Sorry

Dr. Z once told me that being in a relationship with someone who has bipolar disorder goes like this:  "I love you to pieces!"  "I hate your face!"

He is, as in so many other instances, dead on.  When things are good, you have to soak it all up and tuck some of those memories away for later like a squirrel saving up nuts for the winter.  The time will come, again, when things are bad, and you have to try to remember why you continue to put up with the behaviors that come with the illness.

A person who has bipolar disorder may tell you that you're their sole reason for living and the reason their life is miserable within the same 24 hour period.  After spitting out the meanest thing they can think of to say or perhaps just pretending you don't exist in their world, they will eventually apologize.  Profusely.  Sincerely.  And usually with tears.  I saw it with Cory.  I saw it with Bob.  I see it with Tim.

You are then faced with the decision to be compassionate while simutaneously opening yourself up for the next attack or to stand firm that no matter what the underlying reason, the behavior was still hurtful, and your feelings mean just as much as theirs do.  Self-preservation, if you will.

It was extremely difficult to parent a child with these symptoms because you always had to carefully, from an emotional distance, sort out the intentional behaviors from the illness, and choose whether or not to lay down consequences.

That was hard work.  Because she was always sorry.  It's no easier to do with an adult in a committed relationship.  Are you compassionate and that's why you're drawn to be with men who have bipolar or are you just an easy mark?  Are you tolerant or are you stupid?

It's hard for me to deny someone I love an apology, no matter what the circumstances, when I have their naked, tear covered face in front of mine.  My first instinct is always to comfort someone who is upset.  I think that's how I've ended up accepting treatment I wasn't really okay with if I thought there was hope.

There was that look that I've seen on too many loved ones' faces that said, "I screwed up again.  I'm sorry I'm bad.  Do you still love me?  Should you?"  I'll do anything to make that look go away.  It hurts my heart.

The sad thing is that even when a person with bipolar is in treatment, there will still be waves.  There will still be episodes.

And I stand behind what I told Bob many years ago, "Whether or not you meant it doesn't change the quality of the pain for the person you hurt."