I knew very little about bipolar disorder when my son was diagnosed. My knowledge was limited to the assumption that there were tremendous, manic highs…followed by deep moments of despair. I don’t know how I came upon this preconceived notion…but I’d never realized that depression could manifest itself in the form of annoyance and intense irritability.
Extreme, prolonged, intense irritability.
Yikes.
I’d written off T’s seething annoyance as everything from fatigue to hormones…and I still believe that a lack of sleep is a recipe for disaster. Or at minimum, it sets the stage for one hell of an argument.
I’ve learned over time that arguments with T are frequently dramatic, regularly intense and oftentimes draining. I used to panic at the depth of his anger…I’d have this sense that our relationship was on the brink of devastation and I’d fear that we’d never be the same again.
I’ve since realized that like a summer thunderstorm, his anger is powerful…but it blows over quickly. I also recognize that most of the time, my unconditional love makes me the perfect verbal punching bag for his frustration and mood swings.
And yet. This is the same guy who’s wickedly creative, with a wry sense of humor and the ability to deliver a joke with remarkable comedic timing. He’s charming, sensitive and will spend an inordinate amount of time helping a friend work through his problems, without any expectations or agenda. He cares deeply…about everything.
That intensity seems to be at the crux of his personality. There is no middle road with T…he moves at warp speed and lives his life with unbridled passion. You can’t help but to get caught up in his enthusiasm…to find yourself being swept up in the wave of emotions that make up a typical day in his life.
This spectrum of characteristics makes T one complicated guy. Being in a relationship with him can be exhausting…and exhilarating all at the same time. He challenges you to love him for who he is…and he has high expectations for himself and those around him.
If I said I didn’t have some concerns for his future, I’d be lying. T can be unrealistically impulsive…and he’s very much a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kinda guy. I’m not sure how that will translate into adulthood. I hope that with age, he may become a bit more practical…and a bit less reckless. But I hope he can maintain the qualities that make him the unique and extraordinary person I’ve grown to love.
As I’d expect, there may not be a middle of the road…for it’s all or nothing in the world, according to my amazing, complex boy.
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This is the second of two posts written by Kathryn on loving someone with bipolar. The first post is Your Mood Swings are Giving Me Whiplash.
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Anna 8 Mar 2010 @ 8:01 pm
The intensity of T must be draining at times. I would really love to hear your strategies for maintaining you own sanity and emotional strength when you are worn out by him.
lynn 12 Mar 2010 @ 11:18 pm
My thirty year son has bi-polar also and is presently in prison for crime he committed while in an panic mode. Needless to say it has been a nightmare for him and his loved ones. Can anyone give advice on how to cope with the heartaches I face everyday in feeling like I have failed him as a parent?
release_the_bats 12 Mar 2010 @ 11:32 pm
I have loved someone with rapid cycling bipolar disorder. I am an experienced researcher in psychoneuropsychology and other areas of psychology, which helped immensely. When we met he was badly misdiagnosed, which became very clear to me early on (those intense and sudden “arguments” were illogical and betrayed signs of hyopmania.) His diagnosis was “generalized anxiety disorder”. He was unmedicated, had lived a horrific life – alcoholic abusive father, mentally ill but never diagnosed mother who was in & out of the biggest mental institution in the city regularly. His memories of her were sketchy – cooked & kept beer for his father well stocked. His memories of his father were far more vivid. His only other relationship scarred him so badly he never dated again. I have lived with Major Depressive Disorder my entire life. At times a good day was getting out of bed. A great day was getting out of bed and brushing my teeth. At other times I won scholarships & topped the Dean’s List (always with tremendous struggle because depression never left-it merely..well, that’s another story). When I met him I found him easy company: His quick wit, offbeat humor & keen intelligence made me laugh & was good medicine. But I warned him that people with GAD didn’t wake up in psychiatric hospitals having stumbled in after losing time. There was mutual attraction but the point was never pressed & we were both shy about it. One day after sharing a coffee, bundled in his big parka, he gave me a big, long hug, our usual parting gesture. Then another. Finally he turned to leave, took about 8 steps, then rushed back, gave me a chaste peck on the lips and ran away quickly as if terribly embarrassed. I was smitten. Our courtship was difficult to say the least. And not just the “turning on a dime” temperament. The excitement of falling in love was fuelling his mania. I had to learn to be vigilant for small indications he was beginning to spin out. He had to learn to listen to me – which was very hard for him – and take such observations seriously. I had to set boundaries, which I was always notoriously bad at. And we fought! We eventually started to live together. I had already been helping him set up psychiatric appointments with specialistsand accompanied him every time, most of the time being allowed to sit in. He rarely suffered from depression – more “melancholy” or “pensively sad” occasionally than seriously depressed. He was mostly manic – VERY HIGH manic. As bad as anyone I’d every seen, even in teaching hospitals. Most phenothiazines were like candy to him. He slept poorly but often drifted off with his head on my chest listening to the regular beating of my heart while I played with his unruly hair, both of which soothed him. One day I noticed my credit card was gone. He didn’t come home. I cancelled the card although very little had been charged to it – a case of beer for some friends. I phoned every hospital, every shelter, every acquaintance..I was frantic. Two days later I got a call from the only purely psychiatric hospital in the city: Did I want them to mail my credit card to me? I asked if he was there, if he’d been there. That was confidential. I raced down there in a taxi, walked into the ICU and asked to see him by name. They pointed to a room at the end of the hall. When he saw me he wouldn’t look at me. “Why didn’t you just let them mail your card back?”, he spat out., “Why did you come here?” It wasn’t anger at me – it was at himself. Manic people have very poor impulse control. The card was on my purse – it was an unthinking gesture. “Look, I’m sorry. I know I ruined everything. I know…over nothing! Just leave me alone, please…don’t make it worse!” He looked so small (he was not a large man) and vulnerable – fragile even – in his hospital gown. I took his head in my hands and forced him to look at me. “Why?”, I asked. “I don’t know!!” And I knew he was telling the truth. I held him close and kissed him gently. He looked confused. He couldn’t understand how I could take him back – how I could still love him? He started to weep openly. I hopped onto the bed, put his head in my lap and stroked his hair…I don’t think anybody had ever forgiven him for anything.
