“I hope to be the validation for others I never got.”

I first came across cyclothymia when I Googled ‘Bipolar Type 3’ as a joke… and so much of my life just made sense. I guess something in me knew that something was wrong, something not explained in any way by anxiety or depression or my recently-discovered neurodivergence.

I used to be accused of over-thinking as a kid, but not in an anxious way- I’d try to think outside the box and do things in ways no one had done before- even if it was only to complete a maths question. That could be explained by my ADHD or Pathological Demand Avoidance (I’ll get to this later) but as I got older and life got more stressful, I’d frequently find my thoughts racing with ideas on how to better my city, ideas on how to better care for the environment and charities I wanted to set up to solve every problem in the world.

Of course I believed I could do all of these things, even if these thoughts made it impossible to focus on the task at hand. I’d get so stressed I’d avoid it entirely once the buzz of what I now know to be hypomanic excitement passed, leading to a kind of discouragement that made it an excruciating effort to do anything really, including brush my teeth or eat food.

The depression side of things is a bit unusual for me, but I think that’s the thing with cyclothymia, it’s so contrary to the descriptions of depression we’re taught to look out for. It’s a bone-deep exhaustion that makes me feel stuck in place, still with all of my ambitions to do everything I want to but unable to find the executive function to stop scrolling, get up, make decisions, or start conversations, even though I really want to and know if I can just make myself start, it’ll energise me just that little bit to do a few things and later relax and get some sleep.

I still manage to do the bare minimum anyway, and I can enthusiastically respond to conversation if someone else starts it. I just don’t really feel anything but the memory of excitement from far-off dreams and a slowly building frustration.

Eventually I get so irritable I snap and find the energy to change the unbearable pattern I’m living make all the decisions I wanted to, but never managed to; start shocking conversations and drop bombs. I feel lighter, and feel like I can do anything.

Often it comes from a glimpse of hope in a new place or connection with someone I’m hanging out with, and I realise ‘I can do this’. And the cycle repeats. It may complete itself in a day, or a year. Often I’ll have multiple of these cyclic waves going on at once—don’t ask me how I can have multiple moods at once, I’ve heard it could be an ADHD thing but all I know is it happens.

Most of the time I have what are called ‘mixed episodes’ which involve some aspects of hypomania and some aspects of mild depression and are the reason I falsely thought I couldn’t have bipolar, when in fact mixed symptoms are very common in people with all types of bipolar, including its ‘less severe’ cousin cyclothymia.

They’re what put us at such a high risk of suicide, and when I have had suicidal thoughts they mostly occur when I’m experiencing mixed symptoms, along with most of my autistic meltdowns too.

My symptoms are muted; I mask them well around other people and as I mechanically get through all the tasks I have to do. I guess I don’t let my feelings dictate my life; I survive off routine and using the momentum from each high to power through the nearest low. At least, most of the time this is true.

I feel really privileged that my symptoms are mild enough to ‘function’ and that I’m still in control of myself when I’m buzzing with ideas or dragging myself uphill through what feels like thick mud. But it’s a double edged sword, because people see me as energetic and functional and still in control of myself. I can’t be struggling, right? I can easily mirror the energy of people I interact with if we connect well enough, and use my secondhand experience of their mood to tether myself to reality.

I don’t know if my dissociative empathy is a cyclothymia thing, and I think my social mimicry comes from the pathological demand avoidance. But it keeps me going and skilled at understanding a wide range of experiences of different people and them helping them communicate with each other on a deeper level. And it’s ironic, because that’s what I really want.

Deep down I know that I’m not okay, and that’s why I make the decisions I do to prioritise my mental health—and where possible, others’ as well. Because if I can look fine on the surface, so can they.

The hours before I fall asleep are hardest for me as I’ve run out of energy to mask. I don’t feel worthless, but I do get anxious if I feel like I’ve got a lot of things to do. And I feel a deep emptiness when I long to feel something, some sort of connection rather than the grind of things to do. Or I’m energised by something that happened during the day and I finally get to process it, and I just end up having idea after idea that gets better and better and the more I write them down, the more ideas I have.

It’s annoying because it steals my rest but I have had a lot of good ideas this way. And I’ve learned to take advantage of this, but also to allow myself some processing time earlier in the day to try and exhaust myself and get the ideas out before I start to feel like I should be sleeping, and I’m running late.

I have a theory where I think my cyclothymia developed as a coping method for my nervous system. I have pathological demand avoidance (currently considered a profile of autism that’s only recognised in some countries; where I am I can’t get an official diagnosis for it, only autism which I don’t meet the criteria for unless it’s rewritten from a PDA lens) meaning I have a survival drive for autonomy and need high levels of connection.

I’ve spent much of my life with unmet needs and in cycles of burnout from constant nervous system activation. But I also get a buzz from times where I feel capable and where as a child I was able to ‘earn’ autonomy by showing my capability to others, and I think that was the start of the hypomania, piggybacking on my existing ADHD hyperactivity.

I know cyclothymia isn’t supposedly caused by environmental factors, but I know depression can be, and I think I just happened to have a brain that survives by bouncing the other way after being depressed.

I’ve talked to my psychologist and my psychiatrist about cyclothymia and they were both really chill with the likelihood I have it; my ADHD meds aren’t a problem and I manage my symptoms well enough and am starting to figure out how to recognise the thinking and behaviour patterns that exacerbate the cycle and instead lean into what needs my body is making me aware of at all points and work on getting them met. I am capable of that, even if it’s a slow process.

I’m still not properly diagnosed though, and honestly don’t know how I’d go about getting an official diagnosis—but I expect it’ll come with time if it needs to, as I slowly learn to unpack all that goes on in my head I’ve spent years unaware of with professionals trained to help me navigate it.

As well as managing my complex brain, I am a full time student four months off completing my thesis, and I also work part time in a field I’m passionate about and help run a hobby farm.

My cyclothymia does impact my relationships though—I’m either constantly masking around most people who don’t have the capacity to get to know my struggles in a respectful way, or they see what really goes on and get bewildered, weirded out and concerned. Still, I’m good with people and things rarely get so bad that the relationship breaks down, but it has happened.

I used to feel dishonest and guilty for how well I function in society and professionally despite everything, now I see it as a leg-up to doing better I’m immensely grateful for. It’s bittersweet and does make me mad, but being included in society and having people believe in me, even if they only know the face I put on during the day, does infiltrate to my beliefs about myself. I feel less desperate for an escape than I ever have.

I still sometimes take my frustration out on myself, but I have healthier outlets for it now that I know it’s the same energy that drives my need to create a better life for everyone around me, and myself. Because when I do, the exasperated longing for death and physical suffering I have as a result of the pent-up frustration and self-destructive energy dissipates just a little. And I can feel enough to sit still and grieve everything I’ve gone through, with hope, for a better and more survivable future.

If I get there, I’ll keep using whatever gifts I have that power me in this direction to create more understanding and inclusion for the community of people I’m in with invisible struggles that others are often quick to judge or pretend don’t exist. It’s the least I can do.

I hope to be the validation for others I never got, and pass on the gift of inclusion and respect that our ableist society so often doesn’t understand.