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Kiss my wife so I can kill you

I have been manic and hypomanic before. Most people that live with bipolar know what it’s like to enter into the madness of Mania. Sometimes it’s euphoric, other times it's exciting. Usually, it's terrible, but this time it was dark and terrible, which was a bit of a scary combination.

This time I found myself experiencing deep rage and fury that was extreme, even for me. I once made my back spasm by yelling at a red light, so I am no stranger to unnecessary rage, but this was different. It was all about dispensing pain and vengeance. Usually, when I’m manic, I’ll play and replay scenarios over and over in my mind. They could be anything from buying a boat, to travelling around Australia, or breeding dogs for some side cash. The topic doesn’t seem to matter, but the fixation is always consistent.

This time, I was fixated on death. It wasn’t my own death; fortunately, I don’t get suicidal, but it was the hypothetical death of a friend at my hands. I couldn’t stop fantasizing about hurting somebody I actually care deeply about. I thought about hurting him over and over, and violently taking his life slowly and painfully. To justify it to myself, I imagined that he forced himself upon my wife, and I intervened and saved her, and in killing him viciously, I was exacting justice and displaying passionate love.

Before you call the cops, I have a secret you probably already know: HEAPS of people think about death. People often fantasise about hurting others, or how much they would charge to murder somebody, or if they would turn themselves in after accidentally killing a mob boss; but the unique thing for me in this situation is that I was meditating on death to the point of obsession.

“Soon madness has worn you down. It’s easier to do what it says than argue. In this way, it takes over your mind. You no longer know where it ends and you begin. You believe anything it says. You do what it tells you, no matter how extreme or absurd. If it says you’re worthless, you agree.”

― Marya Hornbacher, “Madness: A Bipolar Life” (2008)

What is dysphoric mania, and how does it differ from typical mania?

It felt like I was depressed and dark, but I was manic, so my brain was all messed up and confused—until I discovered Dysphoric Mania. Dysphoric, as in opposite to Euphoric. Sometimes when you’re manic, you feel euphoric, enlightened, and invincible. When you are having a dysphoric manic episode, it’s bloody horrible. I felt violent and irritable and carried furious bipolar rage. I wanted to drink too much whiskey, shout at the neighbour’s squealing kids, and get in a fight with the police.

Instead of life getting better while manic, I found that it got a lot worse. One of the weird and horrible things about a mood disorder is that it seems like your brain is constantly coming up with new and innovative ways to torment you. Having mania with dysphoria was one of the worst things to happen on my Bipolar journey thus far. On the whole, the manias are reducing in frequency, largely since I have started taking lithium, but when they do happen, it’s like I’m from another planet.

Dysphoric mania is ruthless because the extremes of depression and mania collide, creating a chaotic mix of emotions and behaviours that are typically seen separately in other types of bipolar disorder. Instead of experiencing the highs of mania or the lows of depression independently, you face both at the same time making you more erratic and extreme. Those with mixed features may experience a combination of manic symptoms—such as elevated mood, impulsivity, and decreased sleep—with depression signs like irritability, hopelessness, or social withdrawal. It’s a tightrope of intense, often conflicting feelings and behaviours.

Though the process of understanding Dysphoric Mania was burtal, this table helped me gain clarity.

Thanks to the team at Cadabams Hospitals

Is dysphoric mania normal, and why does it feel so dark and scary?

Although feeling violent and murderous is confronting and a little scary, it’s also quite normal. It’s normal in the sense that somebody with a bipolar brain has a different lens of what is to be considered normal. Sure, it’s hard to reconcile such thoughts against some poignant Bible verses, but when I’m thinking like this, I am not raging against God; I am raging against the brokenness of life this side of eternity.

We are all broken in different ways and my brokenness comes in the form of a brain with deficits. I don’t think to my full capacity. I don’t manage my moods as other people would. My brain is broken, so it makes sense for my broken brain to think broken things. I know that sounds simplistic, but if we have an incorrect understanding of a person’s ability to manage themselves according to our standards, we will become frustrated when they don’t live up to these unrealistic expectations.

If you noticed somebody using a needle in a park one day, you may feel like that behavior is abnormal. If you’re a Salvo, you may bring them a blanket. If you’re a YWAM graduate, you’d probably go try convert them :) BUT if you realised they had diabetes and were injecting insulin, all of a sudden what was disturbing behaviour suddenly becomes normal.

If you’ve ever felt like the only one struggling, the Australian Bureau of Statistics says otherwise. We are in this together.

When an anxious person doesn’t want to stand up and greet the 5 people around them at church, it’s normal.

