The first night I spent in a shelter came after a 72-hour hold in a psychiatric unit. I was still mid-mania—hearing voices, paranoid, and overstimulated. The flickering fluorescent lights, the shuffle of strangers outside my door, and the clanging pipes in the walls felt threatening. At 11:00 p.m., the lights went out. But sleep didn’t come easily. I curled into a ball on the top bunk, silent tears running down my face. I realized: I no longer had a home. This shelter bed was it.

That was episode eight out of thirteen manic-psychotic episodes I’ve experienced so far. Mania is an emotionally explosive ordeal that can last weeks or months, leaving behind confusion, guilt, and exhaustion for both the person and their loved ones. Recovery typically takes 6–8 weeks—and requires peace and stability. Neither of those is easy to find in the chaos of a homeless shelter.

This blog explores what it means to reclaim mental clarity, dignity, and self-worth while navigating bipolar disorder recovery in short-term transitional housing. It’s my lived experience—and it may reflect the reality of many others still trying to find their way back from the in-between.

Navigating the Noise: Recovering from Mania in a Homeless Shelter

The one thing I remember most about shelter life was the noise—constant and unrelenting. Even at night, the old building echoed with sounds: pipes banging, doors slamming, conversations at all hours. Privacy was nonexistent. Healing felt impossible.

Every morning at 5:00 a.m., I would quietly climb down from my bunk, my body still aching from restraints and trauma. I’d stretch on a small patch of floor—my first attempt at creating routine. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

Recovering from mania in a homeless shelter was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I was surrounded by women hardened by survival—many also dealing with mental illness, addiction, and housing insecurity. Trust was rare, softness even rarer. These were women who had spent years on the streets and only came to shelters when the cold became unbearable.

I’m someone who wants to help others. But in that moment, I had to focus on protecting myself—emotionally, physically, mentally. There’s a certain shame and hopelessness that comes with being mentally ill and unhoused. Still, I had people in my corner—my tribe—cheering me on from a distance. That helped me survive the noise.

Small Rituals, Big Impact: Coping Strategies for Bipolar Disorder in Transitional Housing

After a few weeks, the fog began to lift. My mornings started with deep breathing, stretching, and journaling at the kitchen table before the noise of the day took over. These grounding rituals helped me feel safe in a place that often wasn’t.

Shelter life had its own rhythm. I’d make coffee while a staff member cooked breakfast. Lunch followed at noon. After dinner, each resident was assigned a cleaning task—kitchen, bathroom, or living room duties.

I began to make small choices to support my healing: eating better, wearing clothes that made me feel like myself, getting my hair and nails done with help from Grama Judie, and going to church on Sundays to remember that God still had a plan for me.

During the day, I worked from the business office searching for housing, making calls to mental health programs, and putting myself on waitlists for case management. With two weeks left at the shelter, I secured both a transitional housing unit and a dedicated mental health worker.

Coping with bipolar disorder in transitional housing required structure, routine, and flexibility. It meant showing up daily, choosing peace over chaos, and creating new habits in a temporary space. It also meant believing that things could, and would, get better.

Support Looks Different Here: Mental Health in Shelter Communities

In shelters, support looks different—and sharing too much can put you at risk. Vulnerability is necessary for healing, but it can also open doors to exploitation. Material envy, emotional manipulation, or trauma bonding are real dangers in this environment.

Setting boundaries is key. Be mindful of what you share and with whom. Choose connections rooted in mutual respect and emotional safety. These relationships may not be lifelong, but they can serve as powerful reminders that you're not alone in your fight for recovery.

Not every person in a shelter is safe to trust. But some will surprise you with their kindness, their grit, and their capacity to understand. Build wisely.

Final Thought: Recovery Isn’t Linear—Especially in a Shelter

Recovery doesn’t follow a straight path. It’s messy, unpredictable, and often nothing like you imagined. Mine was public, painful, humbling—and ultimately, transformative.

My time in the shelter system wasn’t what I wanted. But it gave me something I needed: a new perspective, self-awareness, and undeniable proof that I could survive instability and build stability anyway.

To the women I met there—the ones who challenged me, supported me, and reminded me of who I am—thank you. You’re a part of my story now.

