Onika L. Dainty

A Diagnosis I Didn’t See Coming

It was January 2025 when I started a group trauma informed treatment program at Ontario Shores Centre for Mental Health Sciences. For the first time in the history of my mental illness, I was given access to my personal medical records from my stay at the psychiatric hospital. I was curious about what the medical staff, social workers, psychotherapists, and psychiatrist had observed while I was deeply unwell during my three month residency in 2024. When I began exploring the daily, detailed reports about my behaviour and activity on the unit, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It all appeared to fit my experience of mania and how I remembered behaving.

Then I opened a Psychosocial Assessment dated February 2, 2024, and something shifted inside me. It felt like the identity of my illness had changed, and with it, the way I had understood myself for over 20 years. The report read:

Ms. Onika Dainty is a 41 year old woman with a diagnosis of schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type, with noted borderline traits.

The ground beneath my feet shook. I knew it was not a medical error. I felt confused and betrayed, but also like I had just been handed another piece of the puzzle that makes up my complex mind. I knew very little about this diagnosis, yet I was determined to face it head on.

Being newly diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder can feel overwhelming, isolating, and hard to explain, even to yourself. This blog explores what schizoaffective disorder is, how it overlaps with diagnoses like bipolar disorder, and what it can mean to live with a layered mental health condition.

What Is Schizoaffective Disorder? A Blended Symptom Profile

What is Schizoaffective Disorder?

Schizoaffective disorder is a complex mental illness that blends symptoms of schizophrenia, such as hallucinations, delusions, and disorganized thinking, with symptoms of a mood disorder, such as depression or mania. This combination can disrupt thoughts, emotions, and daily functioning. There are two main types: bipolar type and depressive type. It is often misdiagnosed early because the symptom profile overlaps with both schizophrenia and mood disorders like Bipolar disorder.

Schizoaffective vs Bipolar vs Schizophrenia

Schizoaffective disorder is a hybrid condition with a blended symptom profile. Schizophrenia and Bipolar disorder have distinct clinical categories, with schizophrenia typically defined by psychosis and Bipolar disorder defined by episodic mood shifts. The overlap becomes especially confusing when someone experiences manic psychosis and continues to have psychotic symptoms after the mood episode begins to stabilize. In other words, the mood may calm down, but hallucinations, delusions, or disorganized thinking can linger beyond the manic phase.

The Emotional Weight of a Complex Diagnosis: A Formally Bipolar Woman’s New Blended Reality

The biggest challenge I faced with my new diagnosis of Schizoaffective disorder-bipolar type, was the feeling of being misled by my medical team. I was almost a year out of hospital when I discovered it. If I had not been curious enough to read my medical reports, I would have continued living under a label that no longer fit the full picture of my mental health.

I was angry, ashamed, and afraid. The moment I read Schizoaffective disorder in my file, I felt like I had lost my identity. I felt like I had walked down the wrong path on my journey to wellness and that I was too far in to turn back and start over.

And yet, there was also relief. I had always felt pieces of my mental health puzzle were missing. When I am in psychosis, I have experienced auditory delusions, visual hallucinations, and extreme disorganized thinking. My Bipolar disorder framework could not fully explain those symptoms, so I told myself they were simply part of my manic episodes. After being in and out of psychosis for almost a year, unable to manage on my own, admitted and discharged from units whose main mandate was to stabilize me, I eventually became a resident of a mental health hospital with the time and resources to observe me properly.

When I saw the new diagnosis, I thought I should feel gratitude, but instead I mourned. I mourned the woman who had fought for almost 20 years against stigma, discrimination, and misunderstanding related to Bipolar disorder. I became an advocate, a peer support specialist, and a woman who learned the language of mental health so I could move through a world that often saw me as broken. How would I keep moving forward if I did not even know what I had? If my care team was not being transparent with me?

That evening I called my cousin in tears, and he asked me a profound question: Are you a different person than you were yesterday? Are you still the woman who has the tools to manage your mental illness, regardless of what it is called?

The answer was a resounding yes. My diagnosis had changed, but I had not. I was still Onika. I was still determined. My goal has always been healing, emotional stability, and a full, joyous, robust life. Nothing changed except that I now had a more complete picture of my symptom profile. I had to let go of the person I thought I was, close the door on the diagnosis I believed was mine, and make space to learn and grow within this new blended reality.

Learning to Manage the Dual Sides of the Diagnosis

Once I moved through the initial shock of my Schizoaffective disorder diagnosis and began educating myself, I was able to take my power back and rebuild a management strategy that spoke to all parts of my mental health. I started by looking at treatment options and realized they were similar to what I already knew. A combination of antipsychotics, mood stabilizers, and psychotherapy was recommended by my mental health care team.

Since my discharge from Ontario Shores Centre for Mental Health Sciences in 2024, I have not experienced psychotic symptoms, but I have noticed longer mood shifts. I track these mini episodes in my daily planner because structure and self awareness help me stay grounded.

Managing Schizoaffective disorder has its challenges, but I prioritize routine, healthy habits, and stability as a form of protection. Sleep hygiene has become a primary pillar of my care plan. I am still a 5 a.m. person, but now I take my medication earlier so I can get eight to ten hours of sleep consistently. My second pillar is stress management. I use meditation, breathwork, and daily movement to reduce anxiety and support emotional regulation. My third pillar is medication adherence and transparency with my healthcare team. I take my medication as prescribed and check in monthly, or sooner if I feel a crisis on the horizon. The final pillar is self care, self compassion, and grace.

I feel brand new in this diagnosis, so I keep reminding myself that once upon a time I was new to Bipolar disorder too. I felt helpless and alone then. Over time, I learned to advocate for myself. I learned to lean on my support team. I learned that healing is a process, and that psychoeducation, routine, and community can hold you steady when your mind feels loud.

