I watched I Swear recently and it genuinely stayed with me. What I loved most was how gently it handled something that’s so often misunderstood. It didn’t over-dramatise. It humanised. And you could really feel how storytelling has helped people better understand Tourette syndrome over time.
It made me think about bipolar.
Because where is that same softness for us?
So often it’s shown at its most extreme, the “Jekyll and Hyde” stereotype, the unstable character, the unpredictable partner. It’s loud, dramatic and a little frightening. But rarely do we see someone just… living with it.
There was a period in my life where bipolar completely overtook me. It was crippling. I truly didn’t believe I would see my 30th birthday. That’s how convincing your own mind can become when it turns dark.
But I did.
Now I’m in my 30s. I’m raising my children. I’m working. I’m creating. I’m building a life. And alongside all of that, I’m constantly checking in with myself. Regulating. Learning my patterns. Taking responsibility for my emotional depth.
That part isn’t dramatic enough for film.
Even things like work can feel harder than people realise. I’ve had my fair share of full- and part-time jobs in the past, and I’ve found it especially difficult to maintain a healthy work/life balance without support in place. During more severe episodes, like many others, I’ve had to step away from employment altogether. It adds pressure, especially when misunderstanding still exists in workplaces.
Bipolar isn’t a horror story. It isn’t split personalities. It isn’t being kind one day and someone else the next. It’s intensity. It’s shifts in energy. It’s knowing yourself deeply enough to steady your own waves. It isn’t a condition anyone glamourises, it’s hard as hell to cope with.
I don’t think people avoid understanding it intentionally. Often, they just haven’t been shown the full picture. And when the only portrayals are the frightening ones, that becomes the narrative.
So I want to congratulate the actors and director behind I Swear for creating something that opens conversation with care. Films like this matter. They invite empathy instead of fear. It’s no surprise they deserved every BAFTA awarded to them on 22 February.
I just hope one day we see a story about bipolar told with that same balance. The quiet strength. The resilience. The individual doing the inner work no one else sees.
Because that story exists too.
And maybe it’s time we told it a little more honestly
Written by Lidia Dodsworth
