April Unscripted: Sun's out, symptoms out

April Unscripted – Issue #8 (July 2026)

Hello wonders,

Oh summer, isn’t it the best time of the year!? Longer days. Bright evenings. Warm sun. Beer gardens. Everyone suddenly becoming the happiest version of themselves… WRONG!

Well, no, for the majority this is very much true, but for us bipolar folks, it can be a massive trigger. Where’s the justice, eh?

I only learnt about this this year. 8 years after being diagnosed, I’m now, once again, desperately looking back and analysing all the signs I missed.

Last year, I spent the summer depressed. I thought, “That’s bleak and unfortunate”. This year, my mind said, “Hold my beer” and delivered me a mixed episode.

Medically described as: a highly uncomfortable state where symptoms of mania or hypomania and depression occur simultaneously or in rapid alternation.

The worst of both worlds

I describe it as – well, I actually can’t say. I promised Bipolar UK I wouldn’t swear. But it’s a poop-show, because what do you mean I have all the motivation and hyper-focus that I usually channel into my work and creativity, but I can’t work out for the life of me how to get of the damn sofa?

Perhaps sleeping 13 hours a night will fix it. Nope!

Okay, so now what?

Well, we’re going to channel all that energy and hyper-focus on the most useless and embarrassing hyper-fixation ever. Cool, cool, cool.

And when that’s complete, we’re going to stare into the abyss, tears streaming down my face, still wondering why I CAN’T GET OFF THIS SOFA.

What a sad little horror film.

The group chat saves the day (again)

Some of this paralysing hyper-fixation was put to good use. I began to research why summer does this to us. I also reached out to this wonderful group chat I’m fortunate to be a part of. An incredible bunch of women who also live with bipolar.

All of a sudden, I felt less alone and embarrassed.

Breaking news: community is so important!

I will share the ins and outs of this episode eventually, but at the time of writing, I’m still fighting the brain freeze. So, there’s a level of vulnerability that’s too much, even for me.

Plus, who knows how it’ll end? Famously, endings are the best bit, no?

Fine. I’ll Go Outside.

What I will share is this: every day is another attempt to trick myself off the sofa, and urging myself to wiggle my big toe Uma Thurman in Kill Bill style was simply not working for me.

Sure, I get up to feed my foster kittens in the hope it reminds me that I have to eat too. And yes, I force myself to go on my “stupid little walk”, which I swear isn’t the answer to better mental health. It’s a cop out for the mentally well thinking they’re helping.

But off I trot regardless.

Professional piercers everywhere, look away

In other news, I re-pierced my belly button.

The combination of doing something wildly unnecessary and finally succeeding at a task reminded me I was still part of the world.

Now, before the charity issues another disclaimer – I DO NOT RECOMMEND ANYONE PIERCING ANYTHING UNLESS A PROFESSIONAL IS DOING IT.

I spent a good 20 minutes marvelling at the fact I’d somehow pulled it off before sourcing something considerably more professional to adorn my midriff.

As always, I make light of the situation, but for anyone who is reading this who is also going through a rough summer, it’s scary. I’ve been scared even though my actions have been farcical.

What lies beneath

Beneath the farce is a lot of questions:

• Will I actually come out of this one?
• Is this what every summer is going to be like?
• Will these lost weeks have an irreparable effect on my life?

The most painful part, as I do slowly come out of it, isn’t the episode itself. In the eye of the storm, I was at peace in my undisclosed hyper-fixation.

More tears started to flow when I realise this will, most likely, happen again.

That’s not a negative thought, for me personally, it’s a fact. I’m a rapid cycler.

My tears turned from feeling undoubtedly trapped in my own mind to feeling sorry for that April who has just gone through the storm, because I wholeheartedly see her as someone else.

An unrecognisable April.

The curse of self-awareness

The bittersweet part of this all is booze.

I think previously I turned to alcohol in the summer. My bipolar hiding in plain sight you might say.

Everyone else was drinking more than any other time of year (Christmas excluded. Christmas can do no wrong in my eyes). Everyone was looking for an excuse to grab a drink after work, and it served as a perfect cover. There was always someone I could grab that drink with, and I remained blissfully ignorant of the effect it was having on me.

But now, I’ve had enough therapy to be cursed with self-awareness.

What once was an escape is now a choice between triggering myself, or not. And, on the whole, I choose not.

I know that’s not ground-breaking. I know I should probably stop drinking all together, and I might eventually. But for now, I’m celebrating the fact that my instinct isn’t to turn to the bottle.

Same time next year?

I won’t lie, I’m not sure how I’m going to tackle next summer yet. But I do know third times a charm, and I do know I need to be wary of it. If anyone has any tips or tricks, please reach out!

Once again, we’re all reminded that I’m not an expert. Not in mental illness, and nor am I a qualified piercer.

I think it’s so easy to read articles like this and think: “Oh wow, they really went through it and now they’re out the other side to spread the good word that it does get better.”

Firstly, I've literally just admitted I'm not out of it.

Secondly, all any of us can do is go back to basics. Prioritise sleep. Set alarms to eat and walk.

Finally, if your hyper-fixation isn’t causing you or anyone else harm… succumb to it.

Sometimes you have to let bipolar win the day, so it doesn’t win the week or month.

Take care. We go again tomorrow!

Lots of love,
April x