Onika L. Dainty

Life Lesson #15

“Be in your skin and fall in love with the feeling.” — Onika L. Dainty

Learning to Live in My Skin

It took me nearly 42 years to embrace this lesson—and I’m still learning. Self-love and body acceptance don’t come easily when you’ve wrestled with body image issues most of your life. For over two decades, I’ve dealt with weight gain as a side effect of mood stabilizers and antipsychotic medication prescribed to manage Bipolar disorder. Even before my diagnosis, my self-esteem was fragile. I wore a mask of confidence—intelligent, funny, charismatic, and beautiful—but underneath, I was struggling.

From childhood, food became my battleground. At first, I starved myself, skipping meals for days at a time until my grade six teacher reported it to my mother. As a nurse, she adjusted her night shifts to watch me eat. But that surveillance pushed me into binging and purging, giving me a false sense of control while my mind unraveled.

Trauma, Diagnosis, and Body Image

By my teens, depression and anxiety consumed me. At 14, a brutal assault deepened my mental chaos and reinforced my eating disorder as a form of punishment. My body felt like both the scene of the crime and the enemy. Into my twenties and early thirties, those patterns stayed with me, compounded when I was diagnosed with Bipolar I disorder at 24. Medication stabilized my mind but made me feel trapped in a body I no longer recognized.

It wasn’t until homelessness, repeated hospitalizations, and addiction forced me into long-term care that I realized how deeply connected my body image and mental health had always been. My psychotherapist helped me see that sexual trauma often distorts one’s relationship with the body—leading to cycles of self-punishment that only break with forgiveness, compassion, and healing.

Writing an Apology to My Body

After a pivotal therapy session, I sat down and wrote an apology letter to my body. I apologized for starving it, for purging, for smoking marijuana until my lips and fingers bore the scars, for binging as a side effect of medication. I promised to let go of shame and guilt and instead honour my body with care, nourishment, and respect.

That was the turning point.

Redefining Self-Love and Acceptance

Nearly a decade later, I’ve kept that promise. I haven’t binged, purged, or starved myself. I’ve been sober for almost two years. I eat to nourish, not punish, and I’ve incorporated fitness into my life—not as penance, but as a way to feel strong and alive.

Yes, my weight still fluctuates. But instead of spiralling into self-loathing, I now meet those moments with grace, self-compassion, and resilience. I remind myself: I only get one body in this lifetime, and it deserves love in every season.

My body has survived trauma, illness, and recovery. It carries my creativity, my laughter, and my strength. And no matter its shape or size, it is mine. Today, I celebrate it—not as a project to be perfected, but as a partner in my healing journey.

Final Thought

Being in my skin and falling in love with the feeling isn’t about flawless self-confidence. It’s about daily forgiveness, compassion, and choosing to honour the body I once punished.

Self-love is not a destination—it’s a practice. And every day I continue this practice, I reclaim more of myself.

To my readers: How do you practice self-love when your body doesn’t look or feel the way you want it to?

When Feeling Great Isn’t Always Good

I used to love the early stages of hypomania—the creativity, the confidence, the endless energy. It felt like I had finally stepped into the best version of myself. Hypomania can be intoxicating, even euphoric, but it never lasts. It always slips into something darker, sometimes ending in hospitalization.

For those of us living with bipolar disorder, hypomania feels like a gift but is often a warning sign. While others may feel energized because of real-life events—a new job, a big achievement—hypomania can appear without reason. That unpredictability makes it difficult to recognize until it’s already reshaping your world.

This blog explores what hypomania really is, how to recognize its signs, and why understanding it is essential for mental health stability and self-compassion.

A Closer Look: What Is Hypomania?

Hypomania is a milder form of mania. It involves an elevated, expansive, or irritable mood lasting at least four days, often with increased activity or energy. Unlike full mania, hypomania doesn’t cause severe impairment, psychosis, or always require hospitalization.

Common Symptoms

• Elevated mood or irritability
  

• Reduced need for sleep
  

• Racing thoughts and pressured speech
  

• Increased energy and goal-driven activity
  

• Impulsivity and poor judgment
  

• Inflated self-esteem or grandiose thinking
  

Hypomania in Bipolar I vs. Bipolar II

• Bipolar I: Hypomania may precede more severe manic episodes, often with psychosis and significant impairment.
  