From my first manic-psychotic episode to my most recent, life often felt as though it had flipped upside-down—and I had no idea how to right myself. For nearly 20 years, I let life happen to me. My responses—both uplifting and self-destructive—set in motion a series of events I didn’t recognize then as tests of my strength and emotional stability. Looking back now, I understand: it's not what happens to you, but how you react that defines your healing and growth.

Diagnosis, Grief, and Emotional Extremes

When I was diagnosed with Bipolar I disorder in 2006, I was an Honours graduate from Carleton University mourning the death of my grandmother—my soulmate—who passed away on my 22nd birthday. My life became a complex mix of achievement and sorrow, dreams and heartbreak. Caught between extremes, I turned to substances to dull the weight of my emotions. It was a way to escape the reality of bipolar disorder—a way to exist in the numb void between joy and grief.

This emotional polarity became a recurring pattern. Yet even in moments of despair, I made positive choices and showed resilience. Still, adversity never strayed far.

Recovery, Remission, Relapse, and Resilience

After four years of remission, I was accepted into a graduate diploma program at Humber College. Life felt balanced again. I was proud and optimistic.

Then, just three months into the program, my six-year relationship ended—followed the next day by my nomination as Event Management Chair, overseeing one of the college’s most important events. Once again, I found myself in a bittersweet place: standing in success while mourning loss.

Instead of confronting the pain, I returned to self-medicating. I sought the numbing void between overwhelmed and empty. By the end of the term, I suffered my first manic-psychotic episode in four years and was hospitalized.

Recovery came slowly. Through structure, routine, and healthy habits, I found stability and space to reflect:
How did I fall so far, so fast? Why hadn’t I learned from the past? Why was my instinct to run from pain rather than grow through it?

I no longer trusted myself. My self-worth was low. Doing what was easy—what was wrong—was easier than doing what was right. That’s when I knew I needed to begin the hard work of self-awareness, self-love, and emotional healing.

It took three years, two internships, another hospitalization, summer school, night school, and a relentless inner fire—but I graduated from my PR and Communications program. One teacher described me as “a tenacious student who would find success in her future.” I’ve come to believe that when life happens to you, your reaction—your resilience—is what shapes your future.

Then There Was COVID-19

By 2020, I was in my longest remission since being diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I had spent seven years in Toronto, supported by an incredible social worker and a 23-member outpatient care team. I was thriving, training as a Peer Support Specialist at a hospital’s Recovery College, and immersed in psychoeducation, trauma therapy, and self-care practices. I created a Crisis Plan (WRAP) and medical directive, sharing it with friends, family, my medical team, and employer.

Then came March 2020. The world changed.

I remember walking to Recovery College that morning feeling healthy, happy, and whole. By evening, I was stockpiling supplies, preparing for an indefinite lockdown. The country was in crisis. Fear and uncertainty filled every space.

Soon after, I was redeployed by my hospital to support frontline efforts. I was assigned to the ER. While part of me was relieved to leave the isolation of my apartment, a larger part trembled with fear—of the virus, the unknown, and what the hospital would ask of me.

After two weeks, I was exhausted but useful. I was adjusting. Then an email invited the Recovery College team to a virtual meeting. There, we were all laid off. The entire program was being dissolved.

In that moment—unaware I was the one screaming until a colleague mentioned it—I unleashed years of fear, anxiety, betrayal, grief, and pain. My emotional response was immediate and overwhelming. Everything I had built began to unravel.

Peace turned to turmoil. Wellness to relapse. Stability to chaos. Hope to heartbreak.

It’s Not What Happens to You, But How You React

So, how do you face a mountain of disillusionment built from a global pandemic and a mood disorder triggered by stress, trauma, isolation, grief, instability, and loss?

How do you react when mental health, emotional wellness, and everything you’ve worked for feel like they’re slipping away?

I’ll continue this journey of reflection and healing in Part 2.

Join me Saturday, August 2, 2025, as I share what came next—how I chose to respond when tested in ways I never imagined.

In this blog, you’ll hear from women who have been through the highs and lows of Bipolar disorder and how embracing gratitude has helped them heal. Whether you’re newly diagnosed or have been managing Bipolar disorder for years, these stories offer hope and practical tips for incorporating gratitude into your own life. Let’s dive in!

What is Bipolar Disorder? Understanding the Basics

Bipolar disorder is a mental health condition that causes extreme mood swings, ranging from emotional highs (Mania) to deep lows (Depression). There are different types—Bipolar I, Bipolar II, and Cyclothymia—but for many women, the emotional rollercoaster can feel overwhelming.