The moment of truth for me came when he had his first psychotic break. I woke up one morning and he was gone.He showed up two days later covered in mud and confused. I’d been sick with worry. I called an ambulance but he became openly hostile (though he was NEVER EVER physically violent with me or anyone else, he could cut you with words…that ugly argumentative belligerence so typical of mania or rising mania.) The police were dispatched and he was handcuffed and made to ride in a cruiser. Ugh! I will tell you there is almost nothing worse in the world than seeing the person you love most in life-someone who is part of your soul (because this happened several times through the years) completely delusional with 2 200-lb security guards leaning on him while someone else fastens him to a hospital bed with big leather buckles in the 4-point position. Straining until the veins on his head were popping, he was under the impression it was a secret black-op mission and I was the spy who turned him in for reasons I never understood. I was terrified, horrified – no training or research had ever prepared me for this. I bent over to kiss his forehead and he spat in my face spewing a string of vulgarity at me that I’d never heard him use. (He later claimed it was impossible he had used that language with me; he refused to believe he was capable of it. I said I understood he was in a world of fear that didn’t correspond to reality.) I wept softly outside his room. He didn’t want me there. The nurses said I wasn’t welcome if he didn’t want me there. I left my University windbreaker with his name written in it and a note saying I loved him. It was the 5th month we had been living together. That was when I made my decision to not cut bait. Many wonderful (and often horrible) times ensued. Years..Overdoses on anything he could get his hands on to ease his anxiety (I eventually bought a small safe to keep my own drugs in to prevent this). Once he was almost unconscious in ICU for 12 hours. 2 hours later, after rousing to full consciousness he’d been moved to a room. One hour later he flew into a psychotic manic state yelling into the phone he’d been taken prisoner, ripped the IV out of his arm so violently that long blood streaks lined the hall he ran down in hastily donned jeans and hospital gown and tore off into a stairwell. The nurses assured me security had been alerted and would catch him. I shook my head with tears in my eyes and said, “No they won’t”. “Sure they will – they’re waiting for him and it’s 2 am.” At 2:30 I was standing in a hospital parking lot yelling his name into the darkness. Three days later he turned up at a psychiatric hospital, confused and unsure what had happened. We were never married in a church, but we did exchange vows and rings, with a friend as witness. I told him I promised that no matter how ugly things got I would not run away; I would never abandon him. I asked if he could honestly say the same thing. He did. I know friends who exchanged traditional vows (which i believe our sentiments sum up) in a church ceremony who were divorced after having childlren when my man and I were still going strong. Through a severe depression and some ugly family and chronic physical problems, he was always there for me. He was attentive, sensitive, and free of any machismo or need to do anything but BE with me. I loved him like my own life. I’d been betrayed by men before. With him *I* noticed beautiful women. He didn’t even take a second look. I once asked if he ever thought of suicide (a place I’ve visited many times). His answer was, “No – I”d never kill myself. Never. But I do believe that when death comes, it will be the only cure for what’s wrong with me.”
An understandable opinion: The constant merry-go-round of medications, the combinations, the side-effects, the drugs for the side-effects. His mania was extreme and intractable, and I don’t need to remind anyone who has loved someone with mania how long it can take to get an even mildly adequate combination.) He had to take leave from work. It was a difficult time. But there was something wonderfully childlike in his wonder at just being loved. He doted on me when I was sick – and often when I was well. He was unashamed to go buy me tampons or ask if my period was troubling me…it didn’t matter to him. It was just part of what love meant. He always had my latte ready and every morning without fail greeted me: “Good morning Sunshine! NOW the sun is officially up!”
There was something zenlike about him just being in the moment all the time. I learned so much from him. I learned to have a real relationship – an honest, vulnerable, no holds barred relationship.
Two days before we were finally financially able to manage our own small one-bedroom we were packed and excited. He had been dong much better for a year – back to work, far more stable, in a CBT group, trying meditation with me. He still had terrible panic attacks. He still had to be very careful. He still slept poorly. You can only take so much medication. But it was better. No more disappearances, no more frantic “where could he be” nights for me. That night we barely slept and woke up early. He was joyous, danced with me, delerious with finally “being able to properly provide” a decent place for us. But no sign of mania whatsoever. Just happy. We had breakfast and took a nap so we’d be fresher to meet the realtor that afternoon. I fell asleep with his arm around me and his breath on my neck.
An hour an a quarter later I woke up and found him dead, in our bed.
He was still warm.
I dragged him off and furiously started compressions with a phone under one ear calling an ambulance.