• Bipolar II: Hypomania involves similar symptoms but without psychosis or hospitalization. It can still disrupt judgment, relationships, and wellness.
  

Though less severe than mania, hypomania often blurs the line between “productive energy” and dangerous instability.

The Allure and the Risks of Hypomanic States

Hypomania often begins with heightened creativity, motivation, and excitement. You may wake with energy after little sleep, throw yourself into projects, or feel “superhuman.” But the shadow side quickly follows: risky choices, impulsive spending, reckless relationships, or pushing your body and mind beyond safe limits.

The crash afterward can be devastating—filled with shame, guilt, and exhaustion. I’ve learned through lived experience that these behaviours aren’t personal flaws but symptoms of a complex illness. Self-compassion is essential. I am not my illness, and neither are you.

Learning to Recognize Hypomania in Real Time

Recognizing hypomania early is difficult—especially when it feels good. But awareness is key to prevention.

Strategies That Helped Me:

• Identify Triggers: Lack of sleep is a major one for me, especially during travel. Good sleep hygiene helps protect against mood shifts.
  

• Listen to Feedback: Trusted friends or mentors can often spot changes—like pressured speech or irritability—before I do. Taking their observations seriously is an act of self-care.
  

• Self-Monitoring Tools: Journaling and mood-tracking apps create a record of shifts over time. Radical honesty with yourself is essential here.
  

When I feel the euphoric pull of hypomania, I ask myself: Where will this lead? What happens after the high?
For me, the answer has often been manic psychosis, hospitalization, and months of recovery. That truth keeps me grounded.

Managing Hypomania Without Shame

Managing hypomania means staying consistent with whatever system supports your mental health:

• Medication adherence (if part of your plan)
  

• Crisis prevention planning for when episodes escalate
  

• Self-compassion over self-criticism, reframing hypomania as a signal rather than a failure
  

The goal isn’t to suppress joy, but to recognize when joy turns into dysregulation and to respond with care.

Final Thoughts: Knowing Your High Is Knowing Your Illness

Hypomania is both a gift and a warning. It signals that my brain is edging toward instability and that it’s time to return to the tools that help me heal—sleep, medication, therapy, and self-awareness.

I’ve had episodes last days, weeks, even months. I never know when they’ll arrive, but I always know when they’re here. Over time, I’ve learned that chasing the high isn’t worth sacrificing my long-term wellness.

My goal is not to avoid joy or excitement but to distinguish between authentic happiness and emotional instability. That wisdom only comes with self-awareness, compassion, and practice.

To my readers: Have you ever mistaken a mental health symptom for personal growth? What helps you tell the difference between rising and unraveling?

Lost in the Fun, Then Lost in Myself

In December 2024, I traveled to Guyana, South America—my birthplace—for the first time in 20 years. I thought I was prepared, but I wasn’t. After a 17-hour layover in Port of Spain with no sleep, I arrived overwhelmed by the beauty and energy of home. I threw myself into the excitement, skipped medications, and survived on little rest. By the second week, I was edging into mania—sleep-deprived, irritable, and far from my baseline.

After an emotional outburst toward my cousin, I realized I had lost myself in paradise. Travel can disrupt even the strongest mental health routines, but I discovered it’s possible to find balance again—using small rituals and daily habits as a compass.

Why Travel Disrupts Bipolar Stability—and Why That’s Okay

Travel with bipolar disorder often destabilizes mental health because of:

• Circadian rhythm disruption: Jet lag and time zone shifts can trigger manic or depressive symptoms.
  
  

• Travel stress: Delays, long layovers, and overstimulation add strain, especially when sleep is lost.
  
  

• Diet and hydration: Unfamiliar foods, alcohol, or unsafe water can cause fatigue, disorientation, or mood instability.
  

During my Guyana trip, the unexpected layover shattered my sleep schedule. Overstimulation made rest impossible, and what felt like “energy” was really the onset of mania.

It’s important to normalize these ebbs and flows. Experiencing symptoms abroad doesn’t always mean you’re spiralling—it may simply be your body adjusting. Instead of panicking, lean on the structure, routines, and healthy habits you rely on at home. Rest when possible, release energy in healthy ways, and give yourself grace.

Rebuilding Routine in Small, Sustainable Ways

When travel pulls you off course, reestablishing even small routines can anchor your mental health.

