Onika L. Dainty

More Than One Battle: Living with Bipolar Disorder and Substance Use Disorder

Being Diagnosed with Multiple Disorders Series - Part 1

I Wasn’t Just “Self-Medicating.” I Was Surviving

I used to tell myself I was just taking the edge off. Whether it was weed, alcohol, or something stronger, I believed I was managing my mental health the only way I knew how. But deep down, I was trying to quiet a storm I did not yet have language for.

My first encounter with marijuana, which later became my drug of choice, happened in my fourth year of university. I was struggling with severe insomnia, something I had already come to accept as normal. My sleeplessness was fueled by anxiety, constant worry, and an overwhelming fear of failure. After four or five nights without rest, I moved through my days like a zombie, barely making it through lectures or essays.

One night, a friend suggested I smoke a joint to help me sleep. I was already a casual cigarette smoker, but that first drag of marijuana felt different. I remember feeling Happy, Dopey, Sleepy, Hungry, and most of all, numb. It was a relief I had never known. I could not have anticipated the nearly twenty year relationship that would follow. Even if someone had warned me, I would not have listened. My racing thoughts quieted, my anxiety softened, and I believed I had found something that finally worked. Or perhaps it had found me.

Living with both Bipolar disorder and Substance Use disorder often feels like fighting on two fronts. Understanding the link between them became my first step toward real healing. I spent nearly two decades justifying my substance use, dismissing concerns, and resisting anyone who questioned my coping mechanisms. It was not until my final hospitalization and the recovery journey that followed that I understood how deeply marijuana had blocked my health, my stability, and my future. This post explores the intersection of Bipolar disorder and substance use through lived experience and the path toward dual recovery.

How Bipolar Disorder and Substance Use Feed Each Other

During both manic highs and depressive lows, people living with Bipolar disorder are especially vulnerable to substance use. Drugs and alcohol can seem like solutions for racing thoughts, restlessness, insomnia, impulsivity, irritability, and emotional instability. Depression often fuels the desire to escape through numbing.

While substances may appear to help in the short term, they often worsen mood episodes, mask symptoms, or trigger new ones. The relief is temporary, but the consequences compound. Chasing stability through substances ultimately delays the emotional regulation, structure, and routine that support long term healing and recovery.

In my own experience, combining Bipolar disorder and substance use was deeply destabilizing. A pharmacist once explained how substance use makes it nearly impossible for psychiatrists to identify a patient’s true baseline. When substances interact with psychiatric medication, it becomes difficult to prescribe effective mood stabilizers or antipsychotics. The more substances involved, the harder remission and recovery become.

The Myth of “Self-Medicating.” A Bipolar Woman’s Lived Experience

I stopped fooling myself about self-medicating nearly two years ago. During one of my final hospitalizations, while in the grip of Mania, I wrote myself a “Dear Me” letter. It was raw, honest, and impossible to ignore.

January 6, 2024

Real talk time. You are lying to yourself if you think marijuana has nothing to do with the nine episodes you have had in 2023 and 2024. You have to stop. Do not touch it. You are on the verge of losing everything. Your home. Your relationships. Your future. You tell yourself it is not a problem, but in your heart you know it is. You are an addict. When you are well, you are amazing. When you are using, you are Chaos Come to Life. Stop hurting yourself. Fight for your life.

I remember writing those words while twenty days sober, determined not to go backward. I could no longer convince myself, my doctors, or my loved ones that I was self-medicating. The truth was clear. I had been living with addiction for nearly twenty years. Marijuana had kept me numb and protected me from facing trauma and pain I was not ready to confront.

The line between self-medication and addiction is thinner than most people realize. What begins as coping can quietly turn into dependency. The temporary relief masks long term emotional, physical, and chemical harm. If you do not know where that line exists, you may not recognize when you have crossed it.

Diagnosis Doesn’t Mean Defeat. It Means a New Language

Receiving a dual diagnosis of Bipolar disorder and Substance Use disorder was not a failure, it was clarity. Naming both conditions expanded the possibilities for effective treatment and healing. Acknowledging substance use allowed me to rebuild my care plan with honesty and intention.

Integrated care made the difference. Therapy, medication management, peer support, and sobriety tools worked together to support my recovery. This process was not immediate or linear. There were setbacks and moments of doubt, but self-compassion mattered more than perfection. Recovery is a long road, and grace belongs on every step of it.

Healing Is Messy, But It’s Possible

One of the most powerful lessons of my recovery journey is that although Bipolar disorder can be managed rather than cured, sobriety remains a daily choice. Healing from addiction has been difficult, but it has been possible. I am proud to say I have not returned to marijuana in two years.

I had to relearn how to cope with stress without numbing. Grounding practices, journaling, structure, and staying connected to people who support my sobriety have been essential. Relapse does not mean failure. It means the fight continues.

There are days when the urge to escape resurfaces, when the symptoms feel overwhelming, and when the past seems easier than the present. In those moments, I ask myself one question. Am I worth fighting for? The answer, every time, is yes.

Final Thought: I Am Not My Disorders, But I Honor Their Impact

When my psychiatrist formally diagnosed me with Substance Use disorder, I felt exposed but also relieved. Years of hiding behind the idea of self-medication fell away. I finally had a starting point for healing.

Recovery required patience and honesty. I built a toolkit that included addiction counseling, trauma therapy, and continued psychiatric care. I learned that to address my substance use, I first had to face the trauma beneath it. That work continues today.

I am two years sober. I remain mindful that living with a severe mood disorder means staying transparent with both my medical and support teams. I take recovery one day at a time, one step at a time, grounded in structure, self-awareness, and hope.

To my readers:

If you are carrying more than one diagnosis, how do you show yourself grace? What is one small act of care you can offer to every part of who you are?