Hours later, those terrible words.
“I’m sorry ma’am…there’s nothing else we can do.”
He was 38 years old.
The official cause of death was sudden unexplained cardiac arrest.
“Fibrillation – it happens to us all sometimes. Usually the heart gets rhythm back again. Very rarely it doesn’t.”
A little over a year has passed since then – that first year during which I almost never left bed and wanted to die. I took a lot of sedatives to dull the pain enough to live through. I miss him. I MISS HIM WITH MY WHOLE BEING.
I don’t believe in a soul that survives death. I wish I did. Most days I feel like I”ve been in shock for the past year. That I’m just realizing he’s not coming back this time. Like part of my very self has been ripped out. I’m not sure who I am anymore. I see his beautiful face lying cold in that horrible coffin. I cry every day. Perhaps one day memories will be a consolation, but right now they are like acid – like stingers spearing my heart mercilessly.
I don’t regret one single moment. One night of worry. One huge fight. One horrific episode. Nothing. He taught me to look at the world with the wonder of a child – not childishly, but with a childlike heart. He taught me so much. I felt so loved. I had something, if only for a brief time, that some people never know their whole lives.
In memory of my beloved husband, and dedicated to anyone who knows the intense joy as well as the frustration and pain of loving (and being loved by) someone with bipolar disorder.
release_the_bats 13 Mar 2010 @ 12:04 am
Lynn: I do not think you have failed him. Mania causes the most extreme behaviour. My husband was also arrested for a misdemeanor one night (he left his bag at a convenience store some drunk friend broke into – they stole 2 cases of pop…his ID was in the bad – some criminal, huh?)
Unfortunately an office in the Psychology Department at the University was broken into and an expensive computer stolen. He was going to a meeting – AA, to keep him clean and sober – and it was a Sunday. Because he knew the building (having visited me there) he stopped to use the bathroom. He couldn’t get in through the regular doors, so he tried the loading doors, which are supposed to always be locked on weekends. He found a bathroom on the lower level (the research labs are housed there) and saw a computer, a nice one, sitting in between the foyer doors. When he’d fnished in the bathroom it was still there. He waited – probably not as long as he thought he did – and nobody claimed it. He knew I needed a new computer, so he brought it home.
When I opened the computer I saw it was someone’s. It had data sets on it. He was disappointed – he wanted to do something nice for me, but I told him we had to give it back. He agreed it was the right thing to do and wondered why it was sitting there. To make a long story short, when I phoned the professor whose computer it was she was tremendously relieved (it’s NOT easy to reproduce data sets). I said I’d bring it down, as she lived by the university. Then the Univserity police phoned and said I should bring it there. Then the POLICE police phoned. He was downtown talking to me on a payphone when he was arrested. He was promised he wouldn’t go to jail, that he’d be assessed by a psychiatrist, etc. Police are allowed to make promises they know they can’t keep to get a confession. He was frustrated, panicking, irritated and scared. He signed without reading to try to prevent a full blown manic panic.
I knew he didn’t do it, because the next weekend there was ANOTHER breakin, and he was home all weekend – he never left the apartment. It didn’t matter. The police had their man.
Three days later I watched as he entered the prisoner’s docket in an orange jumpsuit. I didn’t post bond because the province I live in, in Canada, is one of two that has something called “Mental Health Court”. It’s an entirely separate court with advocates who work hard for the accused. His look towards me when I didn’t answer if anyone would post bond would have killed if the daggers in his eyes had flown out. I started to cry. I left the courtroom I was crying so hard. I cried all the way home…I was at the end of my rope.
The mental health court thing worked out very well for him. It even got him into programs that helped him greatly. And because he complied in every way (signing in weekly for bail, making appearances in court whenever necessary) the charges were stayed – basically dropped. He died very shortly after that, unfortunately, but I was so proud when the judge said, “Mr..____,
you have exceeded the Court’s expectations and are doing an exceptional job in the betterment of yourself and your community. Good luck to you and I hope to never see you in my courtroom again. Dismissed!”
My point is, it’s NOT your fault.
Impulsivity is something it can take years of CBT and medication and whatever other therapies you try for someone with mania to overcome. They’re often very bad with managing money for this reason.
Find out the laws of your state.
Call your local government official. Find out what you can do, or what can be done in such a situation. Get psychiatrists or doctors or whoever you have to write letters testifying to his mental illness and the resultant effects it has. Petition anyone you can.
Don’t blame yourself. It’s hard loving someone with bipolar.
Boundaries are very difficult to set – you might set them off, you might scare them, you might make them feel unloved…it’s a high-wire act without training or a net.
Get as involved as you have the energy to.
Alexander Solzhynitsyn who wrote the Gulag Archipelago was one man who helped topple an entire totalitarian regime by telling the truth and sticking to his principles – not giving up, even when he was starving in a Soviet gulag.
“One man who tells the truth can change the world”.
Similarly, one person who is persistent can get LAWS changed.
Do not give up on your son, and DO NOT give up on yourself as a mother.
There are also places you can go to discuss how to offer safer surroundings or better structure or just understand things better.
Take advantage of them.
I don’t know where you live and I don’t know the laws, but you are not a failure. It’s hard. Love is not always saying “sure, okay dear”. I’m sure you know that. But sometimes manic people don’t hear that. Like I said, impulse control. I don’t think it would help one whit if I explained it to you biologically, in terms of executive brain function.
