Disclaimer: This article is based on research and insights from credible medical professionals, publications, and institutions. It is intended for educational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional diagnosis or treatment. If you believe you may be experiencing symptoms of bipolar disorder, please consult a qualified healthcare provider. 

Let’s get real.

Here at Ebony Emotions, I offer tools, tips, and resources designed to help bipolar folks—especially those in Black and Brown communities—manage our mental health with intention and resilience. But if I’m being completely transparent (and I always strive to be), even with all the strategies I’ve shared, some days are just hard. And on those days? The tools feel out of reach.

A few days ago (though it might be months ago by the time you read this), I got maybe three hours of real sleep. I had just finished finals, worked through the weekend, and by Monday, I couldn’t even open my laptop to write something thoughtful for y’all. My body and my brain were begging me to pause.

I still managed to squeeze in a workout and a walk, but I couldn’t shake the guilt of not writing. That’s when I stopped and listened: You need rest. So I gave myself what I needed. I took a shower, ate a meal, read for a bit, and went to bed early. No work. No pushing. Just rest. And I’m grateful I honored that.

There are other days when I wake up already irritated. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I stay in my room. I forget about my noon rule (you can read more about that in my routine article). I’ll go half the day without brushing my teeth or washing my face. Sometimes, I even neglect my hair—which, if you know me, says a lot. These are small things, but when you’re in a low, they feel like mountains.

I try not to beat myself up about these things, but sometimes, I still do.

Anyone living with bipolar disorder understands this rhythm: when things are good, they’re really good—and when they’re bad, they can feel unbearable. It’s called mood dysregulation, and it’s common in both bipolar I and bipolar II diagnoses (National Institute of Mental Health [NIMH], 2022). That’s why I’ve learned to tell myself: “Tomorrow might be better.” That gentle reminder is an act of self-compassion, and it allows me to reset without shame.

Sometimes my mood shift isn’t just internal. I can be thrown off by the weight of the world: another school shooting. Another headline full of grief.  And it’s a hard thing to carry—especially when you’re already fighting your own mind.

So I forgive myself. I release the pressure to perform. I listen to what my body and spirit need.

I turn on my Gospel playlist on Apple Music (when I feel like it), or I listen to artists who make me feel good—Solange, Maxwell, Chris Brown, Lil Wayne, Drake, or Tupac. His album Me Against the World gets heavy rotation on days when I’m barely holding it together. That music, those lyrics—they become medicine.

No matter how well I plan, there are still days when the plan doesn’t work. And that’s okay. It doesn’t make me less worthy. It makes me human.

When I feel a hard day creeping in, I ask my God for strength. Some of y’all may pray to your ancestors or speak to the universe. However you connect, honor that. It matters. It grounds you. For me, faith is an anchor—even though I wrestle with it sometimes because of this illness. I still lean on it heavily. Without it, I honestly wouldn’t have made it through.

I’m not a pastor, but there’s a scripture that carries me:

“Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning” (Psalm 30:5, King James Version).

That verse stays close to my heart. I return to it when I feel myself slipping.

When the Tools Feel Out of Reach, Keep It Simple:

Here’s what I do when my capacity is low:

• Pray, meditate, or stretch — give your spirit a gentle start

• Play uplifting music — sound therapy is real

• Journal — even if it’s just one honest sentence

• Eat something nourishing — food fuels mood

• Take a shower — water has a way of washing heaviness away

• Rest — you’re not lazy, you’re exhausted

These small acts are acts of care. And on the hardest days, care is what we need most—not perfection.

Let your routine meet you where you are. Some days, just surviving is thriving.

As rapper GloRilla said in her song Tomorrow 2:

“Every day the sun won’t shine, but that’s why I love tomorrow.”
(Side note: I had the chance to meet and interview GloRilla during my journalism days—Tomorrow 2 hits deep, because it’s true).

So wherever you are right now—whether you’re in bed, at work, in a manic high, or a depressive low—please be kind to yourself. You’re not alone. And the hard days don’t last forever.

You’re still here. Still breathing. And better days are coming.

References: 

King James Bible. (n.d.). Psalm 30:5. https://www.kingjamesbibleonline.org/Psalms-30-5/

National Institute of Mental Health. (2022). Bipolar Disorder. National Institute of Mental Health. https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/topics/bipolar-disorder