I have a lot of experience with bipolar depression, and I hate it when people tell me to “cry it out.” I find this one of the most useless pieces of advice you can give a person who’s upset, particularly one that’s already crying. It’s built on the idea that you can cry out a sorrow of some sort as if there’s a beginning, middle and end. Well, I can’t comment for people without bipolar disorder, but for people with bipolar depression, “crying it out” isn’t an option.
Why Say ‘Cry It Out’ to a Person with Bipolar Depression?
I think people have experiencing saying “cry it out” to two-year-olds. You know, when a toddler is upset because his toy broke, there is certainly an end to the upset, an end to the crying. He’s not going to be upset about it forever. So, telling him to cry it out makes sense. And, indeed, adults aren’t upset about the same thing forever either, but it can take considerably longer to get over a broken marriage than a broken toy.
“Crying it out” is also built on the notion of feeling your feelings — in other words, not suppressing them. This clearly applies not just to toddlers learning about emotions, but adults too (maybe more so). Adults more acutely don’t want to feel pain and are more likely to try to suppress it in some way. I’ve blinked away tears more times than I can count.
So, when a person with bipolar depression is upset and starts to cry, the above things may run through a person’s head, and they may say, “Just cry it out,” or “let it out.” I understand. Old-timey, pithy wisdom is memorable.
I Was Told to ‘Cry It Out’ with Bipolar Depression
And, in fact, it was a psychologist who told me to “cry it out” when I was in a bipolar depression. I think he thought there would be a beginning, middle and end. I think he thought there would be a well of suffering I could get to the bottom of. And I think he thought suppressing the tears and suffering was making it worse.
And so I did what my therapist asked. I stopped suppressing the suffering and tears. I attempted to “cry out” my bipolar depression.
My attempt overran our session. He put me in the next room when he had his next client and told me to continue. It was garment-rending suffering in that room. I was wailing in pain. There was a river of tears. Nothing felt better. Everything felt worse. After what felt like three or four lifetimes, I decided to give up on that advice. And honestly, I had to self-harm to get my emotions back under control. (This was many years ago.)
Why You Can’t ‘Cry Out’ Bipolar Depression
I learned two things that day.
- Bipolar depression isn’t the kind of thing you can cry out.
- Psychologists fundamentally don’t understand serious mental illness and how it differs from average distress.
You see, bipolar depression isn’t like feeling sad about something. It’s like being sad. It’s like personifying sadness. It’s like the claws of sadness clutching your soul. It has no beginning, middle and end. It has a life of its own. You can’t cry out bipolar depression because there is no “out” per se. Not in the traditional sense. It’s not something you “get over” it’s something you treat and that’s fundamentally different.
And it’s this difference psychologists often don’t get. Don’t get me wrong, some do, I’m sure, but in my experience, most don’t. Most psychologists look at mental illness as if it were just on the spectrum of upset and distress that anyone else would face, and thus, suggest it will respond to the same techniques. And in some respects, some of those same techniques are useful. But there’s a reason why serious mental illnesses like bipolar disorder have specific forms of therapy that are evidence-based. And it’s for exactly this reason. Serious mental illness is a different animal. It’s a well of suffering without a floor.
Don’t Tell People with Bipolar Depression to ‘Cry It Out’
All of this is to say, just don’t tell people with bipolar depression to “cry it out.” Don’t give that advice. In fact, don’t give advice about something you don’t understand. You might understand pain and crying. You might understand distress. But you don’t understand serious mental illness unless it’s something you have spent years studying or have yourself. You just don’t. And admitting that you don’t understand what a person with bipolar depression is going through is okay. In fact, it’s much better than bad advice that will just make the person with bipolar disorder feel like a failure when the advice doesn’t work out.
So instead of saying “cry it out” to a person with bipolar depression, how about just saying, “I hear your pain. I’m here for you. I love you.”
This is a great post. Seriously, nobody should ever give such overly simplistic advice to anyone with a mental illness/condition. We’ve heard them all: “You just need to get out and walk that stress out. The fresh air and sunshine will do wonders!”; “You should try exercise. It’s nature’s antidepressant.”; and my favorite “You just need to pray more” as if I pray at all now as a non practicing, not very religious person. My mother is Buddhist and her answer, her only answer, is the “chant about it.” I just need to do that more and more and (magically) it will all get better. And “cry it out” is one of the top ones. I know that many bipolar people do nothing but cry when their depressed. How is more of the same going to improve anything?
Interestingly (to me at least), I do allow myself to “cry it out” but not in that way at all. The crying isn’t for my depression, it’s for the mania. It’s more like random bouts of crying when I don’t expect it. I’ve come to realize that it’s actually helpful, somehow, like letting some steam out of a pot of boiling water – my emotions are the water and it’s been coming out as anger, anxiety, agitation, and so forth.
Sometimes I’m listening to a good song, not even a sad song, and it happens. I’m manic, not realizing it or under estimating it, and the music overstimulates me, and before I know it the tears are flowing. It happens at home, in the car, and all sorts of places. If I’m home I go into the garage or an empty room and just let it pour out. I have to. It’s coming out whether I like it or not. But, for whatever reason, maybe releasing some cortisol or something, it does really help calm me down. It’s therapeutic. I’m manic way more than I’m depressed and I almost never cry when I’m down. It’s always, always when I’m manic.
Side note: Just want to say Natasha you have a fantastic site here and I’m just getting started reading your great work. I read your posts and I swear you’re reading my mind sometimes. You speak my language and help provide such a wealth of important information for bipolars like us. So many people don’t understand how nuanced this condition is. It’s not up or down, happy or sad, manic or depressed. Nothing is that simple. There’s so much more to understanding BD. Thank you so much for contributing your wonderful knowledge to the world. I learn more from one or two of your posts than I have learned from all of my pdocs put together. That’s a sad commentary on the current state of our mental healthcare in this country and exactly what you do is so important to us.
‘Crying it out’, I have bipolar, diagnosed for over 20 years. You can’t cry out the bipolar. You can’t cry out a mental illness. You can’t cry a broken bone better.
What I can, at times do, is cry some of the pain associated with anger, frustration and worthlessness. Rather than feed those emotions, I can release them safely. No it doesnt always work. Sometimes the anger must come first. Sometimes the frustration and associated clumbsy fimbly uncoordinated socially awkward must happen first. Sometimes it’s safer to trigger myself, in a safe environment to defuse the pent up adrenaline.
But no, it doesnt fix anything. The irrational or catastrophic thinking will return. The benefits are always short lived. The older I get the less I do it. But it is a tool I use, especially with loud music and screaming. Safety is the reason. However, if someone TOLD me to cry it, honestly, they’d better be able to run or have a VERY thick skin, cause they’re going to cop it. It’s insulting. It doesnt validate my feelings or the severity of my illness. It is an assumption on their part that they know me better than I know myself. If people want to show they care, ask, listen and don’t offer advice.
Although I may not have bipolar depression, losing my oldest child at 25 years old this past September brought on a type of grief that I have to live with. It’s never going away and it’s a nightmare. I’ve been told the same things….cry it out, get over it, time will blah blah blah…it’s infuriating sometimes. I’ve lost 25 years of my life when I lost Jace. When you wrote…”I’ve blinked away more tears than I can count”…I felt like I read my own words. Believe me, this pain can be agonizing. So many times when I’ve felt it brewing, tears welling up…I had to use all my strength to divert my attention to something else.
As I mentioned, we may deal with a different type of pain but, as you excellently put it…I feel your pain and I’m here for you. This is a great post!