You need practical help.
Get it wherever you can find it, and my thoughts are with you.
I wish you the very best.
F.V.
james 13 Mar 2010 @ 1:14 am
Dear F.V.
I feel deeply saddened by your story, as I know other readers will be too. Words feel so inadequate to express sympathy.
Thank you for sharing yourself here, and then helping Lynn with your valuable comments.
James
Shanna 13 Mar 2010 @ 2:52 am
What a beautiful post! Your son is lucky to have such an understanding and compassionate mother.
I am bipolar and your description of your son – extreme, impulsive, passionate, and compassionate – describes me to a T. As I like to often quip, “There is no ‘pastel’ Shanna.”
I hope that someday your son finds someone like my fiance. He is a caring, stable, giving, patient and understanding man who provides much needed balance in my life. I often ask him how he can put up with me – my impulsiveness and passion often drive him to the brink of insanity. He tells me that, despite all of our struggles and the great chore of living with me (for I am fully aware that I’m no picnic or walk in the park), it is worth it. For, like your son, all of that passion has its good and light side as well as its bad and dark. I told him when we first met that I could not promise it would ever be normal or even stable, but that it would never be boring! Truer words, he says, may never have been spoken.
He loves me – all of me – for who I am, despite my mental illness. He accepts it and does his best to learn how to deal with me and help me when I’m having episodes or problems. His patience and solid presence has helped me calm some of my wayward impulses and made me a better and stronger person.
I don’t know what I’d do without him, truth be told. He is a very special man to accept me as he does, with all of my flaws and the hell I sometimes put us through (the irritability, flashes of righteous anger, the spending all of my paycheck at Amazon on an impulse and putting us in debt, the days of not getting out of bed, etc.)
I felt I’d never find a man that could love me and accept my mental illness so compassionately; one that would help me to grow and work through my darkest periods without turning his back on me or running screaming from the enormous task of it all. He says the ups and highs of our relationship are more than worth the downs and lows, and he makes me believe in myself.
My hope is that someday your son will find a woman that will love him so – that will accept him and help corral his more impulsive and passionate tendencies with gracious love, patience, and compassion. There are, I can attest, people out there capable of loving wild and wanton beings such as ourselves and someday, I have no doubt, your son will find such a mate. Namaste and best wishes to the both of you.
Shanna 13 Mar 2010 @ 3:03 am
F.V. – Thank you for sharing your poignant story; my heart goes out to you. I know my impulsivity drives my poor fiance to the brink sometimes – we have not been able to pay rent because I blew an entire paycheck buying books online once (it was a wild, rash impulse and I just *had* to have those books in that moment). Another time our electricity was cut off because I forgot to pay the bill (I am the epitome of the absent-minded professor).
Each time he quietly fixed things – his silence more damning to me than any angry words he might have thrown my way. Then we would sit and talk and he would ask me to try harder, to not do this again, etc. He was angry, of course, but he also understood it was part of my mental illness.
That does not in any way excuse my actions; please don’t think I mean it like that! I did – and do – very stupid things that put the both of us in a bind; I feel very selfish and awful because of it. But in the moment, when I’m doing it or buying those books or whatever, it all seems so crystal clear – so *needful*; saying ‘no’ to myself is almost not an option. It’s hard to explain…
Anyway, I think you are wonderful for standing by your husband and making the difficult decision to have him stay where he could get help. You did the right thing. I am truly very sorry for your loss, but I am sure that you made him happy while he was here. To have that kind of support, love, and compassionate understanding from your partner – well, it’s priceless. We know we can be very un-loveable sometimes; we know we are difficult, a lot to handle, infuriating, selfish, and all of that – we understand that we hurt our partners with our actions, even if, sometimes, we cannot help but do it anyway. When that partner loves us unconditionally – despite all of that – it gives you an inner peace that is indescribable; it gives you a sense of acceptance and compassion you feared you would never experience from another human being. I know that you gave this and more to your husband, because you sound like my Baret.
Thank you for being an advocate for those of us that suffer from mental illness; for caring, accepting, and loving. Thank you, too, for sharing your story.
Mary 13 Mar 2010 @ 3:05 am
I’m so sorry for you and your son. Please keep loving him. And I want you to know that your story sounds exactly like my life with my daughter. I am clinically depressed and have been very distressed at the vicious arguments I have been having with my daughter. Then, she doesn’t believe she said the things she did. She vocalizes constantly out loud to no one-usually cheering or laughing. It did not occur to me she might be bipolar. I’m sad that I may have given these genes to her, but thank you for giving me a starting point to help her.
Take care,
Mary
release_the_bats 13 Mar 2010 @ 10:51 am
Shanna:
Thank YOU for sharing your wonderful story – the view from the other side. I hear you saying how guilty you feel for being “selfish and awful” for your impusive actions that lead to financial troubles, etc. It disturbs me a bit. To be sure, there was ALWAYS something coming up, as you point out…it’s one heck of a roller coaster ride! And you have to be ready for almost anything. It helped that I know a lot about mood disorders, not only because I have one myself but it’s my chosen field of study – though it didn’t mean he didn’t drive me crazy sometimes!
But I used a method of assessing things, because sometimes his mania manifested as unbelievable arrogance, derision, megalomania…and since he knew my real Achilles’ Heels, he could cut my down to nothing with just a phrase. And if I cried, he’d laugh. And yes – later he wouldn’t believe he’d said those things.
