For years, mental health has been a difficult subject to discuss openly within South Asian communities. For those living with bipolar disorder, stigma can make an already challenging experience even harder.
Jevanjot Kaur, who was diagnosed with bipolar disorder in 2007, has experienced the condition through psychosis, depression, relapse and recovery. Her journey has also shown her the importance of family support, professional help and learning to recognise the early warning signs of a relapse.
Mental health affects an estimated 6 to 8 per cent of the Sikh community under the age of 65, according to the British Sikh Report, with higher reported rates among Sikh women. Yet bipolar disorder can often go undiagnosed or remain unacknowledged because of concerns about how an individual or their family may be perceived.
Jevanjot says mental illness can sometimes be attributed within communities to ideas such as black magic or karam, while social pressures can discourage people from seeking help.
“In my experience I have found that most family members have a fear of mental health,” she says, particularly around whether the individual will recover or how they might behave. She also recalls hearing concerns that having a mental health condition could affect a person’s chances of marriage.
When motherhood triggered a crisis
For Jevanjot, the reality of bipolar became clear after the birth of her first child. In 2014, a combination of anxiety and severe sleep deprivation was followed by psychosis and delusions. She was admitted to a mental health hospital, where she felt frightened, vulnerable and isolated and struggled to understand why she had been separated from her baby.
She was later transferred to a specialist mother and baby unit, where she was reunited with her child. With treatment and medication, her mood began to improve.
The experience affected not only Jevanjot but also her husband and their relationship. He struggled with loneliness and confusion and felt there was little support available to him as a carer.
“We both wanted to make the relationship work,” Jevanjot says. The couple sought counselling, which helped them communicate and understand each other better. They also learned that their relationship needed to exist beyond the condition itself.
Her cosultant encouraged them not to make major decisions when angry while her husband reminded her that they should sometimes simply enjoy each other’s company rather than constantly discussing bipolar and how to manage it.
Jevanjot also found that language mattered. She felt that the term “bipolar disorder” carried negative associations and could make her feel labelled. Referring instead to times when she “wasn’t herself” felt kinder and helped their conversations.
Finding a way back through small steps
Over time, practical support became an important part of their recovery. Date nights, walks, coffee trips and spa breaks helped the couple create positive memories together. Support from extended family, the Sikh Helpline and mental health services also gave Jevanjot and her family people to turn to during difficult periods.
Her journey, however, has included further relapses. The deaths of her parents and the birth of her second child were among the experiences that triggered particularly difficult periods.
During one depressive episode, even everyday activities became overwhelming. She struggled to shower, comb her hair and cook. As someone who loved preparing colourful and creative food, losing the ability and enthusiasm to cook was especially painful. She also felt that she was failing as a mother and wife.
Eventually, her negative thoughts escalated and she became suicidal. She withdrew from friends and family for around a year.
Recovery began with small steps. A conversation with a close friend helped her feel reassured, and she began recording every positive thing she accomplished, however small — from brushing her hair to showering or helping prepare a meal.
Learning to recognise the warning signs
Through journalling and cognitive behavioural therapy, Jevanjot learned to slow down and understand her thoughts. She also became more aware of her personal triggers and the early warning signs, or prodromal symptoms, that can precede a relapse.
Together, she and her husband developed a wellness monitoring system to identify changes in her behaviour and mood. Sleep, routine and regular check-ins became particularly important. During periods of increased stimulation, such as family celebrations or holidays, they learned to plan ahead and create quieter spaces when needed.
Jevanjot says self-care has also become part of managing her wellbeing, whether through mindfulness, meditation, walking, yoga, music, cooking or creative activities. She has learned to reduce pressure on herself and approach tasks one step at a time.
Perhaps most importantly, she has learned to be honest about how she feels and to accept that her family is there to support her, even when she may not recognise changes in herself.
Her message to others living with bipolar is one of hope: a difficult period does not last forever. “Don’t be afraid of your diagnosis,” she says. “Try to be open to get support you need. You are not alone, and let those close to you know what support you might need.”
