An Open Letter to Anyone Who Loves Someone with a Mental Illness

A little more than a year ago…after 10 years of not dating…I put a toe back into the online dating pond reluctantly. It wasn't just because online dating is, well, online dating. I knew I was in for the usual work and annoying scenarios that come along with meeting men online. No, the reason I was so reluctant is because I have bipolar. I'm a lot, as they say.

When I imagined first dates, I cringed at how I would explain that I struggle with my mental health daily. I was sure that any guy would run for the hills.Then, after a few months of sporadic dates, I met Brian. He was patient and kind. He reminded me of home, with his Texas drawl. He was never in a hurry, whereas I'm always in a hurry. He's painfully shy to my outgoing self. I could see him balancing me out…the yin to my yang.

After just one date, I had a sneaking suspicion he was all the things I was looking for. After our second date, I wished I'd thrown my bipolar status into my online dating profile. It could've slipped in right next to where I went to grad school, right? Thankfully, with the help of my therapist, I settled on letting Brian know about my mental health status on our third date. I figured it was only fair.So, after a delicious breakfast, I dropped what I thought might be the ultimate dealbreaker.'I've got to tell you something,” I said.

Brian looked back at me wide-eyed, with no clue where I was going with that leading statement.'I have bipolar,” I said, my voice shaking a little.He reached across the table and held my hand. 'Just tell me what to do,” he replied. 'Let me know what you need.”This was the simplest and sweetest thing that anyone could've said to me, and I count myself as truly lucky to have found someone so supportive of my mental health struggles. In the past year of dating Brian, I've learned a few other incredible ways Brian shows up for me and supports me through good times and bad. My hope is that sharing them here will help others who love someone with a mental illness be the supportive, loving partner they want to be.

Lesson No. 1: The littlest gestures are sometimes the biggest.

When I first told Brian about my bipolar and he reached across the table to simply hold my hand, it was instantly calming. That one small gesture put me at ease, helped me breathe a little deeper, and let me know without words that he was listening with compassion…all any of us sharing something tough can hope for. Luckily, Brian still holds my hand…something that's especially helpful when I'm feeling frazzled or having a tough day. It's his way of just letting me know that he's there. No need to talk. With that one little move, I know he's got my back.

Lesson No. 2: A simple, 'Hey, how are you?” goes a long way.

Brian checks in with me every day. He looks me in the eyes and simply asks me how I'm feeling. This may not sound like much, but it helps immensely…mostly because oftentimes I've forgotten to check in with myself. Brian sometimes even asks me if I'm doing too much and if I need to slow down. (I usually do.)

Lesson No. 3: Patience is the best gift you can give someone who's struggling.

Less than a year into our relationship, I was diagnosed with cancer. As you might imagine, navigating chemotherapy and a partial mastectomy didn't exactly do wonders for my emotional state.

Throughout it all, Brian has patiently been by my side. He's been my rock, always seeing the light at the end of the tunnel when I wasn't so sure everything would work out.The months since my cancer diagnosis have been some of the toughest of my life…times that have put a strain on our relationship. We've fought. We've cried. We've held hands. And through it all, Brian has even told me he wants to marry me…maybe even because of all of the things that have made me a lot, as they say.