In the first episode of Channel 4's Big Mood, we are introduced to protagonist Maggie (Nicola Coughlan) as she rides a scooter through Dalston, donning red velour sweats and snazzy sunglasses.
The impulsive playwright arrives at her best friend Eddie's (Lydia West) bar and urges her to bunk off work to chase after her former teacher and lifelong crush.
After an eventful return to her old stomping ground, which involved a particularly awkward run-in in the headteacher's office, Maggie is faced with a forthright, yet unexpected, question from her friend.
"I'm all for shenanigans, but are you manic?" asks a concerned Eddie as the pair arrive back at Maggie's flat. "Just because if you are, you know what comes next, right?"
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It's only in these closing moments that we learn of Maggie's bipolar diagnosis: that her intense mood swings are more than just a "funk". We'd have thought she was just a spontaneous thirty-something who approaches the world without a filter, but it turns out Maggie has a lot more to deal with — and she's not coping well at all.
This episode alone sets the tone of the show: Big Mood may be a story of friendship, but it really lends itself to exploring how a mental health condition can derail your life at a moment's notice.
I can vouch for that as I, too, have a bipolar diagnosis.
Following Maggie's school escapades, it doesn't take long for the high to dissipate, replaced by a crippling low. Expensive sweats turn into an unwashed Friends-themed T-shirt that's had enough airtime of its own to warrant it making the cast list. Greasy-haired, makeup free and wearing three-day old underwear, Maggie well and truly lands in the depression zone.
"I can do a bit of depression. I'm great at depression. I've got it down to a fine art. Stay in bed, barely move, minimal human contact," she explains.
It can be a strange existence, having bipolar disorder. When you're high, you don't want it to end. When you're low, you need it to end as soon as possible, and when you're in the so-called "grey area" — when you're neither high or low, more like a stable balance of the two — you worry which end of the spectrum will be sprung on you next.
Unlike other on-screen representations, which tend to glamourise the illness, Big Mood really leans into the challenges of living with bipolar. It's not all spending money on expensive things we don't need or crying ourselves to sleep under a tonne of chocolate wrappers, though those things do happen.
It's also about learning to manage the mood swings, largely through medication, which the show perfectly explores.
Ask anyone with bipolar and they'll likely tell you that we will try anything and everything to manage the illness without medical intervention. Having to live with medication for the rest of your life isn't exactly an exciting prospect, but often a necessary one.
For Maggie, it's a decision that doesn't come lightly. It's quickly uncovered in the series that she's decided to stop taking her lithium — a common mood stabiliser that's used to treat bipolar — as she feels it "makes it impossible to write".
Medication is so "off-limits" for Maggie, that she goes as far as to make Eddie watch the 2001 biographical classic A Beautiful Mind, which followed a mathematical genius who tries to control his schizophrenia without medication.
"John Nash basically thinks his way through schizophrenia, like instead of taking his medication which he hates, he uses logic to separate the sane from the insane inside his own mind," says Maggie, outwardly trying to reassure herself that she's made the right decision in ditching the meds. Turns out, she didn't.
Despite assuring her worried psychiatrist (Sally Phillips) that all is well, Maggie's mood continues to spiral, this time into dangerous territory. It's her chaotic dinner party that sparks a sense of realisation in her, after she invites herself on holiday with a stranger she met on Tinder 30 minutes before.
Her impulsive decisions make her realise that medication is the only way to manage her symptoms, so Maggie returns to her doctor for a new prescription.
It's a story arc I really appreciated, personally. Since my diagnosis in 2017, I have stopped taking my medication on several occasions in favour of therapy and the support of my family. It's a decision that was often rooted in self-denial and resentment. I'd often ask myself, "How can you treat a diagnosis that you haven't come to terms with yet?"
Despite this, alternative support systems aren't always enough to keep the dark episodes at bay.
It's this realisation that set me on the journey of understanding that my little pink tablets are one of the things keeping me alive and well, and forced me to face my experiences head-on — just like Maggie.
Writer Camilla Whitehill's decision to dive into a topic like medication, with nuance and care no less, really cements why Big Mood marks a significant shift in mental-health representation on screen.
It's not often you encounter open discussions on the crippling side effects of certain mental health medications, paired with their life-saving benefits. Just like in life, it's a hard balance to strike on screen, yet the show hits a home run.
Big Mood does miss the mark when it comes to accessing psychiatric care, though. It's not as easy as just ringing up for a same-day appointment. That's a whole other can of worms.
What the show does prove is that it's the little things that have the biggest impact, such as Maggie's Love Actually-themed birthday party, where we get a glimpse of peeling plasters scattered down her forearms.
It wasn't over-dramatised, and it didn't need to be.
Instead, the plasters were left to speak for themselves. It was a subtle and meaningful reveal that ultimately deepened Maggie's character.
As the series moves on, so does Maggie and Eddie's friendship. Big Mood deftly explores how difficult it can be to be there for someone with a mental illness, knowing that they can't always give that support back (through no fault of their own).
This scenario is played out in the final episode as Maggie's lithium dose proves too much and she starts to black out.
Surrounded by the hypnotic beat of Self Esteem's 'I Do This All The Time', we are thrown from one part of Maggie's day to another, unable to fathom where or what she's doing — similar to the cruel workings of her mind. What we do know is that she's supposed to be supporting Eddie through an abortion.
When Maggie doesn't turn up to the appointment, Eddie is faced with a decision, one that isn't exactly hopeful or joyous.
In a way, I'm relieved the show ended on a cliffhanger. It seemed only right to mirror the real workings of life. Things don't always end up the way you'd anticipated – it's the steps you've taken to get there that are worth noting.
The dark humour is great (it is what us Brits do best), but it's the darkness fizzling beneath the surface that makes this show worth your time. We're finally not the butt of a joke, but rather the centre of a beautifully authentic story. Granted, Big Mood is a hard watch at times.
But it's also a very important one.
Big Mood is available now on Channel 4.
