My journey through homelessness began in the haze of a manic episode. When I walked out of my parents' home in November 2022, I had no idea I would never return. They had always been my safety net, the place I fell back to when mania subsided. But this time was different.

After two weeks on suicide watch, I found myself being discharged from a hospital with nowhere to go. That night, I used all my savings to book a six-week stay in an Airbnb. I told myself I had six weeks to recover from my mania, to find stability. But six weeks wasn’t enough.

Becoming unhoused is disorienting, especially when coupled with the emotional chaos of bipolar disorder. The path out is rarely straightforward—it begins with small, deliberate choices that can either lead to healing or deeper despair.

This is a story about what it means to seek shelter, support, and self while navigating the in-between spaces of homelessness and mental health recovery.

What Is Transitional Housing and Why Does It Matter?

Transitional housing offers temporary, supportive accommodations for individuals and families emerging from homelessness or unstable living situations. It acts as a bridge between crisis and stability.

Unlike emergency shelters—which are typically short-term and provide only basic needs—transitional housing programs offer structured support such as food assistance, case management, life skills training, and access to mental health and addiction services. These programs usually last from several months to a few years, with the ultimate goal being independent, sustainable living.

Transitional housing doesn’t just provide a roof. It offers stability, a space to rebuild routines, and an opportunity to restore one’s dignity.

Finding Transitional Housing While Facing Daily Survival

Six weeks of disillusionment ended on my 40th birthday—the day I officially became homeless. What followed was a blur of police wellness checks, hospital stays, and desperate efforts to find shelter. In January 2023, after a failed attempt by my cousin to house me in a hotel, she and my mental health mentor found a bed for me in a local shelter.

I arrived broken—sick, scared, and unsure of how to cope with this new reality. I feared I would drown in the chaos of managing my mental health while homeless. But I clung to one truth: the shelter was temporary.

For two weeks, I lived in a crowded dorm-style room, sleeping on a top bunk, storing my belongings in a small closet, and stretching on the floor each morning to recover from hospitalization. By the third week, with help from my mentor, Grama Judie, I began my housing search. My case manager was kind and diligent, but finding housing while displaced proved nearly impossible. I often fell short of qualifications by a margin too small to justify my disqualification—yet I persisted.

Then, ten days before I was scheduled to leave the shelter, a miracle happened: my case manager offered me a spot in their transitional housing program. It was a basement apartment in a quiet neighborhood on the city’s north side. I thought it was the blessing I had prayed for.

But not all that glitters is gold.

I lived there for six months—three spent in the hospital, the rest in fear due to dangerous upstairs neighbors. Eventually, I was moved to my current home. It’s a place I love, a place I feel proud to call home, though it’s not permanent. It’s a stepping stone—a space to find stability before finding permanency.

I live in the in-between. Better than where I was, but still far from where I hope to be.

Building a Bridge Back to Life: How Transitional Spaces Can Heal

Transitional housing has been a cornerstone in my healing. Though rebuilding life after homelessness hasn’t been easy, having a place to call mine for the past two years has restored my sense of time, purpose, and identity.

Today, I am in mental health remission. I’m nearly two years sober. I have the support of family, community, and a dedicated case management team. The very people I once saw as barriers have become allies. While they haven’t always disclosed their plans for my future, the decisions made—especially relocating me—have been in my best interest.

Healing in transitional housing is possible. I’m living proof. I’ve learned to trust myself again. I’ve cultivated self-compassion and rebuilt a vision for my life—all because I had access to a safe, supportive space. I now carry tools of resilience, strength, and clarity that guide me toward recovery and future housing stability.

Final Thought: Home Isn’t Just a Place—It’s a Possibility

I’ve known housing insecurity before, but nothing like this. In the past, someone was always there to rescue me. But this time, I had to rescue myself.

Homelessness has taught me that home isn’t merely a physical space—it’s a possibility. It’s the belief that I can live with a mental illness and still hope, still rebuild, still move forward. Living in a shelter stripped away my illusion of security and forced me to face the realities of my illness and its demands.

I once ignored the ongoing needs of my Bipolar disorder, fooled by the comforts of a stable job and a family home. But homelessness reminded me: severe mental illness can leave you living in the in-between, and you must fight to create a life that works with, not against, your reality.

Transitional housing gave me space to learn that. It hasn’t been perfect—I still have good days and bad—but it has been sacred. It’s been mine.

What does home mean to you when you’ve had to live without one? Can you name the people, spaces, or moments that helped you keep going?

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.

Work-life balance is the balance between the time spent working and the time spent on personal activities. It's important for maintaining productivity, mental and physical health and social connection.