When the grieving person needs a day to sleep and the only goal is having a successful shower, it’s normal.

When the footless amputee doesn’t want to play football with everybody else for fear of embarrassment, it’s normal.

When the post-natal depressed mumma bear wants an hour away from the incessantly screaming kid, it’s normal.

Having a mental illness is just as debilitating as a physical illness. We find it easier to make connections to appropriate behavior when we can see what’s going on, but it’s harder when we cannot see what’s happening on the inside. I remember seeing a person having a psychotic episode in Melbourne and this little old lady said he could come over for lunch (A+) as long as he did not do that scary thing again (D-). Let me assure you, little old lady… if he could simply “not do that scary thing again”…. he would.

It’s in these moments of misunderstanding and misplaced expectations that grace becomes essential. Grace doesn’t dismiss the reality of someone’s struggles, but it chooses to meet them where they are and acknowledges the complexity of human brokenness.

Jesus was the best at this! He exemplified this kind of grace in His ministry, extending kindness and healing to those society deemed outcasts or "abnormal." If we, as His followers, are to reflect His heart, then perhaps our first response to brokenness should not be to fix it, but to embrace it with love, understanding, and the assurance that no one walks their journey alone.

Why do people avoid mental health support? 2 key reasons explained

Before diving into the reasons people avoid seeking support, it’s important to acknowledge how pervasive this struggle is. Living with mental ill-health can feel isolating, overwhelming, and at times, shameful. While society and the church seem to be improving in its awareness and conversations around mental ill-health, many individuals still wrestle with stigma, fear, or practical barriers that prevent them from reaching out. These obstacles, both internal and external, can create a gap between the help people need and the help they actually receive. Even though it’s necessary to get support as we walk with mental ill-health, The research found

• 30% of people living with a mental health condition that was impacting their lives were unlikely to seek support from anyone.

• 39% of people delay seeking support due to costs.

• 30% delay seeking support due to waitlists.

• 27% think they’ll get better without support.

• 24% think their problem isn’t serious enough

I think there are many reasons we don’t seek support and help, but here are 2 of the most pressing qiestions?

Why do some people feel unworthy of mental health support, and how can they overcome it?

Most of the time, I don’t feel worthy of support. Sadly for my family and especially for my wife, when I experience mania, I am not much fun to be around. I get critical of everybody’s performance and feel like I am doing more than everybody else. A slight mistake will be taken as a personal attack. I project unrealistic expectations onto everybody else, but fail to follow through on the projects I start. To be blunt; I am a prick. Even worse, I am a prick that can’t see his own prickery until after the fact; then I wallow in regret and shame that I was such a prick.

It’s a mixture of pride and shame and all other emotions I can’t clearly identify, but I really struggle with the fact that my mental ill-health negatively affects those around me. There was an extended stint of depression that made me an unengaged and useless Dad; that made me feel like garbage. There are times I look at some of my stupid financial decisions and wonder what else we could have done with the money; that makes me feel like a loser. There are hurt feelings to be repaired, deals to be undone, shame to be processed, and repentance… lots and lots of repentance.

But at the end of the day, there is a hard truth. I can only control what I can control, everything else is not my responsibility. The reason it’s a hard truth is that it’s hard on those I love, more than it is on myself. If I am behaving poorly, but I know I have control over these actions, it’s my responsibility to grow up and own it and change my behaviour. But if my bipolar brain is tricking me into poor decisions I think are correct, it’s up to my loved ones to handle that.

And I wish with everything that wasn’t the case.

By no means am I justifying poor behaviour I can control; but I am nuancing poor behaviour I cannot control.

I have to go back to our old mate without a foot. If he is walking through the shopping centre, but is a little slow, he cannot control that. As a consequence, his loved ones don’t really have the right to get angry about it. Yes, they are inconvenienced and they may very well get frustrated, but that’s their issue, not the foot-less man’s issue.

In the same way, if my bipolar makes me difficult to be around, it may be frustrating and inconvenient, and maybe even hurtful, but as long as I’m not using my bipolar as an excuse to be a prick by choice, my loved ones don’t really have the right to get angry with me.

Does that make it easy? No! Of course I don’t want my family and friends to suffer at my hands, but we are called as people to carry one another’s burdens. It’s part of being in community. This is why the church exists; so the stronger parts carry the weaker when necessary, and then we swap when the tables turn. I assume most of us find helping others easier than receiving help, but both are necessary this side of Eternity. You are worthy of support.

Why do people feel alone in mental illness, and how can they find support?