Final Thoughts

It’s Okay to Be in the Process

With this new diagnosis, I have had to accept a few hard truths. First, it is okay to be in the process, as long as I am an active part of the process. This diagnosis is part of my reality, but it is words on a page in the next chapter of my life, not the entire book and not how my story ends.

I have also learned to stop chasing the “right” label and start listening to my lived experience. Schizoaffective disorder is simply terminology for a cluster of symptoms I have always carried. In many ways, it is not a detour. It is a more accurate map for the journey I have already been on.

Whether it is Bipolar disorder, anxiety, PTSD, ADHD, or Schizoaffective disorder, I have always fought for a better life while living with mental illness. None of these labels define me. They guide me toward understanding the unique, and often beautiful, trappings of a complex mind.

To my readers: If a diagnosis could be a doorway instead of a definition, what kind of understanding might you find on the other side?

Last year I took my first solo trip to Guyana in South America post-diagnosis and after twelve months of recovery. Historically, air travel has not been kind to my mental health. I often believed I was well before departure, only to spiral into hypomania that tipped into mania upon arrival, leading to hospitalization for manic-psychosis once I returned home.

It wasn’t until that trip I realized my Bipolar disorder had a predictable travel cycle—one that could be managed with preparation. After speaking with my psychiatrist, I was advised to create a Mental Health Travel Crisis Plan. I had packed every physical item twice for reassurance but hadn’t considered what my mind truly needed.

A week before departure, I began researching and building my plan. Travel can be exhilarating, but it is also emotionally, mentally, and physically exhausting. For those living with Bipolar disorder, it can be unpredictable—even dangerous—triggering Mania or depression. I came to understand that knowledge and preparation are essential travel companions.

In this blog, I’ll share how to recognize travel triggers, outline my lived experience with a travel cycle, and guide you in creating a practical, empowering mental health crisis plan.

Why Travel Can Be a Trigger—Even When It’s Excitement You’re Feeling

Travel challenges anyone’s mental health because of the disruption to daily routine, structure, and sleep patterns. For those with Bipolar disorder, the stakes are higher: the excitement of new experiences can destabilize moods and amplify symptoms. Careful planning helps minimize risks while still embracing the joy of exploration.

Common Travel Triggers for Bipolar Disorder

• Sleep Disruption
  Travel anxiety, jet lag, and changing time zones can disrupt circadian rhythms, often worsening bipolar symptoms. Lack of restful sleep is one of the most common triggers of Mania or depression. A travel sleep schedule, naps, and rest rituals can help re-establish balance.
  
  

• Environmental Change
  Leaving the comfort of home means leaving behind familiar routines that support stability. New environments—whether exciting or overwhelming—can destabilize mood. Building in grounding practices like mindfulness, breathing exercises, or journaling helps ease adjustment.
  
  

• Overstimulation
  Bright city lights, bustling airports, or even serene beaches can overwhelm the senses. Overstimulation often leads to loneliness, irritability, or racing thoughts. Pausing to reset—through journaling, walking, or retreating to quiet spaces—can help restore equilibrium.
  
  

Travel often pressures us to “just enjoy” the experience. But it’s vital to honour your mental health needs first. There will always be future opportunities for travel.

Building Your Travel Crisis Plan and Checklist for Bipolar Disorder

A Mental Health Travel Crisis Plan ensures peace of mind and provides clear steps if symptoms escalate. Paired with a Travel Checklist for Bipolar Disorder, it helps you anticipate challenges before they become crises.

What to Include in Your Mental Health Travel Crisis Plan

• Emergency Contact List: Psychiatrist, therapist, close family or friends, and substitute decision-maker.
  
  

• Preferred Safe Spaces: Local hospitals, clinics, or wellness centres at your destination.
  
  

• Medication List: Updated prescriptions, allergies, extra doses, and storage methods. (Consider blister packs for convenience and reassurance.)
  
  

• Coping Tools: Grounding exercises, playlists, affirmations, journaling prompts, or fitness facilities at your accommodation.
  
  

Travel Checklist for Bipolar Disorder

Track symptoms to stay self-aware and intervene early:

• Depressive symptoms: low mood, excessive sleep, anxiety.
  
  

• Hypomanic symptoms: insomnia, impulsivity, racing thoughts.
  
  

• Mania/psychosis symptoms: hallucinations, aggression, delusions.
  
  

This checklist is not meant to alarm, but to help you recognize your bipolar cycle in new environments and respond proactively.

How to Talk Mental Health and Travel: Preparing Others Without Over-explaining

Traveling with Bipolar disorder often means educating companions or hosts. On my trip to Guyana, I explained to relatives the mood shifts, highs, and lows I’d experience. Many dismissed symptoms as “jet lag,” but I knew they were part of my cycle.

Being transparent about your mental health needs—like requesting quiet accommodations or early check-in—empowers you and fosters understanding. Stigma still surrounds mental illness, but avoiding conversations to make others comfortable can leave you unsupported.

By explaining your needs with honesty, you shift the narrative: people with mental illness are capable of managing both their health and their travel itinerary.

Final Thoughts: Travel Doesn’t Have to Be Perfect to Be Worthwhile

Travel with bipolar disorder has taught me:

• Restful sleep is essential to mental and emotional stability.
  
  

• Mania often disguises itself as excitement and energy—until it crashes.
  
  

• A crisis plan allows flexibility, grace, and recovery when symptoms emerge.
  
  

Some trips require immediate rest; others allow exploration before fatigue sets in. Either way, I’ve learned to see healing as part of the journey, not a setback.

Travel doesn’t need to be perfect to be worthwhile. Crisis planning isn’t expecting the worst—it’s loving yourself enough to be ready.