Content warning: This article discusses bipolar disorder.

Margaret is a Black non-binary parent living with bipolar disorder and PTSD. They live at the confluence of two rivers in Oregon and enjoy hiking and dispersed camping. They first experienced postpartum depression at age 23 after the birth of their first child. Then three years later, “really big life stuff was happening and my responses were so extreme,” Margaret explained. “I have two kids and they were three and four when I first started to spend all my time in bed. I think I felt embarrassed. I didn’t know anyone else who had depression.” 

Except that wasn’t the correct diagnosis. Margaret began taking an antidepressant but that treatment plan soon backfired. “At first it was really good,” they said. “Then it was bad. It’s very normal for people with bipolar to be misdiagnosed with severe depression and placed on antidepressants, but because the medication doesn’t address the mania, it can be really harmful.” It felt like their brain was overriding everything when they were in a manic state. It also felt like everyone around them was pointing out the wrongness of their behavior. Eventually Margaret received the right diagnosis and medication. 

Their medical team is now the backbone of their support system. Margaret’s therapist and psychiatrist are both women of color— Asian and Indigenous, respectively. They have been a tremendous source of support for Margaret, who lives in a primarily white suburb. “I tend to try to make sure that the people I lean on most are medical professionals,” said Margaret. “That’s what they’re there for.” 

Building their support system took time, a lot of trial and error and years of living with bipolar disorder. Close friends helped them figure out boundaries and the impact of trauma dumping on people who are poorly equipped to respond and who are also dealing with their own trauma. “It’s important to make the load more equitable,” Margaret explained. “Not leaning heavily on people who don't have medical training is a part of that.” 

Nowadays, they are able to leverage 11 years of experience dealing with their mental illness.  “I try to make sure I have the skills and tools to do much of the work by myself,” they added. ”We have a plan in place.”

Nature is also part of their mental health care. “It’s such a safe, calm space for me to exist as a human,” Margaret added. Spending time outdoors isn’t a substitute for therapy or medication, however it is a place where they feel “content and comfortable.” 

Their first camping trip was seven years ago with their partner at the time. Margaret was experiencing depression symptoms and did not want to go. “I was like, nothing is going to make me feel better,” they recalled. “I remember us going. We packed simple food, and played Magick the Gathering and it rained and it was the best.”

Spending time outdoors isn’t just part of their overall mental health strategy, it’s a part of who they are. “I feel the most like myself when I am outside,” said Margaret, even though they’ve also experienced racism in outdoor spaces. “People are always surprised to find out that the outdoors is an interest of mine. A lot of assumptions are made based on how I look. I’m treated differently than when I’m with my white husband.” 

Q&A

How to make the outdoor community safer and more inclusive for BIPOC living with mental illness

“We talk more about depression now. I’m really happy about that. I’d like to see the same energy for bipolar and other mood disorders and personality disorders. Growing up, bipolar was a joke, as in ‘why are you acting bipolar?’ Nowadays, I get so offended when people make those jokes. It’s not switching on a personality, it’s oscillating between depression and mania. I’ve been in therapy for seven or eight years now. My mental health isn’t a joke.”

What can the outdoor community do differently?

“I know spending time outdoors has really saved my sanity. Being in nature can be an extremely healing experience. Healing is not limited to one type of person or one type of class. We all deserve to heal. I think we need to be more encouraging of that. Creating space for more people to spend time in Nature means supporting our community’s healing and allowing us to thrive. I feel like the outdoors makes me a way better person. I think framing Nature as a healing place that we are all worthy of accessing is important—so let’s shift the conversation that way.”

Get help today

The National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 800-273-8255

Nacional de Prevención del Suicidio: 888-628-9454

Deaf & Hard of Hearing: 800-799-4889

The Trevor Project Suicide Prevention Hotline for LGBTQ+ Youth: 866-488-7386

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