It involves prioritizing and managing responsibilities in both your personal and professional life.

It’s about avoiding burnout and feeling overwhelmed.

How to Achieve It:

• Set boundaries between work and personal time.

• Take regular breaks

• Schedule time for personal interests 

• Delegate tasks when possible

• Say no to extra work

• Take vacations

• Practice relaxation techniques like meditation, mindfulness and yoga

The Myth of Work-Life Balance

When I look at the above definition of work-life balance I can’t help but to reflect on the concept. This  term is often used in industries to show support for their employees having both a professional and personal life. Employers encourage their employees to set work aside after the designated “quitting-time” and pour their focus into friends, family, fun and relaxation. Employers show concern about things like burnout and employee turnover and will go so far as to create opportunities for forced social interactions to promote work-life balance in the workplace setting itself–it's all very confusing. It has been my experience after years of working in various industries and trying to balance the management of my Bipolar disorder, a large aspect of my life, work-life balance doesn’t really exist for me and burnout is inevitable. 

When I was “green” in my mental illness I prioritized work over my mental health. I did not have the knowledge and understanding that even when I was experiencing periods of wellness I was not like other people who could burn the candle at both ends. Although I would usually start a work experience strong, I would interview well, I would achieve success the first few weeks or months but the reality of my mental illness would eventually rear its head whether it would come in the form of having to take time off for a depressive episode, feeling overwhelmed by my work load and fearing management would find out about my illness or lacking sleep because anxieties surrounding constant fear of failure and subsequent termination, I never felt a sense of balance at work because of the imbalance due to the presence of mental illness in my life. 

As I got older and more confident in my mental health I took on low-stress positions in industries like food services and retail. I was open about my mental health circumstances and I felt accepted by my co-workers. The problem was however, that I was not stimulated by these positions. Tasks were too easy, staff was too friendly and management behaved as though employees were dispensable.  I took more time off in these industries than any other, allowed myself to wallow in my mental illness rather than practice self-care, medication management or create the structure, routine and habit I needed to get back to work. Again, my life outside of work, my inability to balance my Bipolar disorder conflicted with the work-life balance model practiced in low-stress industries that seemed ideal for someone with a high-stress mental illness.

Work-Life Balance and The Dream

A few years ago I thought I found my dream position as a Peer Support Specialist. Among other requirements, I had to have lived experience with mental illness and the mental healthcare system. This was right up my ally: my employer and co-workers would have first-hand knowledge of mental illnesses such as Bipolar disorder, I would spend my work hours educating clients about experiences that would give them insight and hope on their journey to recovery and wellness and I could spend my personal time without shame or guilt managing my own mental health. My career as a Peer Supporter began well, I thrived and flourished in the role gaining knowledge and understanding of the mental health services sector as well as further understanding of my own illness. Then in March 2020 the pandemic hit and after a brief period of redeployment my department was shut down and I was fired. I was devastated and lost but in the midst of this tragedy I secured another position as a Peer Supporter.

What I did not realize then that I know now was after the trauma of the first position, the pandemic and a relocation I started my new position burnt out and terrified. I was “green Onika” again, putting work before my mental health and my personal life. I forgot that mismanagement of my basic needs like rest, regular psychiatrist appointments, medication management, self-care and setting healthy boundaries at work and home were key pillars in maintaining my mental health and keeping Mania at bay. I took on too much due to a need to impress my superiors and secure a permanent position within the organization. Sleepless nights lead to racing thoughts of daily recrimination and eventual termination. When I should say ‘no’ I found myself saying ‘yes’ overwhelming my exhausted and fragile mind with more than was realistic. I lost my sense of self and purpose. When I finally took a break in the form of vacation I slept so much that upon my return to work I needed to take additional time off due cognitive and emotional dysfunction, extreme exhaustion and dissociation. In an attempt to find my balance I fell hard and fast and I’m still recovering.

Final Thought

Based on my experiences I have come to the following conclusion about how work-life balance plays a role in my Bipolar disorder management: I believe when you dedicate your life to balancing your Bipolar disorder it is not sustainable to maintain a work-life balance that suits standard employment, rather I believe it's possible to practice work-life balance if you find your passion (work) and prioritize your life (mental health) only then does balance come. 

