Need to chat? Send a text! In this deeply personal episode, Jamie opens up about her journey to finally receiving a diagnosis of bipolar II—and how it changed everything. What once felt like a sentence became a map—a guide to understanding herself, her symptoms, her needs, and ultimately her healing. She shares honest stories of misdiagnosis, emoti…

Need to chat? Send a text! What started as a short family hike turned into a 7-mile climb through steep trails, missed turns, and pouring rain. In this episode, Jamie shares the story—and the powerful metaphor it became for navigating life with bipolar disorder, parenting through uncertainty, and finding joy even in the storm. This one’s for anyone…

Need to chat? Send a text! In this deeply personal episode, Jamie shares how an airplane safety message unexpectedly mirrored her journey with bipolar disorder—and what it truly means to “put on your own oxygen mask first.” She also unpacks a powerful moment from a TV show that exposed the pain of being seen only through the lens of a diagnosis. Th…

Need to chat? Send a text! Why does everything feel heavier after dark? In this raw and deeply relatable episode, Jamie unpacks the emotional and physiological chaos that often hits at night for those living with bipolar disorder—especially bipolar II. She shares what her own nighttime spirals look like, how hypomania sneaks in when the world goes …

Need to chat? Send a text! Have you ever looked around at everyone else and wondered, “Why does it seem so easy for them?” In this episode, Jamie opens up about the quiet grief that comes from living with bipolar II—the missed opportunities, the countless restarts, and the lingering shame of not having the right tools early on. Through honest story…

Need to chat? Send a text! In this debut episode, I open up about my personal journey with bipolar disorder—how I was misdiagnosed for most of my life, the roller coaster of emotions I couldn’t explain, and the breaking point that finally led to answers. This podcast was born out of years of feeling invisible, misunderstood, and alone. My hope is t…