The other night at a lively gathering, I found myself chatting with a woman I had just met, and during the conversation, I revealed that I have authored three memoirs detailing my experiences with bipolar disorder. Her reaction was unexpected; “I’d never have guessed,” she replied with genuine surprise. “You certainly don’t look like you’re bipolar.”
In that moment, I simply thanked her, caught off guard and unable to articulate my thoughts. However, as the evening wore on, her comment lingered in my mind, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of curiosity mixed with confusion about what she truly meant.
It’s a common sentiment that mental illnesses often come with certain stereotypes regarding how those affected might physically present themselves. Take depression, for instance; the typical image might include a sorrowful expression, hunched shoulders, and downcast eyes that reflect an internal struggle. Similarly, individuals facing untreated schizophrenia might appear disheveled—showing signs of neglect in their grooming habits, such as tangled hair or wrinkled clothing. But what does someone with bipolar disorder typically portray? What are those telltale signs?
I imagine it varies significantly based on where one falls on the emotional spectrum. During my manic phases, for instance, I adopt an entirely different appearance, donning vibrant attire that includes lively hues like gold and coral or a playful mix of stripes and eye-catching prints. I radiate confidence and an alluring sense of desirability, and my clothing choices often scream, “Hey, look at me, I’m fabulous.” In these moments, my eye color even shifts, transforming from a simple hazel brown to a striking green flecked with gold, as others have noted.
Conversely, when I’m in the throes of depression, I become a walking embodiment of the New Yorker stereotype. Thank goodness black is a versatile choice; it allows me to project a sense of style, even on days when the weight of despair feels unbearable. At that point, I hardly invest in personal upkeep; I might merely run a comb through my hair—if I muster the energy. Without any makeup and draped in somber, dark hues, my complexion becomes so pale that I resemble someone preparing for a role as a ghost. And given my emotional state, it feels like an accurate representation of how I exist in that moment.
However, during the night of the party where I encountered that woman, I found myself defying those typical stereotypes. Yes, I was wearing a classic little black dress, a timeless piece, but I also complemented it with daring leopard print shoes and an eye-catching bold statement necklace. My outfit didn’t overtly invite attention, yet it also didn’t discourage conversation. Looking back, I can’t quite remember the color of my eyes that evening, but whatever the woman perceived in them, I must have appeared perfectly put together and undoubtedly sane to her.
Perhaps that’s the reason I expressed gratitude. Yet, in hindsight, I wish I could retract that thank you; I longed to challenge her perception with the question, “What exactly does bipolar look like?” It might have put her on the spot, but maybe it would have inspired her to rethink and unravel the stereotypes that box individuals with mental illness into simplistic assumptions.
Engaging in uncomfortable dialogues is crucial, as it allows us to confront the insidious nature of stigma. Stigma regarding mental health, much like racial bias, can be subtle and often affects even those who consider themselves empathetic, educated, and liberal-minded. Imagine encountering someone who identifies openly as bipolar for the first time; it may trigger feelings of apprehension. What will their demeanor be? How will they communicate? Will you find their presence manageable? Such fears often pave the way for unfounded stereotypes.
While this trepidation is understandable, it’s fundamentally flawed and harmful.
The reality is that individuals coping with mental health issues typically do not appear significantly different from the general populace. In fact, statistical evidence highlights that one in five Americans is currently utilizing some form of psychiatric medication. This means your boss, your next-door neighbor, your physician, a family member, or a close friend—many among us have a diagnosis, often hidden beneath the surface. Just because mental illness can be invisible doesn’t imply it doesn’t warrant the same level of respect and dignity afforded to more overt medical conditions.
It isn’t solely the responsibility of the uninformed to eliminate the stigma surrounding mental health. Every individual—yourself included—has an obligation to seize opportunities for enlightening conversations, whether it unfolds in front of an audience or over casual drinks at a party. Let’s challenge societal norms, provoke a little discomfort, for the greater good and understanding of everyone.