The second reason people are hesitant to reach out for help is that they feel like they are the only ones struggling. I have been very open about my bipolar, and I am happy to share what’s going on in my head, but not everybody is at the same place. Statistically, many of us are still hesitant to get support when we are struggling with our mental health.

When we’re lonely or isolated, it can really affect our mental wellbeing. If isolated for too long, many of us begin to experience anxiety, depression, or even paranoia. The feeling of being disconnected from others can make us feel overwhelmed like we’re constantly on edge. We may struggle with low energy of fatigue and fall into a pattern of constant Netflix and couch time. Our thoughts can become negative, leading to feelings of hopelessness or worthlessness. In some cases, we might even start to entertain thoughts of self-harm or suicide. These mental struggles can feel all-consuming, and without support, they can be incredibly difficult to overcome. We are not build to do this life alone.

The point of community, real community, is that we celebrate with one another when times are good and sit in the dust with each other when times are bad. It seems that there are people in community who keep their mental ill-health to themselves, and those without community who need to engage. When I speak of community, I mean any group of people where you both give and receive. It could be family, your neighbours, a sporting club, or a church. It's any place where you can be yourself; your true self.

Richard Dreyfuss

Of his bipolar diagnosis, he says, “No matter what you call it, this is an illness no different from, say, diabetes or asthma — and like those conditions, [it] should be neither ignored nor stigmatized. Feeling ashamed would mean surrendering to someone else’s judgment — an ignorant judgment at that.”

In community but incognito

I’ve found that there are a lot of people in the community who haven’t come to a place where they can truly be themselves. They operate under the radar. They are present and known, but usually on a surface level. I live on the Gold Coast, and it can be very hard to find true friends. You will find friendly people, but it’s really hard to build real community. If you’re in community but incognito, maybe it’s time to let some people know how you’re really doing.

When I was at my worst, I would not have made it without community. A friend used to make me walk on the beach to get me out of the house and into exercise. Another friend made me come to coffee every week, even when I didn’t want to. My brother prayed for me, and my niece challenged me to start Sunburnt Souls. I needed people, and they needed me. Let your community know who you really are.

It's easy to hide behind the mask of being "fine," especially when you're trying to fit in or avoid feeling vulnerable. But true community only happens when we're honest with one another. People around you might be waiting for the chance to support you, but they can’t help if they don’t know what's really going on beneath the surface. Opening up might feel scary at first, but it's the first step towards forming deeper, more meaningful connections that can carry you through tough times.

Not in community at all

I realise saying “Get into community” is easier said than done, but if you are able to take steps to do so, it will pay off long term. It will probably be uncomfortable and potentially awkward at first, but once you get below the surface, your investment will pay off.

Wholesome community matters because it provides a sense of belonging, a place where we can be known and know others deeply. It creates an environment for accountability, support, and growth. In a world where loneliness and isolation are increasingly common, community offers the opportunity to share burdens, celebrate victories, and grow together. It helps keep us grounded and gives us a safe space to wrestle with our faith, struggles, and mental ill-health.

How to get into community?

Start small: Look for opportunities to connect on a smaller scale, like joining a life group or attending a local event. Sometimes just showing up is the hardest part.
Be consistent: Community isn't built overnight. Try to be a regular presence in group activities or church events, even if it feels awkward at first. Over time, familiarity breeds comfort and connection.
Open up: Vulnerability is key. Share about your life, struggles, and victories—without expecting perfection from others. Authenticity fosters trust and deepens relationships.
Look for shared interests: Find groups or activities that align with your passions. Whether it’s a hobby, a ministry, or a local charity, having something in common makes it easier to build connections.
Invite others in: Community thrives when it's reciprocal. Don't be afraid to take the initiative and invite someone to join you in an activity, even if you’re the one who feels unsure.

Community takes time, but the bonds you create will become invaluable, and you’ll discover that the discomfort was simply the growing pains of something worthwhile.

I have issues. I am messed up. I have a broken brain, and I don’t always have control over everything that’s going on inside my head. I fantasised about killing a mate for committing a crime he would never entertain, and God didn’t turn His back on me. I have people in my world that love me, even when I am a prick. I can’t tell you what to do in your own journey with your mental well-being; we all have our own choices to make.
But all I know from my own experience is that I’m stuffed without God, and I’m stuffed without people.
It's easy to get lost in the struggle, especially when things seem too broken to fix. But the truth is, none of us are perfect, and none of us have it all together. It's okay to admit that we're struggling. What really matters is knowing that we don't have to face it alone.
Many people have found our podcasts helpful, hopefully they encourage you in your situation. You can also sign up to the newsletter to make sure you are kept in the loop.

