My Beautiful Bipolar Mind

World Bipolar Day: The Year Everything Fell Apart… and Finally Made Sense A lighthearted, honest look at living with bipolar disorder, mental health, and the power of support There was a long stretch of my life where I genuinely believed I was just “bad at being a person.” My emotions behaved like they were auditioning for a circus act, soaring into the clouds one moment and crashing through the floor the next. I’d sink into terrible episodes of depression that felt like someone switched off the sun, followed by extreme highs where I was convinced I could fix my entire life, career, and possibly the global economy in one weekend. I kept asking myself the same quiet question: What is wrong with me? And because I didn’t have an answer, I carried the shame alone. Before I carry on, I need to mention in huge neon lights that anyone experiencing symptoms like these should speak with a qualified mental health professional, because proper support is essential for managing bipolar disorder sa...

My First Friday: Holding the Fort While He Travels Africa I’ve made it to my first Friday! The first Friday of a month away from my husband, while he travels across Africa, and I… well, I run the small nation-state that is our home. Let’s be honest, this isn’t just “holding down the fort.” This is logistics, diplomacy, crisis management, emotional regulation, and Uber‑Momming all rolled into one. While Adrian hops between countries, I’m here juggling: A home that refuses to pause just because he’s away A kid with schedules that multiply the moment I blink An office that still expects me to be a functioning adult The dreaded report that lurks like a villain in a Marvel origin story The ongoing ingrown toenail saga (because of course) And the IEB Concession fight, a full-time advocacy job all on its own As if that list wasn’t enough, this season comes with early mornings . The kind of early mornings that should be illegal. Let me be clear: I am not a morning person. I do ...

The Emotional Seesaw of Letting Go (and Trying Not to Cry in Public) This week has felt like standing with one foot in two different worlds, the world where my children still need me, and the world where my marriage and my own heart need tending too. Somehow, I’m expected to balance both without falling apart. Spoiler: I did fall apart… in a barber shop, of all places… because of course I did. Matt started his first day of work this morning, day one of a five‑day induction. His nerves have been simmering for days, and they finally boiled over this morning, but he straightened his shoulders, lifted his chin, and walked out the door like a determined young man. I watched him go with that familiar cocktail of pride, panic, and “oh my word, when did he get so grown?” And then the flat went quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that makes you suddenly aware of your own breathing. So, I’ve spent the day on his couch, half-watching TV, half-folding washing, ironing shirts, and keeping one...