of a continuous process. What worked once might not work forever.
Over the years, I’ve realized that maintaining balance is an ongoing challenge — but I also know that when I start to cycle, it impacts everyone I love.
That doesn’t mean I never mess up. I do. And often, those mistakes have real consequences for me and my husband. Other times, I think I’m doing everything right — and I still find myself struggling.
Love, Loss, and What Keeps Me Going
I love my family deeply, and I never want to lose them. My first husband once told me my illness was a “mountain of darkness” he could never get over — and he left.
Of course, it wasn’t that simple. But I know what it feels like to lose someone you love after years of trying to manage this illness. That pain stays with me.
So I do everything I can to be the best wife and mother I can be. Yes, I may have to work harder at it because of my bipolar disorder. But that doesn’t mean it’s impossible — not if I continue to acknowledge it, own it, and make the everyday choices that move me toward stability. And when I do that, it doesn’t just help me — it helps the people I love most.
UPDATED: Originally posted October 9, 2018