Loving and Living with a Manic Depressive/Bipolar Person
He will hurt you. He loves you. He has taken the pains to really know you perhaps more than any other love in your life and he will use the knowledge to hurt you. He needs you terribly and he resents that dependecy and besides you are begging him to change, to give up the drinking, the pot smoking, the drugging. If you don’t approve then go away so he can find that just right mixture of happy in his concoction of “goodies” and by the way you’re a prude who won’t join in this wonderful feeling of bliss where only he can take you.
He will spin tales with you when he is up, about the house you will have, the journeys you will take, perhaps the family you will have. It has as much substance as if you were talking about Alice’s Wonderland. Well, at least you already have the mad hatter. Will you leave him as all those other people did who only pretended to understand him, or will he force you to leave when you come across an open letter on the table…a letter from a current lover who can’t wait to be with him. And this sexual promiscuity, by the way, doesn’t start when things go wrong. It is there from the beginning. Even in the first stages of falling in love with you he will be seeking sex, often threesomes, often women who will give oral pleasure. It is part of the sickness.
But when I started this I told you I learned something very important about myself. When John and I broke up, he was smoking pot in my mother’s backyard, my mother whose home was in a retirement community. He was smoking pot and playing Dan Fogelburg love songs on a boom box. When he was gone I experienced so much pain I wasn’t sure I could go on TV, not sure if I would fall apart. On some level I thought laughter and joy left my life when John left. It took me a year to realize that capacity was within me. John unlocked it and for that I am eternally grateful. He taught me to laugh to live the moment to savor midnight walks on the beach.
The wild ride was over. Some other woman would hop on. I did date a couple of manic depressives after that but as soon as I realized what they were I was out of there. I watched it unfold in two women who were friends. I came to realize I am basically an introvert that relied on them to keep me entertained. I wanted to be in that world they inhabited when they were high. I moved to the West Coast for four years. I ran into John when I returned. I had to remind myself this was the man I had once loved deeply. He was working as an agent and booking big talent acts in the convention center. John’s body had become soft. He had man boobs. I know that alcohol can destroy testosterone. He no longer seemed masculine to me. He had bad neck problems that required medication. I winced. I knew that was now another excuse. He asked if I needed an agent. I told him no I was filming a pilot cable show but maybe someday.
Bipolar- disorder-warning signs
- Bipolar Disorder Signs and Symptoms
WebMD examines the less common signs and red flags that may signify bipolar disorder, why bipolar can be so hard to diagnose, along with symptoms and signs of bipolar in teenagers.
The calls came on a Saturday when I had been shopping. My machine showed nine messages. The first one was from a woman I barely knew, she said she knew John and I had been close and he always spoke so highly of me. They had found his body Saturday morning on the living room couch. He was surrounded by empty bottles of wine (How can you be an alcoholic if you drink wine he would tell me), a bong, and bottles of pills. His friends disposed of them before the medical examiner arrived. I went to the memorial service. None of his three wives would stand up and speak for him. I did. I talked about a man, so bright, so creative and yes so loveable. I told the large crowd assembled in the shore of the Atlantic Ocean where his ashes would be tossed that John taught me so much, most of all that the gift of laughter, of joy lives within. No one else can give it to us. He told me when I saw him shortly before he died that there was no one he enjoyed walking the beach on a moon lit night with as much as me. +I think of him often when there is a full moon. I hope that finally John has found the peace that eluded him all of his life.
Did you really want to read this story? Maybe not, on the other hand, maybe at some point in a relationship you will remember what I wrote.
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