 I consulted several of my working support team members to get their perspective and they say the following regarding work-life balance:

-“Not sure if there is an ideal ratio to achieve balance between work and life or if they are separate or one and the same. But work and life joy need boundaries, it starts with being comfortable with and even appreciating the word “NO” as an acceptable answer to the pressures that come at us. And  by carefully selecting when to use the word “Yes”. Work is part of life, and so is rest. Work is better after rest. And rest always feels good after work. Find the right ratio and repeat the cycle.”- My Support Team Member on Work-Life Balance

-“Work life balance does not exist in the exact sense. I think of it more like homeostasis in the body. It's possible to keep things in a nice range and we can get better (or worse) and identify when we need to tweak things to ebb one way or the other. When we don’t do a great job of that we can set new normals which make our alert systems only go off when things are crazy out of whack. That’s when it takes more concerted efforts and changes to bring things back into range.That said, societally we have established a balance range that is probably pretty out of whack so we have to figure out our own limits to an extent.”-My Support Team Member on Work-Life Balance

-”No. You can’t balance your life and work in today’s economy. The economy forces you to work more so you can have a better quality of life but you have no time to enjoy life. The current state of the economy forces you to work excessively, sometimes in multiple positions just to make ends meet, placing your personal life last place on your priority list which by definition is an imbalance.”-My Support Team Member on Work-Life Balance 

The women quoted in the above statements are employed in various industries and have varying levels of experience with mental health. It is clear however, regardless of the state of your mental health, navigating work-life balance is challenging on the best of days. Work-life balance is not an impossible concept for some and can be achieved in the right circumstances but it is up to the individual to foster these conditions. Ask yourself: “What is my number one priority with work? What are the most important priorities in my life? Can these priorities co-exist or do they clash? For myself, my priority is maintaining stability in my mental health and managing the symptoms of my mental illness and that is a full time job that does not allow for me to prioritize someone else's bottom line. I have decided to focus on projects that I’m passionate about and that can be easily set aside if I experience another mental health crisis. I have let go of the fear of disappointing employers or the worries around not meeting deadlines. In the world of work-life balance I choose life, I choose self-care, I choose finding my version of balance, I choose my mental health and wellness and I choose me.

Creating Structure and Routine

In my previous jobs, I found that arriving early created an environment of structure, routine, and habits that helped me manage my Bipolar symptoms. Working with others can often feel unpredictable, and establishing a routine provides a sense of control amidst the chaos. This was especially vital when the unpredictability of teamwork could trigger my anxiety.

I made it a point to organize my day, prioritize tasks, and carve out quiet time for myself. This practice not only helped me maintain focus but also reduced the likelihood of being overwhelmed by unexpected demands. However, the reality of workplace dynamics often challenged this structure.

Setting Boundaries and Facing Challenges

One of the significant challenges I encountered was setting boundaries. As a Peer Support Specialist in creative meetings, I would often delineate what I could and couldn’t take on, only to find those boundaries crossed repeatedly. During work delegation discussions, I was made to feel that I needed to take on additional tasks, even when my colleagues expressed that they couldn’t. My manager would often seek my assistance directly, despite our prior conversations about what was manageable for me.

This struggle to maintain boundaries created feelings of inadequacy and pressure, making it difficult to prioritize my well-being. The internal conflict of wanting to help but needing to protect my mental health was a source of considerable stress.

Experiencing Shame and Stigma

In my workplace, the stigma surrounding mental health was palpable. For instance, when I took a defined mental health day, which we were all entitled to through our work agreements, I faced shaming from some colleagues. This behavior not only hurt emotionally but also fostered a sense of isolation, making it clear that mental health issues were not openly accepted.

Unfortunately, many people who require wellness time off experience similar stigma. There is a tendency for colleagues and supervisors to perceive those who take mental health days as less capable. This perception can lead to a hostile environment where the individual feels pushed out or unfairly scrutinized. It becomes increasingly difficult to advocate for oneself when it feels as though your worth is being questioned, and in some cases, this scrutiny can result in legal maneuvers that force individuals out of their roles.

Burnout is a serious risk for those managing Bipolar disorder. In my experience, the cumulative effect of stress, unaddressed boundaries, and the lack of supportive responses ultimately led to a significant decline in my mental health. When work becomes a source of distress, it exacerbates Bipolar symptoms, highlighting the importance of recognizing early signs of burnout and addressing them proactively.

A Cautionary Tale

Reflecting on my journey, I remember a time when I was thriving in my role—recognized as a star performer. However, everything changed when I casually mentioned my Bipolar disorder to a colleague. From that moment, I felt the dynamic shift. Colleagues began to view me differently, and ultimately, I was let go from my position. This experience was not only disheartening but also reinforced the importance of corporate culture in supporting employees with mental health conditions.

