“It’s like emotions on steroids. They are stronger, larger, all-encompassing and out of control.”

Instability seemed to be a part of my life. Emotions were a rollercoaster and some days I didn’t recognise myself. I had been looking into diagnoses such as borderline personality disorder, but medical professionals were reluctant to listen to another young woman with ‘anxiety and depression’. Despite my distress, I was told that I had mild anxiety and low mood. Nothing more, nothing less.

In February of 2022, I finally managed to talk to a psychiatrist who took my symptoms seriously. She told me that – as well as the SSRIs which I had been taking to lift my mood for years, of which I have tried a few – I should be taking mood stabilisers, to help things feel less like a rollercoaster.

“I was just wondering,” I asked her, “I’ve never really been given a proper diagnosis. Do you have one for me?”

She told me I had cyclothymia.

I hadn’t heard of it before, so I went to Google, spelling it incorrectly on my first few tries.

Cyclothymia is a rare mood disorder similar to Bipolar, often called “Bipolar Light” or “Bipolar type III”. Many sites state that it is less severe than Bipolar I or II, but this doesn’t seem to be the case for me. Rather than my mood swings being less intense, they are simply more frequent; I ‘cycle’ more than someone with Bipolar I or II would, but every mood is as intense as described in the Bipolar I and II diagnoses.

On good days, I am productive, positive and prepared. I face my life as a teacher with excitement and ease. I can get lessons planned, books marked, I can cook actual meals! I interact with my friends and family much more often; I want to leave my flat and see the outside world. I feel more like “myself” on these days.

On bad days, I am the complete opposite, I have lost myself. I stay in bed; I don’t brush my teeth and I only change my clothes if I’m going into work. I’ll go a week without showering when these bad days line up, and every moment of every day feels painful.

It’s not easy. My relationships can be as rocky as my emotions. An ex-partner told me that I take everything too seriously, that I make things worse than they are, and that I overreact. Things didn’t get much better when she’d done some research on cyclothymia, and the relationship ended. When things started going south and she attempted to burn the bridge, I destroyed it.

Later, when the anger had cycled out of my system, I felt overwhelmingly guilty about how I’d gone about expressing my emotions. That’s the problem with a mood disorder which comes with impulsivity: I will follow my impulse and instinct, then feel terrible about it on the downswing. These might seem like normal emotions: most people will feed sad or angry following a breakup – right? But for me, it’s like emotions on steroids. They are stronger, larger, all-encompassing and out of control.

I often find myself wondering whether I will be able to have a “normal” relationship, but all I can do is focus on myself for now.

I manage my cyclothymia with a combination of medication and therapy. I take Fluoxetine in the mornings and Lamotrigine at night; I only started the Lamotrigine in February, and still feel fairly unstable, but I’m optimistic that small changes are happening without me realising.

In terms of therapy, I have had two rounds of CBT prior to my diagnosis, which seemed to work for a while, until I was in the same place again a year later. I was lucky enough to be offered a new form of therapy: MBT, or Mentalisation Based Treatment. This allows me to learn about the act of mentalising, thinking about my emotions, why I feel them, and how I interpret others’ emotions and actions. This is helping me to find a bit more of a balance in my life.

Cyclothymia will most likely affect me for the rest of my life, yet so few people know about it! I’m sure there will be stigma which comes with more people learning about this mood disorder, just like there is with bipolar, but it’s a step in the right direction just for it to be recognised.