My method was this:
I always asked myself what actions that have been hurtful or destructive can be directly linked to his mood disorder? Can this (x or y..whatever) be in that category? Is it typical of him (because everyone can manifest differently)? Is it typical of variations of the disorder in general?
If the answer was yes, we talked about it, we had some great help from a friend, a psychologist who has helped me with my depression for years – I mean, after the storm was over. And we talked about ways to help prevent it again. Which didn’t always happen – but…
Then there were about 2 occasions when I think his actions began with paranoia (I was having an affair, in his mind) but moved to truly malicious, with real intent to hurt – to take something away I loved. (He packed my 3000 plus CD’s into backpacks – some signed by dead artists, some limited editions…you name it), left the house while I was asleep, and sold them. He was not big on possessions – he’d spend a ton of money on things and lose them…cell phones, ipods, you name it. And he really didn’t realize how much music was – well it was a collection I spent 25 years and more building. I love all kinds of music. It ripped away part of my soul – and we didn’t have the money to replace them. Later, after the delusion passed, HE FELT TERRIBLE. REALLY REALLY – JUST DEVASTATED when he realized HOW DEVASTATING it was FOR ME. We tried in vain to track them down – they weren’t at any used CD shops and he coudln’t even remember if he traded them for something else – just a street transaction. He honestly couldn’t remember. He pounded the pavement with me looking for them, but they never turned up anywhere. To his dying day he felt terrible about this, and I think it’s because he knew there was real malice behind it, and it hurt more than he realized it would.
On one other occasion he did something similar: Again it was fuelled by a really stupid argument the day before over giving him some money because he (almost) always gave me his check since he knew it would be gone in 15 minutes if he didn’t. He was already half-way to another dimension and I knew he would spend it on something self-destructive. I take a considerable amount of medication. People can say what they want, but I can get out of bed. I have a severe chronic pain disorder, so some of that medication has street value (and I couldn’t phsycially get out of bed, even if I was feeling emotionally ok, without it). I learned to keep it in a locked room in a lock box. This time I had thrown in my wallet and all my ID plus our spare cash (though he didn’t know this).
We were packing up my mother’s old house – 40 years of stuff, it was backbreaking and emotional hell and he almost always made it easier because of his energy and willingness to help. I was exhausted, but I remember him coming in and putting my coffee down beside the old mattress we were using for a bed. I woke up an hour or so later and found him gone…damn. What was going on? But I continued to work because we had a deadline. At midday when I needed my 2nd dose of meds, I opened the room with a key I kept in a secret place. The lock box was gone. The whole thing. Just gone. I was in such shock I actually fell down. I get sick without that medication. I don’t abuse it, but you still feel withdrawal effects without it. Without benzos and the antidepressant I take you can have seizures. MY HEALTH WAS JEAPORDIZED. He had picked the lock with a thin knife, taken the box, and relocked the room. I ended up in the hospital trying to get just a weekend’s worth of meds until I could talk to my doctor. I’m lucky I had the prescription tags. Now THAT was deliberate AND malicious…and put my health at risk.
So that was my standard:
Was there DELIBERATION behind it?
PLANNING?
WITH MALICE – INTENTION TO HURT?
It only happend twice in almost 8 years.
But they were events that were serious enough to make me sit down with him and say we had to re-evaluate the relationship. He could not do things like that to me. They weren’t mere acts of impulse.
All the other craziness – yes…impulse, manic behaviour, even the really malicious language …I could see it wasn’t intentional.
We got through it. We both learned a lot about respect and boundaries and how love DOESN’T mean never having to say you’re sorry. It was tough to say the least. And it changed us both for the better. It changed our relationship for the better, ultimately.
But the things you’re talking about – they sound very much like classic manic behaviour – I know there’s that “need” for something unnecessary. It’s not logical, but it’s real for you at that moment. And absentmindedness – whoo! I mean, I could write a book about some of the stuff that went on with us. I don’t think you should consider yourself “selfish and awful” because the consequences are bad. I think the yardstick is, is it truly symptomatic of your illness? And it all sounds like it is. You can talk about how to try changing or reducing this behaviour – with your wonderful sounding fiance, your psychiatrist, your therapist – whoever you trust and can help. I don’t know if you’re taking meds, but maybe it’s … it’s your choice, and it’s a big pain in the butt to get the balance right (I don’t think you ever do), but it helps. Maybe if there are places you spend the money on regularly you could talk about locking you out of that account – e.g. Amazon – unless your fiance is helping you choose. Sounds like I’m saying you’re a child who needs supervision, but guess what? I even asked my credit card company to lower my limit, because it’s just too easy to buy stuff you can’t afford. We do what we can to make life as best as it can be. And it sounds like you’ve found a real pearl – a rare man with patience and boundless love. And it’s partly your boundless love that keeps him there, I’m sure. It was my husband’s boundless love, and appreciation of just being loved that was a huge – well it was just beautiful. It shone…it glowed.
I don’t know if that helps, but you can’t beat yourself up for things that are classic manic moves – they’re not really in your control. It takes years of CBT like I said, of whatever works for you to even begin to learn to control those urges. It really is like a state of possession. Like my severe depressive episodes. I’ve always told my phych friend it feels like being possessed by something dark, something malevolent that wants to destroy you. And in many ways, it IS exactly like that.