Love you guys!
Dave

Disclaimer- The content shared on this website is for informational and inspirational purposes only. I am a pastor, not a counsellor, psychologist, or medical professional. While I draw from personal experiences and faith-based insights, any advice or discussions regarding mental health or well-being should not be considered a substitute for professional medical care. If you are experiencing mental health challenges, please seek guidance from a qualified healthcare provider

Struggling with Faith and Mental Health? You're Not Alone.

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Let’s navigate faith and mental health together.

Dysphoric Mania & Faith: Your Questions Answered

What is dysphoric mania, and how is it different from typical mania?

Dysphoric mania is a brutal mix of manic energy and depressive darkness. Instead of feeling euphoric and unstoppable, you feel wired and enraged—like your brain is at war with itself. It’s the kind of mania where you want to break things, not build them. Unlike classic mania, where people often feel invincible, dysphoric mania drags you into chaos, agitation, and violent thoughts. It’s a storm where you burn out instead of lighting up.

Is it normal to feel violent, angry, or dark during a dysphoric manic episode?

As disturbing as it is, yes—it’s normal within the context of bipolar disorder. A broken brain thinks broken thoughts. Just like someone with diabetes has insulin issues, someone with bipolar has brain chemistry that doesn’t fire like it should. That doesn’t mean you’ll act on violent or intrusive thoughts, but it does mean you need a plan, support, and guardrails in place to keep yourself safe when your mind turns against you.

How can Christians reconcile dysphoric mania with faith?

Faith doesn’t erase mental illness, just like it doesn’t erase cancer or broken bones. The Bible is full of people who wrestled with deep despair, rage, and darkness—Elijah wanted to die, David wept in caves, and Paul begged for relief from his “thorn in the flesh.” God didn’t abandon them, and He doesn’t abandon you. Faith isn’t about always feeling good—it’s about holding on when everything in you wants to let go.

Why do people avoid mental health support, even when they need it?

Even though mental health awareness has improved, stigma and fear still keep people from getting help. The two biggest reasons people don’t seek support are:

Feeling unworthy – Many think they should “just handle it” or that their struggles aren’t “bad enough” to justify help.
Feeling alone – The belief that no one else understands makes people retreat instead of reaching out.

Why do some people feel unworthy of mental health support?

Guilt and shame play a huge role. When you’re manic, you might be reckless, angry, or say things you regret. When you’re depressed, you might shut people out. After the episode passes, you look back and think, I don’t deserve help. I made my bed, now I have to lie in it. That’s a lie. Needing help doesn’t make you weak, and struggling doesn’t make you unworthy of support. You are not your illness.

Why do people feel so alone in mental illness, and how can they find support?

Because most people suffer in silence. You could be sitting in church next to three other people struggling, and none of you know it. Mental health battles are isolating—especially in Christian spaces where people think they have to “have it together.” Finding support means being real, stepping into community, and refusing to hide.

Ways to connect:

Tell someone you trust – A friend, pastor, or counselor.
Find a faith-based support group – You are not alone.
Engage in community – Church, small groups, or even online spaces where faith and mental health are openly discussed.

How can Christians pray through mental illness when God feels distant?

Some days, prayer feels impossible. When your mind is chaotic or numb, short, honest prayers matter—even if all you can say is, "God, help me." The Psalms are full of raw prayers that sound like desperation rather than confidence. That’s okay.

A few ways to pray when you’re struggling:

Use Scripture – Read Psalms 42, 88, or 91 and turn them into prayers.
Pray honestly – You don’t need fancy words. "God, this sucks. I need you." is enough.
Ask for others to pray for you – When you can’t find the words, let someone else stand in the gap.

What does the Bible say about mental health struggles?

The Bible doesn’t use the term “mental illness,” but it speaks to human suffering, anxiety, and despair. Jesus Himself was “deeply troubled” before His crucifixion (Matthew 26:38). God is not scared of your struggles, doubts, or brokenness.

Key verses:

Psalm 34:18 – "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted."
Isaiah 41:10 – "Do not fear, for I am with you."
Matthew 11:28 – "Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."

How can the church better support those struggling with mental illness?

Instead of throwing Bible verses at the problem, churches need to:

Acknowledge that mental illness is real – It’s not just a spiritual issue.
Create safe spaces – Judgment-free environments where people can be real about their struggles.
Encourage professional help – Just like we support medical care for physical illness, we should support mental health treatment.
Walk with people, not just pray for them – Tangible support, whether that’s meals, check-ins, or just showing up.

Where can Christians find ongoing support for faith and mental health?

You don’t have to walk this road alone. Sunburnt Souls exists to have raw, real conversations about faith and mental illness.