I became a mother and received a bipolar diagnosis in the same year. What should have been a time of getting to know my baby became a frightening period in which I struggled to understand what was happening to me.
After the birth of my first child in 2014, I experienced anxiety and very little sleep. When I came home, my mental health deteriorated. I experienced psychosis and delusions, and was admitted to a mental health hospital.
I felt vulnerable, cold and alone. I kept ringing people, asking them to take me home. I could not understand why I was there, away from my baby. I did not want medication because, in my mind, I did not understand why I needed it.
Later, I moved to a specialist mother and baby unit and was reunited with my child. With treatment and medication, my mood began to improve.
But coming to terms with the diagnosis and its effect on our family, took much longer.
The worry about what people will say
In my experience, some of the fear surrounding mental health in South Asian families comes from not understanding it. Will the person get better? How will they behave? What will other people think?
My mum once asked: “Why did it happen to you and not your cousins?”
Those words stayed with me. They made my diagnosis feel like something that had gone wrong specifically with me, something to compare with other people’s lives.
There can also be pressure to keep quiet. Comments such as “You won’t get married with a mental health condition” make it harder to speak openly or seek support.
I want us to be able to talk about bipolar without shame. Families need information and reassurance, rather than silence that leaves everyone guessing.
Faith can be a source of comfort. Listening to kirtan helps me relax. But for me, that comfort sits alongside medication and support from mental health professionals.
My husband needed support too
While I was unwell, my husband was trying to cope with a situation neither of us had expected.
He felt lonely, lost and confused. Although family were around, he did not feel that anyone fully understood what he was going through. He had very little space to offload his own worries.
Bipolar put a strain on our relationship. We sought couples counselling because we both wanted it to work, and it helped us communicate more openly.
One piece of advice was to avoid making major decisions when we were angry. Another was to notice what we appreciated about each other and explain why it mattered.
My husband also said something I needed to hear: we did not always have to talk about the condition or how to improve it. Sometimes, we could simply enjoy being together.
Coffee, walks and time away as a couple helped us reconnect. Our extended family supported us by making those breaks possible.
I would like to see more support for South Asian partners and carers. They need somewhere to speak honestly too.
When the everyday became difficult
I experienced further episodes after bereavement and the birth of my second child.
During depression, tasks I would usually do without thinking became difficult. Showering, combing my hair and preparing a meal could feel beyond me.
As a dietitian and someone who loves creating dishes full of colour and flavour, losing my enthusiasm and confidence in cooking was particularly painful.
I also felt guilty as a mother. Usually, I would take the children out, meet friends or practise singing and instruments with them. During one summer, playing board games was what I could manage.
Instead of recognising what I was still giving them, I focused on everything I thought I was failing to do.
At my lowest, I experienced suicidal thoughts. I withdrew from friends and family for about a year. They contacted my husband because they knew that silence was unlike me.
Looking back, I can see how much I needed support, even when I found it difficult to ask.
Learning to notice small steps
A conversation with a close friend helped me feel reassured. Afterwards, I put on some lipstick. It was a small action, but it mattered to me.
I began writing down positive things I had managed, however ordinary they seemed: brushing my hair, having a shower, helping prepare food.
Those notes became part of my recovery, alongside professional care. They helped me see progress that my negative thoughts had been hiding.
An 11-week course about managing bipolar also helped me understand my condition. Family support sessions gave those around me a better understanding, while my mental health team supported me through difficult periods.
I have learnt that each episode can be different. I cannot assume that what helped once will be enough every time.
Making room for rest and honesty
My husband and I have developed a wellness monitoring tool to help us notice changes in my mood and behaviour.
We pay attention to sleep, how busy my diary is and whether I am becoming overwhelmed. Weddings, family visits and holidays can be enjoyable, but I have learnt to allow recovery time around them.
Sometimes that means taking a break from a gathering. Sometimes it means tidying one room instead of trying to do the whole house.
I have also had to learn to be honest about how I feel, rather than saying I am fine because I wish I were.
Medication and contact with my mental health team remain part of my care. Routine, rest and support help me manage daily life alongside that treatment.
Living with bipolar has taught me a great deal about myself. It has also taught me how much difference a patient conversation or a supportive partner can make.
If someone in your family is struggling, ask what they need. Give them room to answer without judgment.
And if you are living with bipolar, you do not have to carry it quietly to protect everyone else from discomfort. You deserve support, and you are more than your diagnosis.
This is a poem of my personal experience of my Bipolar journey, and as a part of south Asian community
Life has its challenges but with Bipolar coping in the situation can be much more challenging.
Bipolar is a symptom triggered with stress,
In hard times it feels that life is a mess.
People outside don’t know what to do.
Often it impacts on others and they get stressed too.
Love heals the wounds over time.
Always persist, have faith and things will be fine.
Regular monitoring to prevent a relapse, that’s the way forward to keep you on track.
Dreams and visions can be achieved.
In doubt you sometimes may feel deceived.
Scream out loud, share your emotions.
Only this is the way not bottling them up into potions.
Remember you are an individual too.
Doing all in life that you can do.
Everybody matters whether with a condition or not
Relationships and family are a key and a knot