You sound like a beautiful person. An intelligent and aware person. And a very loving sensitive person. And also someone with bipolar disorder. And you know, I saw my husband change throughout our relationship…I saw him look to me for that acceptance which gave him the strength to keep trying. To be there for me the way I had been there for him. AND HE WAS – SO MUCH, at the worst times…
I think we made each other better in many ways.
We BOTH became better human beings. And for that alone, among so many other things, I will always be thankful he came into my life (in spite of the “all of that” – and believe me, there was an awful lot of “ALL of that”!).
Isn’t love powerful?
Don’t you feel so grateful that someone as wonderful as your fiance came into your life?
I’ll bet he feels grateful every day that someone as wonderful as you came into his.
I did – I mean, I never once considered leaving – no matter how often I swore up and down or cried at nights wondering if he was safe or DID think “selfish jerk!”. It’s natural. But you stop, you think, you assess, and you realize it’s not real selfishness, it’s illness.
And what a cross HE had to bear every day, just to get through the day! I had made a promise, a vow….that’s serious. I don’t take that lightly. I made it knowing full well it wasn’t gonna be smooth sailing. And I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was a little scared.
But I knew. I think going through all those things – it helps you to know. You know you can take it, because it’s worth it. And you also know that you have love so powerful to give it can help another person feel loved, accepted, special – all the things we all want to feel, whether we have a mood disorder or not. The giving can bring as much or more joy as the receiving.
I’m just grateful I had a chance to give that love to someone who deserved it.
I wish I had room to say all the wonderful things he did for me – the times he stood up for ME. The acceptance and love he made ME feel.
I once said to my friend (an eminent psychologist, married for about 25 years with a great family) that it sometimes felt like my relationship was 2 people standing on the edge of the world holding on to each other so tightly so that neither fell off.
His response was simply:
“I think that’s what most real relationships are Fran. I mean real, honest relationships, between people who know how unpredictable life can be. It’s a good way of putting it.”
So keep holding on to each other and may life bless you both so richly in your love for each other and in your lives in all ways.
It makes me happy to hear your story.
It reminds me that I helped bring some happiness and peace to someone who might otherwise never have found it.
So now I’m smiling – not crying!
Thankyou for that – and for sharing so honestly.
peace, grace, love,
Francesca
release_the_bats 13 Mar 2010 @ 11:05 am
Incidentally – you don’t have to be bipolar to sometimes be “un-loveable, difficult, infuriating, selfish, hurtful”.
I think the most “stable” people are that to each other often.
I think we ALL are.
Maybe it’s just a little more exaggerated in bipolar.
People hurt people they love all the time.
Maybe illness makes us think about it more and makes our relationships better.
I don’t see the “average marriage” doing too well out there according to statistics.
Just a thought.
P.S. Mary – you can’t feel guilty for the “genes” you may have given your daughter. It’s completely out of your control! You CAN have her evaluated by someone professional AND competent (fancy letters don’t always make you good at your job). This could be a road to healing whatever MAY be ailing her, and also healing your relationship.
REALLY — genetics is a total crap shoot, a roll of the dice.
You CAN’T beat yourself up for that. Please don’t!
Fran
release_the_bats 14 Mar 2010 @ 6:11 am
(This post was refused by moderators because I referred to something out of your control as a cr _ p shoot, which seems a bit excessive to me since it’s an actual game in casinos – but whatever…)
____________________________________________________
Incidentally – you don’t have to be bipolar to sometimes be “un-loveable, difficult, infuriating, selfish, hurtful”.
I think the most “stable” people are that to each other often.
I think we ALL are.
Maybe it’s just a little more exaggerated in bipolar.
People hurt people they love all the time.
Maybe illness makes us think about it more and makes our relationships better.
I don’t see the “average marriage” doing too well out there according to statistics.
Just a thought.
P.S. Mary – you can’t feel guilty for the “genes” you may have given your daughter. It’s completely out of your control! You didn’t ask for depression, and you certainly didn’t (couldn’t possibly no matter who you are) have calculated the genetic material you were passing on when you conceived her.
REALLY — genetics is total roll of the dice.
You CAN’T beat yourself up for that. Please don’t!
Don’t add to your sadness over something you had no control over.
Depressed people like us often feel guilty for things that aren’t in our control.
Like – if you lose a loved one suddenly, it’s normal for a person to feel regrets.
MY REGRETS get ridiculous…every word is scrutinized, every night I spent doing research late and didn’t come to bed….every fight we had. I have to remind myself of the good things (thanks again for helping with that, Shanna!) that I gave him instead of all the things I didn’t do right or could have done differently. It’s hard.
Try to make yourself as well as possible. You can’t help her if you aren’t able to function.
I don’t know how old she is or much else except what you wrote.
I get nervous about young children getting diagnosed with everything under the sun, but you determine what you think based on your circumstances:
You CAN see if she’ll agree to see someone professional AND competent (fancy letters don’t always make you good at your job).
This could be a road to healing whatever MAY be ailing her, and also healing your relationship.
by best wishes to you both
And thank you so much Kathryn, for your eloquent but honest articles. I remember that whiplash, but boy do I miss it. And yes, unconditional love does make us “verbal punching bag(s)” for all that frustration and anger. Which can be really frustrating and make you angry sometimes – it did for me, anyways. But knowledge of what’s going on is the key to having patience, no matter what.
Thank you for giving us the gift of your knowledge and experience.
