Relocation and Mental Health

This past week a former student of mine posted on Facebook several writings about the harm conversion therapy has on a human. He talked about how he has become the doctor he wish he had when he was young and dealing with similar concerns. His post, along with my current mental state, got me to thinking about this post.

Before the move, one thing I did was watch videos from people who had already relocated to various countries. While many topics were covered—and often overlapped—I realized I missed one important element: what does such a major life change do to someone living with a mental illness?

Like in many situations in life, we often act as if it doesn’t exist. If you don’t have a mental illness, it’s easy to put your head in the sand and assume no one around you could possibly be suffering. For those of us who do, we work hard to manage that information. We tell those who need to know and try to ensure others never find out. And many times, people become scared of you because you have a mental illness. The same goes for people making videos—it’s rarely discussed. However, it’s extremely important to consider before making such a move. I know my own mental health (or lack thereof) has been negatively impacted by this experience.

Since mid-December, I have been existing in a state of depression. For the most part, it’s not overwhelming, and I can manage it, but it feels like a dark cloud looming over me, changing the way I see life—creating a kind of lens of doom. Over the past three weeks, however, I’ve experienced more severe episodes. During these times, I stay in bed and wish life would simply pass me by. I grow darker. After a few days, the intensity fades, but I still remain below zero.

Ten years ago, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I think many people assume they understand what bipolar is, but haven’t really looked into it (this included my own family). I didn’t know much about it until I received the diagnosis. Since then, I’ve read and learned a great deal. Bipolar disorder is much more than moodiness. To start, it is incurable—you don’t simply “get over it.” It stems from differences in brain function that affect how certain chemicals are regulated. These imbalances contribute to the cycles of mania and depression. Scientific studies has indicated that one’s brain is damaged from each episode and that people with bi-polar disorder are die ten years younger than the average person.

Starting simple. Let’s think of life as a number line, with zero representing a baseline. That’s where people without bipolar disorder generally exist. Above zero are the positives—where hypomania and mania occur. Below zero are the negatives, representing depression. The further you move in either direction, the more intense the experience becomes. Some people with bipolar disorder experience extreme highs and lows, while others may experience more intensity on one side than the other.

Just because someone isn’t constantly taking extreme risks or isolating themselves in a dark room 24/7 doesn’t mean everything is fine. I understand this can be confusing. So let’s compare it to physical health.

Imagine two people living in a fifth-floor apartment with no elevator—only stairs. One day, Red breaks their foot and must wear a boot and use crutches. At first, it’s very difficult for Red to get up and down the stairs, and they need help from Green. After a couple of weeks, Red can manage the stairs independently.

One day, as they enter the apartment, Red mentions how hard it was to climb the stairs. Green responds, “I know what you mean—I’m out of breath from carrying groceries.” Red looks at Green in disbelief. Being out of breath is not the same as climbing five flights of stairs with a broken foot. Red tries to explain, but eventually gives up because Green keeps trying to match the experience with their own.

Two weeks later, Red mentions their foot hurts after climbing the stairs. Green says they don’t understand—Red didn’t complain yesterday. Red tries to explain that their foot always hurts, but most days it’s manageable. That day, however, it hurt more than usual. Green still doesn’t understand.

Mental health is similar. We can’t simply turn symptoms on and off like a switch. No two people have the same experience—even with the same diagnosis. It can be difficult for others to understand why one day we seem fine and the next we are struggling deeply or suddenly convinced we’re going to write the next great Uruguayan novel.

If someone close to you is living with a mental health condition, take time to educate yourself. If your partner were diagnosed with something like pancreatic cancer, you would likely learn everything you could. Mental health deserves the same effort. Read, watch, and learn—just be sure your sources are accurate. You taking the time to learn and understand will go far and mean so much.

If you know someone with a mental health condition, ask if they’re open to questions. If they are, that’s great. As long as the questions are respectful, many of us are willing to share. While we were visiting family in June, my brother-in-law started asking me questions. He wanted to understand. He asked what it was like, what type of medicines did I take, and if there a cure. He wanted to understand. It was amazing.

So what does this have to do with our move? Quite a lot. The transition has taken a significant toll on my mental health—more than I expected. My depressive episodes have become more frequent and more severe. I’ve realized that my support system here is much smaller. The isolation feeds the downward pull of depression and continues the cycle.

If you’re still in the States and thinking about moving abroad while managing a mental health condition, I strongly encourage you to talk with your doctors—both medical and mental health professionals—before making a final decision. I didn’t have strong support in that area before we left, and it would have been helpful to walk through a “checklist” of things to consider.

I’m not saying I would have made a different choice. But going through an exercise like that might have helped me prepare more fully.

Cheers to another day for the sun will come out tomorrow.

Thank you for sticking with me.

Be kind to yourself. Be kind to each other.