Anonymous: “I’m Bipolar II and I Can’t Tell Anyone”

It’s Mental Health Awareness Month, and although we’ve made progress, have we normalized therapy aesthetics rather than the understanding mental disorders?

Therapy is no longer whispered about the way it once was. TikTok is filled with conversations about “soft life,” Black boy joy, boundaries, journaling, meditation, and more. There’s almost a social expectation now, especially in younger Black communities, that emotionally evolved people go to therapy and heal their trauma.

But what happens when your mental health struggle is not solved by drinking green juices or reading The Power of Now? What happens when your condition is chronic?

Because the uncomfortable truth is that we’ve conflated wellness with mental disorders that are serious medical conditions.

There is still a massive difference between saying you “go to therapy” and saying you have Bipolar II disorder. One gets you praise for being self-aware. The other can make people afraid of you.

And in many Black households, especially Caribbean ones, mental disorders are still deeply misunderstood. For generations, symptoms of depression, bipolar disorder, and ADHD were labeled as laziness, attitude problems, or even demonic behavior. People weren’t told to seek psychiatric help. They were told to pray harder or keep family business inside the house.

And maybe that stigma never fully left. It just became understood on a surface level. Many people still do not understand the symptoms of these conditions and judge others based on what they consider typical behavior, even though those diagnosed are not operating from a typical mental or emotional experience. Because these disorders are not always physically visible, people often struggle to empathize with the internal battles that come with them.

Even today, Black Americans are less likely to receive proper mental health treatment and more likely to be misdiagnosed. Black men, in particular, have historically been overdiagnosed with schizophrenia while mood disorders and trauma were overlooked. Mental healthcare has never been culturally sensitive or financially realistic for everyone.

When people hear the word bipolar, many immediately think about extreme public breakdowns or Kanye West headlines. But Bipolar II disorder often presents differently than what people imagine. Unlike Bipolar I, which includes full manic episodes, Bipolar II is marked by cycles of depression and hypomania, a less visible form of mania that can look like productivity, impulsiveness, irritability, and overworking.

Many people with Bipolar II appear “high functioning” while privately struggling to stay alive.

That’s part of what makes the disorder so isolating. You can look successful, social, attractive, ambitious, and still feel mentally unsafe inside your own mind. Some days you can barely show up for yourself, let alone the people you love. But because your struggle is invisible, people take it personally. Relationships suffer. Friendships fade. You lose people not because you do not care, but because you cannot always be the same version of yourself every day.

And despite all the online conversations about mental health, many people still do not feel safe being honest, especially professionally.

Job applications ask candidates to disclose disabilities, including psychiatric conditions, but many people still wonder what happens after they check that box. Will this quietly ruin my chances? Will people think I’m unstable if they know I take medication? Will they trust me less?

So people stay silent.

The modern wellness movement has also created another kind of pressure: the pressure to heal correctly. Social media often suggests that if you are struggling, it’s because you haven’t optimized yourself enough yet. Wake up earlier. Journal more. Meditate. Drink more water.

But mental disorders are not something you can manifest away.

Some people are fighting battles rooted in brain chemistry, trauma, genetics, and systemic neglect. Some people need medication. Some people need long-term psychiatric support. Some people are doing all the “right” things and still struggling to function.

That does not make them failures.

Mental Health Awareness Month should not only celebrate healing when it looks inspirational. It should also make space for people who are figuring out their diagnosis, still finding the right medication, and still searching for the right people to talk to without feeling like they are trauma dumping.

Because therapy culture without compassion for people struggling with mental disorders is just performance.

Written by Ketia Jeune