Fran
Nina 15 Mar 2010 @ 8:22 am
I had a onset of severe depression at age 15, and I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself for how irritable I was. I realize now that it wasn’t totally under my control, but I feel like I caused my family a lot of pain, and took a lot of my parents’ attention away from my sister. Years later I’ve realized that she’s gone through her tough periods too when most of the family’s attention was on her, but I still worry that somehow my illness and irritability were selfish and harmful to her development (not to mention my parents’ mental health!). I’ve just started a blog to talk about some of the issues: http://www.reflectionondepression.typepad.com. Check it out if you’re interested.
Living With A Bipolar... 10 Apr 2010 @ 6:14 am
[...] If there is any solace in the aspect of living with a bipolar person, it may be in the idea that the same rich set of feelings that the bipolar person often fights with, can be focused in a constructive way. I found an interesting post on findingoptimism.com, I’ve read it a few times and really felt for the situation. In many respects, the following phrase from the blog could just as easily been taken from my life: … And yet. This is the same guy who’s wickedly creative, with a wry sense of humor and the abili… [...]
Talon Kimberley 20 Dec 2010 @ 3:43 pm
I am so moved by the experiences of you all. I am crying so hard. I’m dealing with a husband who’s in bipolar mania. He’s in denial of having any problem. Meanwhile, he’s been away from me for 3 weeks. The only way i knew where he was or what he was up to was noting all the spending he was doing with our bank acct. I have since stopped the acct, and he now considers me the enemy. He was 51/50 twice last spring, and is afraid if he comes home, I’ll send him to the mental facility again. He refuses meds and treatment. I love him so, and we’ve been together 20 yrs. I miss him, and worry about him night and day. I’m a wreck. Every time he’s called me, it’s to ask for money. He’s so delusional, he thinks he needs the money to start a ministry so he can preach the “truth” to those who’d listen to him. He’s going about telling people we’re separated and that I’m crazy/psychotic. He’s living off the kindness of strangers, and sleeping in the car.
I’m so lost. I have no idea how to get him back. I reported him to missing persons. Not that that would do much. But who knows.
Eventually they come down off the mania, don’t they?
Anthony David-Ubi 4 Mar 2011 @ 9:08 am
Dear F.V I can’t really express how grateful I am to you for sharing your story with the world. I also am in love with someone with mood swings. And I believe no one can really understand how it feels except they encounter same. Am sorry for you loss. Please accept my condolence. Its hard sometimes to please my partner especially when she’s in the mood.
Sometimes, I get easily tempted to feel she doesn’t feel the way I do for her. Other times I feel like letting her go so it won’t seem like am begging or forcing her to love me. When I think of letting go, surprisingly, she ends up doing something that shows she truly loves me. Its truly hard to love such kind person. I pray for a miraculous change.
I wish someone could help me out or make it a little bit simple to love her.
Leslie 5 May 2011 @ 6:00 am
Dear Relese
I love a man who is 39 and has bipolar we are now just over 16 months together. He is divorced with 2 lovely children. We met through a sosial network and started a year long friendship of just becomming really closed friends. I eventually returned from travelling over africa and eventually by chance found a job in Gauteng and then moved to Johannesburg and at the end we were about 10 min drive from each other. I invited him for coffee and we fell in love. With him I feel at home, he is my home and home is where the heart is. I spend every waking moment with him.
Our relationship was passionate from the beginning.. I started noticing the mood swings about 3 months into the relationship (at that stage I had NO IDEA how serious it is) After a romantic weekend he phoned me on a monday saying that he is heading to a hospital, he cant cope.
After just over 3 weeks he was released… after receiving shock treatment. I remember walking past him in the corridor, not reconising him, my beloved has become a nutshell. My heart broke seeing the one I love just vanishing. Very much like your husband, he suffered at a father who was a abusive monster and a unloving mother, He has been hurt in every level of his being.
I had no idea what a emotional rollarcoaster ride was awaiting me. I feel the doctors in South Africa is the worst proberly in the world. They had him on 28 tablets a day. Eventually the medical aid ran out and he was send home. I resighed my job and took care of him. He was at a manic manic manic low stage. I detoxed him, but he stayed on the medication prior going into the hospital, I found him one late afternoon in the bathroom slicing himself up with a knife (selfmutilation) I just broke down and cried the first time in front of him… a very dear friend came to my rescue and help us find a decent doctor.
After a week he started coughing up blood…
The doctors suspected cancer on his left lung, he went into surgery after 2 weeks leaving the mental hospital. After 5 hour operation and a 17 cm cut on the side. he was in hospital for just over 4 weeks and was in bed for just over another 3 weeks.
I still lie awake at night and thank god that I still have him with me. I will fight every battle with him even though he always feels alone when he is in his dark place. I love him so much, he has supported me in every crazy idea that I have had. We have had our battles.. I still struggle to understand bipolar. I read alot of blogs and the letstalkbipolar page.He is my own to love.
Release – I am so so sorry. I can just imagine the loss you feel. You have written a beautiful love story. Thank you.