Seeking Support and Finding the Right Fit

One of the most critical lessons I've learned is to research your potential employer’s corporate culture around mental health before committing to a job. It's vital to ensure that an organization values mental health and provides a supportive environment. Otherwise, you might find yourself set up for failure from the start.

Final Thoughts

Managing Bipolar symptoms at work is undoubtedly challenging, but it is not insurmountable. By creating structure, setting firm boundaries, and advocating for supportive environments, we can mitigate the impact of our condition on our professional lives. Remember that it’s essential to prioritize your mental health and seek workplaces that genuinely support employees’ well-being. Your mental health is an integral part of your overall health, and finding the right fit can make all the difference.

For more on creating structure, routine and habits read my previous post, How to Start Managing Bipolar I Disorder: A Comprehensive Guide. Learn about one of the cornerstones of maintaining good mental health. Remember, you are not alone in your journey so let's continue to have conversations that take us beyond the stigma and into a space where mental health matters. 

The Benefits of Peer Support in Bipolar Recovery

• Community and Connection

• There’s something profoundly comforting about being in a room filled with people who truly understand your struggles. The shared experiences often create an immediate bond that can lighten the emotional load we carry. Sharing your lived experiences and your recovery journey with a supportive peer can be incredibly enriching and empowering for both you and your peer. It reminds how far you’ve come and gives you continued hope for the future. 

• Shared Understanding

• We all have our unique stories, but the underlying themes of anxiety, mood swings, medication management and the quest for stability are often strikingly similar. This shared understanding can foster an environment of empathy, making it easier to open up. Having these important conversations takes you beyond the stigma of mental illness to a place where recovery is possible. 

• Real-Life Strategies

• In peer groups, you hear firsthand accounts of coping mechanisms and survival strategies. It's inspiring to learn how others navigate their highs and lows, providing practical tools that might resonate with your own journey. Remember, not every coping strategy will fit your needs but learning from others can inspire hope and continued motivation on your way to recovery.

The Challenges of Peer Groups

• Oversharing and Trauma

• One of the complexities I’ve encountered is the tendency for oversharing. While it's vital to express ourselves, sometimes stories can be so intense that they leave others in the group feeling vulnerable or overwhelmed. I’ve been in situations where a member’s deep dive into their struggles affected the emotional well-being of others present. There is also the added risk of Trauma Bonding (developing a friendship solely based on your individual trauma experience) with your peers both inside and outside of the group setting. 

• Lack of Professional Facilitation

• Many peer groups are led by individuals without formal training. While their intentions are good, this can lead to unstructured discussions that leave participants feeling lost or unheard. It’s crucial to have someone who can navigate the conversation and keep it productive. Although people experiencing mental health struggles can be considered your peer, not everyone has the professional experience and training to be a Peer Supporter. To receive the designation of a Peer Supporter, there are a series of courses you must complete through organizations like Peer Support Canada in order to take on this role. 

• Potential for Disarray

• I’ve often found that these groups can become disorganized. Conversations may drift off-topic or veer into areas that aren't constructive. Without a clear structure, it’s easy for important issues to remain unresolved, leading to frustration rather than healing. Historically, it's this disorganized format that has lead me away from peer groups into the more structured environment of recovery colleges.

Leveraging Personal Experience as a Peer Support Specialist

Drawing from my experiences as a Peer Support Specialist, I’ve come to appreciate the importance of balance in sharing. While Peer Support can be transformative, I’ve also seen its pitfalls. I once attended a group where a participant shared their story in such detail that it created an atmosphere of discomfort. Reflecting on this, I realized how vital it is to have a trained facilitator who can manage discussions and provide emotional support when the conversation takes a heavy turn.

This is why I advocate for the recovery college method. This structured approach combines Peer Support with psycho-educational components, allowing individuals to share experiences while also gaining essential knowledge in a supportive environment. Recovery colleges offer courses designed to empower participants, creating a more stable space for emotional expression without the chaos that can accompany typical peer groups.

Final Thoughts

While peer groups can be a valuable asset in the Bipolar recovery journey, it's essential to recognize their complexities. The potential for oversharing and the need for professional guidance should not be underestimated. By embracing structured methods like the recovery college approach, we can cultivate a safer environment for healing. If you're contemplating joining a peer group, assess how it aligns with your recovery goals. Try sitting in on your desired peer group and listening and observing the dynamics. If it doesn’t feel like the right fit, move on and keep trying to find a space where you feel safe and comfortable. Remember, it's perfectly okay to seek guidance from your healthcare team to ensure you're getting the support you truly need. You don’t have to navigate this path alone; there are resources available, and you are deserving of a supportive community.