• Medication: Take doses consistently, at the same time each day, even across time zones.
  
  

• Meals: Eat balanced foods on a schedule that mirrors home life.
  
  

• Emotional check-ins: Journal or track moods nightly to regulate emotions.
  

If your trip is fast-paced, set reminders or alarms for structure. Create micro-rituals like unpacking in each hotel, repeating bedtime routines, or listening to calming music while getting ready. These small anchors help stabilize emotions and reduce chaos.

The Power of Predictable Habits in Unfamiliar Places

Predictability creates safety in new environments. For bipolar wellness during travel, lean on familiar habits:

• Morning rituals: Just 10 minutes of journaling, meditation, or prayer can centre your day.
  
  

• Built-in breaks: Schedule downtime between major outings to restore balance.
  
  

• Sensory grounding: Drink the same tea, stretch, or use aromatherapy oils to recreate comfort.
  

These practices remind your mind and body that stability travels with you.

Final Thoughts: My Baseline Isn’t Just a Place—It’s a Practice

I once believed stability was tied to a fixed location. Now I know my baseline is portable—it lives in my choices, my breath, my rituals. Travel doesn’t mean abandoning structure, routine, or healthy habits; it means bringing them with me.

Yes, there will be times I lose balance through no fault of my own. But guilt only deepens the spiral. Compassion, rest, and gentle course-correction are what help me return to baseline.

I no longer push through symptoms to prove myself as a “good traveler.” I pause, check in, and trust myself. Travel is a radical act of self-trust—sometimes smooth, sometimes difficult, but always worth it.

Because no matter where I am in the world, I deserve stability, healing, and adventure.

To my readers: What small habit brings you home to yourself—no matter where you are?

Life Lesson #14

“The only validation I need is my parking.” – Onika L. Dainty

Learning the Weight of Validation

Validation is a complicated concept. By definition, it means “recognition or affirmation that a person or their feelings or opinions are valid or worthwhile.” For some, that recognition from others—family, friends, colleagues, or even strangers—is at the very core of their identity. Without external approval, many find it hard to move forward, change, or grow. I know this because, for much of my life, I was one of those people.

From an early age, I allowed trauma and low self-esteem to dictate my path. My sense of self-worth was tethered to someone else’s star of approval. Whenever I was the lead in my own story, fear crept in, whispering that without cheerleaders—or critics in disguise—I would fall flat. And yet, the rare times I did validate myself, I discovered something unexpected: empowerment.

Losing and Rebuilding Self-Acceptance

When I was diagnosed with Bipolar I disorder in 2006, the fragile spark of self-acceptance I had been nurturing disappeared. Once again, I turned outward, seeking guidance from others—many of whom, though well-intentioned, only confused and discouraged me. Their voices drowned out my own, and my self-esteem plummeted.

It took years to untangle myself from this cycle. Ironically, the breakthrough came when I asked the right person the wrong question.

The Conversation That Changed Everything

In 2017, while brainstorming a mental health podcast with my cousin, I asked him what I thought was a simple question:

“Am I doing this right? What do you think?”

His response:
“If you’re looking for validation, Onika, you’re not going to get it from me. This is your show. You’re the one with the lived experience. I’m just the sound guy. Stop looking for validation in other people. We’re grown—validate yourself.”

His words hit like a mirror held to my face. Brutally honest, yes, but spoken with love. My cousin had always pushed me to believe in my abilities, to trust the possibilities of my future. That night, his refusal to validate me became the greatest validation of all.

Choosing to Lead My Own Story

After reflecting on his words, I felt something shift. My confidence grew, my self-worth blossomed, and the desperate need for approval from others began to fade. I realized I needed to be the lead in my own love story—the one where I finally fell for myself and the strength that had always been within me.

Today, I still value the perspectives of those who care for me, but I no longer need their validation. I validate myself. My feelings, decisions, and opinions are valid simply because I exist. That belief has given me an unshakable confidence, allowing me to make bold and brave choices on my mental health and wellness journey—choices I never would have dared to make before that late-night conversation.

Gratitude for Brutal Honesty

For every moment of honesty that challenged me to grow, I am deeply grateful. To my cousin—my cheerleader, my truth-teller, my mirror—thank you for helping me realize that the only validation I truly need is, indeed, my parking.