Since my bipolar diagnosis, I’ve spent a lot of time worrying about romantic relationships: how to find one, how to act right when I'm in one, how to pick the right one. I've dedicated tons of blog air time to dating and to family because those relationships are my triggers. But I've neglected to address a very important person in many of our lives, an important relationship for people with mental illness: the therapeutic relationship.

Sometimes people with mental illness aren't the most self aware.  Some of us have a tendency to get consumed by our internal drama that it's hard to listen to other people.  We spend so much time listening to our feelings, processing our emotions, talking about ourselves in therapy to figure out how to stay healthy.  I'm not suggesting that we give up time-tested methods of self regulation, but I think that our relationships with others - not always that with ourselves - can tell a bigger picture about our mental health.

Many people aren't good at relationships, particularly at the beginning.  What might be a time of excitement and optimism for the average person can turn to anxiety and depression for someone with bipolar.  In this blog post, I compare the feelings I experience during the beginning of a relationship - in this case, with Erik, a new love interest - with the mood fluctuations of bipolar disorder.

Everyone has a story about a couple they know who've argued openly on Facebook.  Or the person who was ostracized by their followers on Twitter.  Online social networks can bring out the worst in public behavior for some people, spurred on by anonymity and groupthink.  The average person might be plagued by the public nature of social networks.  However, when you have a mental illness, particularly one with a component of anxiety, tools like Twitter and Facebook can become breeding grounds for obsessive behavior.

I’ve always thought I was a good employee: I do good work, on time, and people generally like working with me. I say “generally” because at times in the past I’ve been a moody procrastinator who resists being told what to do. I’ve also burst into tears when given negative feedback from a boss and cursed at a coworker in front of several of our colleagues. Am I losing credibility here?

Many times I've complained that my family doesn't really understand mental illness.  They don't see the difference between depression and being sad, and even those who visited me in the hospital separated my condition from the severity of my surroundings. As hard as I've tried to get my relations to understand my illness, it's even more difficult to get them to see the signs of severe depression in others.

On Monday, I told my psychiatrist that I wanted to start dating again. Since  I said it aloud, it must be true or at least close enough to my conscious mind for it to spill out of my mouth. Though I've had a few bad dates, I haven't had a relationship since before my bipolar diagnosis. So brimming with self-awareness off I go back onto the market...but what am I looking for?

Have you seen the commercials for the new movie, 50-50? If not, here's a synopsis: Guy 1 tells Guy 2 that women will like him better when they find out that he has cancer.  Cut to Guy 2 disclosing his cancer to Girl at the Bar. Now imagine what it would be like to use your mental illness as a pick-up line? Not really the stuff of one-liners, is it?

My last boyfriend had no clue that I suffered from depression. Some people may find that difficult to believe, but it's actually very easy to mask your feelings and symptoms. In my case, it was very easy to choose a partner from whom I could hide the truth and, therefore, to prevent myself from having a healthy and successful relationship.

I consider myself hard to take, stubborn, I'm an over-talker and I don't know when to keep my mouth shut. And I have bipolar so signing up to be my friend is a commitment of which I expect people to tire rapidly. So when I'm having a bad time and someone expresses concern, I know I have a true friend.