For women, Bipolar disorder can be especially tough due to hormonal changes that affect mood stability. From menstrual cycles to pregnancy and menopause, these hormonal shifts can make the symptoms of Bipolar even more unpredictable. It’s a daily struggle, but there are ways to manage it, and gratitude can be one of those tools.

The Science Behind Gratitude and Mental Health

Gratitude isn’t just about being polite. It actually changes your brain chemistry. When you practice gratitude, your brain releases dopamine and serotonin—those feel-good chemicals that help improve your mood. Studies have shown that people who regularly practice gratitude experience less stress, better sleep, and higher levels of happiness.

For women with Bipolar disorder, practicing gratitude can help build emotional resilience. By focusing on what’s going right, even during tough times, you can shift your perspective and reduce the intensity of depressive episodes.

Personal Stories: Starting with Me

Gratitude Journaling During Depressive Episodes
When I’m feeling low, it’s hard to see anything positive. But I keep a gratitude journal to help me through those times. Every day, I write down three things I’m grateful for, no matter how small. Sometimes it’s as simple as being thankful for a warm cup of coffee or a call from a friend. This small practice keeps me grounded and helps me shift my focus from what’s wrong to what’s right.

Daily Acts of Appreciation to Stabilize Mood
I once had a romantic partner who always said, “Thanks, I appreciate you” to everyone—whether it was a server at a restaurant or a cashier at the grocery store. That stuck with me. Now, I say it all the time, to friends, family, and even strangers. It’s a simple way to spread positivity, and it’s amazing how something so small can lift my mood on difficult days.

Finding Gratitude in Mania
During manic episodes, gratitude can feel out of reach. I often feel paranoid, unsure of who’s on my side. In those moments, I look to my faith to help me overcome feelings of hopelessness knowing that there is something greater than myself guiding me through the rough times which keeps me in a space of gratitude because  I’m still alive and still fighting. I also rely on my mental health mentor to remind me that even when I’m unwell, there are still things to be grateful for. Having someone else help me see the good keeps me rooted, even when I can’t see it myself.

Practical Ways to Incorporate Gratitude into Your Recovery

Incorporating gratitude into your life doesn’t have to be complicated. Here are a few simple ways to get started:

• Gratitude Journaling: Start by writing down three things you’re grateful for each day. Don’t overthink it—anything from a sunny day to a supportive friend counts.

• Mindfulness and Gratitude: Being present in the moment is a form of gratitude. Take time to notice the little things, whether it’s the sound of birds chirping or the taste of your favorite meal.

• Small Gratitude Habits: Try saying “thank you, I appreciate you” to the people around you. It’s a small gesture, but it can shift your mindset and brighten someone else’s day too.

Overcoming Challenges: When Gratitude Feels Impossible

There will be days when finding gratitude feels impossible, especially during depressive episodes. It’s okay to feel that way. Gratitude isn’t about ignoring the pain or pretending everything’s fine—it’s about acknowledging the good, even in the midst of hardship.

In these moments, therapy and support groups can help. Talking through your struggles with a therapist or peers can provide new perspectives, making it easier to see the silver linings. And remember, it’s okay to give yourself grace. No one feels grateful 100% of the time, and that’s perfectly normal.

How Gratitude Can Improve Relationships for Women with Bipolar Disorder

Gratitude has a ripple effect on the people around you. By expressing appreciation to friends, family, and romantic partners, you strengthen those bonds and build trust. This is especially important for women with Bipolar disorder, as our loved ones often bear the brunt of our mood swings. Taking time to show gratitude for their support can go a long way in maintaining healthy relationships.

Whether it’s a simple “thank you” or a random act of kindness, incorporating gratitude into your relationships can improve communication and create deeper connections.

Final Thoughts

Gratitude may seem like a small thing, but as these personal stories show, it has the power to transform your mental health and relationships. For women managing Bipolar disorder, gratitude can be a grounding practice that provides hope, even on the hardest days.

Whether you start with a gratitude journal or a simple daily “thank you, I appreciate you” to someone who needs to hear it, the key is consistency. Gratitude is a practice, and with time, it can shift your mindset in powerful ways. Remember, recovery is a journey, and it’s important to be grateful for every small step toward your ultimate goal of wellness. 

Wishing you a Thanksgiving filled with family, feasting and gratitude!