Blessed Be
Bob McDonell 7 Jun 2011 @ 5:27 am
I too am in love with someone with bipolar. I can identify with so much of what you say. I have never been cared for so much by anyone. Since he’s moved in, he is constantly doing things for me and treating me in so many special ways. But when he’s in one of his manic episodes, my life is a living hell. I can’t do anything right. I’m dumb. I’m an idiot. Sometimes I can’t even talk without being yelled at and told how stupid I am. The weekend was like that. Yesterday I finally told him that when he gets in these moods it is best if I just don’t talk with him. And, rather than letting him wait on me hand and foot, I did things myself. At 11:30 at night he wanted to take me out to breakfast, not so much because he was hungry, but because he thought I was and it was his way of apologizing.
It is the hardest relationship I’ve ever had. Some people wonder why I don’t just move on. But I do love him. I see how much we complete one another.
Do I wish he’d take medication? YES! But he refuses because of his inherent distrust of the medical profession. He tries homeopathic remedies but they are not strong enought to help in his manic states. So I ride out the storm, knowing that it will pass.
Loving a bipolar takes strength and commitment. But isn’t that true for any love relationship?
Kiran 23 Jun 2011 @ 3:56 am
I landed on this page and couldn’t pull myself away when I started reading..and by the end I was crying. So deeply moved. I know someone with bipolar but I dont have to live with it. All I want to say is, you people have truly loved in your lives. What you share with those special people in your life..its beautiful. Its rare. And God knows how many hardships you have faced but that’s one thing you have been blessed with: to love someone purely and be loved back. I pray for all of you, for all your loved ones, and hope God gives you the strength to fight for them. Thank you for sharing your experiences and making me understand how greatly complex human love is. God bless you all!
Antoinette 6 Jul 2011 @ 7:22 am
Hi Release the bats
I hung on every word you were saying I too am well educated in the field of psychology and fell in love with someone who is bipolar its been 4 years almost and we have a 2 year old daughter.
originally he kept it “under control” but eventually it got worse and worse and just recently he was oficially diagnosed.
The medication helps but it doesnt cure the illness.
I felt so much relief coming on here and seeing these comments because we all have one thing in common-we are in love with someone who is bipolar and we cant let go-and we cant let them down. There is a part of us that questions why we’d allow someone to treat us this way but the other part of us that is crippled by love.
I would love to speak to you more release the bats my e-mail is
acharm@aol.com…Im so sorry for your loss of your love Im sure the pain is completly unbearable-however I think you can help other people because of the extent of your experience.
Thank you all for admitting to this “snake”
and for opening up your doors to other people that are faced with this terrible illness.
salsachips 18 Nov 2011 @ 11:13 am
At the risk of repeating what so many have already said, i too identify with the situations described. I have been having a desparate week where i have felt alone and this has really soothed my soul that there are others who experience these cycles of love and then of guilt after thinking “its best if we part” but not really meaning it.
All ive said to him is that i want stability, but after reading these posts i realise how this would aggrevate him. It just isnt possible for him.
Our background is that we met at a CBT group and clicked because we could identify with each other and were a great suport. However, we come to blows when something happens and we BOTH need support at the SAME time. This is why i get the niggles that he would be better off with someone else who is patient and calm and vice versa.
Im currently battling against friends and family who say the relationship is too difficult for eiether of us to cope with and they are sad to see me sad and dubious when im happy, wondering when it will be that im crying at the end of the phone re telling the stories of how awful he has been towards me.
The thing is also that my hormones get the better of me and for 3 days a month, if he says something that i cant deal with and pass off like i normally would, i lash out. I have hit him before to shock him into submission during an argument with his sharp tongue and done the same in the opposite when he has refused to speak, telling me he is angry with me, but wont disclose what it is so that i can rectify it.
My confidence is at an all time low, affecting my concentration amongst other things at work. My self esteem crumpled because i am believing the things he says to me, that i actually am an idiot and that i have ruined his mind by “making” him go on medication.
I have read all the posts to this point, but i cant see any mention of how anyone copes/deals with it. Do you say “we’ll continue this conversation tommorrow” and put the phone down? Do you walk away to the supermarket for an hour to let things settle? Do you call someone else round to intervene? Do you make an appointment with the doctor?
You see, i have done all those things and more, which i shall presume you have too, but the big that gets me is the guilt!!!
How can you walk away from the person that you love when they are feeling like that?
Is self protection the higher priority?
We have been together over 2 years now and i feel powerless, i feel like i am no where near to “cracking it”. I have read in an earlier post about setting boundaries and i think this is a key, but its really hard to do when i feel down or the situation doesnt lend itself to that.
As we have been together a while, it has been mentioned about more commitment, marriage and babies. It just scares me so :( His mother has depression and as mentioned on an earlier post, what if our child had mental health issues from us? Can i really stand by my vows in sickness and in health? (i have been married before and my husband could not cope with my hormonal outbursts and was poor support to me when my dad died, so its made me question whether my current boyfriend would do the same….altough as we have all experienced/mentioned, bi polar sufferers are very loving and loyal!) If i agreed to in sickness and in health and i walked away from him in an arguement to avoid listening to how much he wanted me to die and how much better off he would be without me and how he wont let me back in if i walk out the door and how i better had walk out the door because me being infront of him is aggrevating him (agghh! even typing it now makes my head spin with confusion!!)
so yea, in conclusion, how do you all deal with it?!
Sending out the loving vibes to each and everyone of you. My hat goes off to you (goodness me, he would hate me saying that! I am actually a little frightened that he might find out i have written this and go absolutely mad. I feel like im being deliberately defiant towards him. always on pins!)
ANY advice in this quagmire of desparation would be greatly appreciated xx