How to Support a Partner with Mental Illness

Strategies for dealing with a person with mental illness, told by a person with mental illness.

I have talked at length about my mental illness. I am bipolar, and I am becoming more open about it. My wife, who I talk about periodically, also copes with mental illness. I am not going to expand further, as her life is hers to discuss or not discuss.

One of the many joys of having a mental illness is having a relationship. It’s hard to live with someone with a mental illness. I am currently on both sides of that. I know that I can be insufferable when my bipolar flares up, and I know that it can be hard to deal with me when I’m struggling.

So, based on my experiences in living with someone with mental illness and living with someone who had to live with me, I present an incomplete guide to supporting a partner who has a mental illness, told from both sides.

Communication is key

The most important thing in any relationship is communication. The generic term for a boyfriend, girlfriend, or spouse is “partner,” and that’s really what they are. They are your partner in all things in your life, and you need to talk to them about yourself and the things in your life, as they should with you. Ideally, you should have no secrets from them, although I’m not advocating that you tell them exactly what you plan on buying them for their birthday every year.

Relationships are built on trust, and having an open dialogue is incredibly important. Being able to talk about your job, money, kids, and your feelings can make or break a relationship. There is common advice to not bottle your feelings up, that you should talk about them and you’ll feel better.

I generally believe in being open and honest with your partner, and if you’re only going to tell one person your deepest feelings, it should probably be them. That said, if you feel like telling two people, or if you don’t have a partner, tell your therapist.

All of that goes for mental health as well. If you are feeling depressed, tell your partner. If you are having anxiety, tell your partner. If you’re lost in a cloud of confusion, tell your partner. Talking about your feelings is cathartic for most people, and it can be incredibly rewarding to be able to talk about your deepest, most hidden feelings with someone close to you.

For someone with a mental illness, there is still more to it. My partner is familiar with my treatment plan, my medication schedule, the signs that I’m entering a depression or mania, and ways to deal with different moods or situations, among many other things. This is very necessary to my broader safety net because my partner is likely my earliest warning system, very often alerting me to an issue before I’m aware of it.

For example, as I have been writing this I’ve been in the midst of a bit of a mania for the past several weeks, and my partner was the one who first pointed it out. I think it would’ve taken me a bit to realize that I was running high if they hadn’t told me about it.

Shut up and listen

Part of communicating is listening. If your partner has a mental illness, you need to listen to them. You may not understand what they’re going through, and that’s okay. Often, they’re not necessarily seeking a solution to their problem but rather just need to talk to someone they trust.

Mental illness is often chronic, meaning it can’t be cured, only managed. Part of managing it is talking about it with people you trust. I talk about my depression with my wife all the time. Sometimes, I need to workshop a problem with someone I trust so I can find a solution. Other times, I just need to vent to manage my depression.

That’s okay. There is nothing wrong with venting. Sometimes, you don’t need a solution to your problem, you just need someone to nod and hug you and say “it’s going to be okay, I’m here for you.”

People who don’t live with mental illness often don’t get this. They look at their partner having a panic attack, thinking that everything is awful, nobody loves them, and they just want to die, and they want to fix it. In their minds, these are tangible things with tangible solutions, and all we have to do is buckle down and solve the problem.

Counterintuitively, that’s not helpful. Mental illness is illogical. There are times when I look at my network of friends, friends that I love very much and see regularly and have fun with, and think “none of them really like me. They’re just stringing me along until they can kick me to the curb.”

Logically, I know that they’re my friends and that’s not true. Regardless of what my logical brain says, I cannot be convinced otherwise. A decade of friendship means nothing to a depressed brain.

In that case, all you can do is listen and comfort. When I feel that way, I know in the back of my mind I’ll feel better about it later, but that seems distant. Now, it seems like everyone is going to abandon me, and I need someone to hug me and say “it’s okay, I’m here for you now.”

Support each other

In the same way that my partner is my early warning system, they are also often my first line of defense. On days where I’m running high, they often have to give me a firm yank to bring me back down to earth.

On days where I’m depressed, they need to know when to gently remind me to take care of myself and when to administer a firm kick in the butt about doing important chores.

When I’m anxious about family stuff or life issues or just the general state of the world, they often let me ramble about whatever’s bothering me to excise the mental pus.

There is a certain level of knowing your partner that goes into it as well. My wife needs to know when to reassure me, when to kick me in the butt, when to reign me in, and when to let me talk. She doesn’t always get it right, and that’s okay.

She also doesn’t always have the energy to deal with me, and that’s okay too. It is very draining for her when I am having a prolonged bout of depression or mania, and sometimes she doesn’t have the spoons to help both me and herself.

The same thing happens to me with them. Sometimes the best we can do for each other is collapse on the couch at the end of the day with takeout and Netflix. Sometimes the only reason we’re both still standing is that we’re leaning on each other and gravity hasn’t fully kicked in yet.

Include your partner in your safety net

For me and for a lot of people, it helps to build your partner into your safety net. I’ve spent a long time constructing a large network of people who can help make sure I don’t go too far off the rails. There are friends, family, and mentors who are able and willing to talk with me about a lot of things.

My wife is first on the list. If I have something that is bothering me, she’s probably the first to know. If I am feeling good, I often tell her first. Sometimes, she knows of something simply by living with me.

Make sure your partner is aware of your safety net. They may be unable to support you at all times, and they may have to pass you to another member of the network. That’s okay. They are your partner, but they are not your everything. We can’t do it all by ourselves, and we can’t do it all for other people, so don’t expect that of your partner.

Be patient

It is not easy to have a partner with some kind of mental illness. You have to do your research into their illness, and you have to know them as a person enough to interpret the knowledge you gain from your research.

You also need to understand that they may not want to talk about it with you out of shame or fear. Stigma is real, and many people are ashamed of their illness and afraid people will see them in a negative light. For those who have little experience with mental illness, it can be daunting and scary.

It takes a lot of effort to gain some understanding of what a person with mental illness is going through, and it takes effort to get them to feel safe enough to open up to you. For someone who has never dealt with it before, it can be a lot and a lot of relationships where one partner has a mental illness end for one reason or another.

There are many reasons for this: poor communication, stress on one or both partners to keep up with or support the other, an unwillingness of the partner with mental illness to talk about it, or any number of other reasons.

Some relationships last much longer than they should because one or both partners are scared to leave for fear of someone self-harming or killing themselves. This is a very tricky situation, as often one party feels trapped by the other.

None of this is to say that people with mental illness can’t have good, strong relationships. Some people have strong relationships that were diagnosed later in life, and their partner vowed to help them through their new struggles. There are people like me who have been diagnosed since childhood that work with their partners to build a strong relationship with honesty and openness.

It helps to know what both of you bring to the table so you can construct a system that works for you. If you discover your diagnosis during a long-term relationship, you have a foundation to build on, while if you come to a relationship knowing about your illness, you’re equipped to help your new partner understand.

Take care of yourself

You can’t care for another person if you’re not caring for yourself. Period. Engage in self-care and know when you have to help yourself before you help your partner.

Remember the airline demonstration: put your oxygen mask on before helping the person you’re with. You can’t help someone who can’t breathe if you also can’t breathe. Make sure you’re stable enough to help stabilize someone else.

It is important to remember that you are partners. Partners support each other, communicate with each other, listen, and, ideally, enhance each other’s best qualities. Part of your job as a partner is to make sure that you can function enough to hold up your end of things.

You can do it!

It is perfectly possible to have a long, thriving relationship with a person who has a mental illness. It takes work on both of your parts, but relationships in general take work. Educate yourself, communicate, listen, be patient and understanding, and take care of yourself, and you’ll both do well.