Leading While Living With Bipolar II: A Superintendent’s Perspective

Most people see a Superintendent as the ultimate steady hand — the one who remains calm in a crisis, makes tough decisions without blinking, and projects confidence no matter what’s happening behind the scenes. What they don’t see is that sometimes the person at the helm is also fighting an internal battle few would ever imagine.

I have Bipolar II disorder. And I lead. Every day.

The Highs Aren’t Always High

For many, “bipolar” evokes images of dramatic mood swings — manic highs and crushing lows. But Bipolar II is different. It’s often quieter, less visible, and more insidious. The “highs” are hypomanic — bursts of energy and creativity that can make you feel unstoppable. I’ve written full strategic plans in a night, outlined three years of goals before sunrise, and given keynotes that felt like lightning running through my veins. But there’s a catch: the crash. It comes in the form of deep, paralyzing depression — not sadness, but emptiness. And when you’re a Superintendent, there’s no pause button for mental health. The meetings still happen. The parents still call. The buses still roll.

The Weight of Leadership

When you lead a district, you’re responsible for the wellbeing of hundreds — sometimes thousands — of students, staff, and families. Every decision is scrutinized. Every mistake is amplified. Add Bipolar II into the mix, and that weight can feel heavier than most will ever know. There are days when simply getting out of bed feels like an accomplishment. Yet I do — because the work matters. Because the students deserve consistency. Because leadership isn’t about perfection; it’s about persistence.

Owning the Diagnosis

It took me years to even say the words out loud. I worried about the stigma. How would my board react? My staff? My community? But the truth is, pretending it didn’t exist made it worse. Once I owned it — once I said, “This is part of me, not the definition of me” — everything changed. I built systems of support: therapy, medication, exercise, accountability partners. I learned to track my moods like I track data. I stopped viewing my diagnosis as a weakness and started viewing it as a variable — something to understand, manage, and sometimes even leverage.

Strength in Transparency

Leadership with Bipolar II doesn’t mean pretending to be invincible. It means knowing when to delegate, when to step back, when to say, “I need a moment.” It means normalizing mental health conversations for your staff and modeling what it looks like to take care of yourself. And you know what? My vulnerability has made me a better leader. More empathetic. More self-aware. More human.

The Takeaway

Being a Superintendent is hard. Living with Bipolar II is really hard. Doing both at the same time? Some days, it felt impossible. But it’s also a reminder that strength doesn’t come from being unbreakable — it comes from showing up, even when your mind tells you not to.

If you’re an educator, leader, or anyone quietly managing mental illness while carrying heavy responsibility — know this: you’re not alone, and you can lead and heal at the same time.