I am one of the millions of people living with bipolar disorder, a mental health condition characterized by extreme highs and lows in mood and energy, with periods of normal mood, or “baseline,” in between. The predictor of a good day for me isn’t necessarily to never experience challenging emotions or distressing thoughts, but to actually trust my body and mind to come back to baseline every time.
At my baseline, I can move through the emotions and honor what I’m feeling, while staying connected to the present moment. Getting good sleep, using my coping skills, practicing self-care, and meeting myself with kindness have been crucial in supporting my recovery.
Getting good sleep
When I sleep really well, I often feel stable and at ease. On mornings I don’t rest well, I sometimes wake up feeling irritable. This can reflect in how I interact with others first thing in the morning. To help get a good night’s sleep, I try to honor my body’s natural circadian rhythm by turning off the lights and putting my phone away by a decent time.
Using my coping skills
Throughout my day, I am constantly noticing shifts in my mood. These are my “make or break” moments. When I notice such shifts in my mood, I start enacting self-compassion and gentleness to my spirit right away. If I can catch that moodiness fluctuating in real time, I can better equip myself with coping skills and feel better in time.
For instance, if a driver suddenly swerves their car into my lane while driving, I may experience a state of hyperarousal and feel triggered. In moments where a racing heartbeat or an emotional response may occur, I utilize a Dialectical Behavioral Therapy (DBT) skill called TIPP. I blast the air conditioning, drink cold water, and/or put cold water on my chest. This “reset” of coldness can snap us back into the present moment and provide relief from the distress of our “fight or flight.”
The sacred art of self-care
When I’m taking care of my activities of daily living — like making sure my teeth are brushed, my face is washed, and my room is clean — my head also feels less cluttered and better focused. I also give myself grace when I cannot complete these tasks. During spring break, I completely cleaned my room and got myself organized after putting it off for a while. Self-care reduces anxiety and stress while increasing self-compassion, yet the average person only spends 15 minutes a day on it. So, a good day in recovery is being able to handle these tasks and then being able to be creative with my art and writing in a clean space.
Meeting myself with kindness
I take a personal inventory of my days. I get curious, instead of judgmental, and wonder where I could’ve made a different decision or communicated differently. I find that the good days in recovery reflect that honesty and humility. If I wasn’t being kind to myself in these moments, it could turn into self-loathing. I used to stay up late at night worrying myself sick about mistakes I made. But now, I practice self-compassion. When I pair taking inventory with a loving eye, it allows me to hold accountability for myself while promoting my wellness and freedom.
When we experience automatic or intrusive thoughts, bringing thoughtful mindfulness to them and naming both good and bad feelings can validate the present moment. Instead of having an “elephant in the room” approach to negative feelings — trying to ignore or change them immediately — naming that something is hard or that we are in pain actually makes us feel better.
Having these daily rituals and coping skills within the snapshots of everyday human struggle reminds me that I am capable of handling my thoughts and emotions. Forming habits such as good sleep, coping skills, self-care, and self-compassion takes time. With the right support, there is hope that we can get on a better path to healing and thrive.
“My worst days in recovery are better than my best days in relapse.” – Kate Le Page
Lexie Manion (she/her) is a published writer, passionate artist, and outspoken mental health advocate. Pursuing her MA in art therapy, she strongly believes that art and writing are pillars of healing. You can find more of her work at lexiemanion.com or follow her on Instagram.
The views and opinions expressed in this blog solely belong to the author, and external content does not necessarily reflect the views of Mental Health America.
