Many of the things I said and did were hurtful. I probably won’t ever get my lady back. She won’t even speak to me. I can’t say I really blame her either. Were I counseling her and she related the story of our breakup, I would tell her to steer clear myself. Finding out I was bipolar helped me to deal with the hurt I caused, but doesn’t undo that which is past. It would be a big risk on her part to get mixed back up with me on the promise that medication will help, who could be a good friend and suggest that she give me a ring.

So, yes it sucks to be Bipolar, and it sucks to love one. The main thing in the misguided other’s favor is that they can move on. Those who fall in love with the 1% with this stone to bear are not stuck here. They never experience the gray cerebral hell of everyone else being inscrutable, and not knowing if what one says or does will be the right thing. Ever. They can journey back to the light. We cannot.

Ash

I live each day appreciating how truly blessed I am to have found a psychiatrist who got me on the right meds within 6 months of my diagnosis. Of course, the bad news is that I ran around unmedicated for probably 20 years, and I didn’t get the diagnosis until my mania had almost cost me my family and my job. And how I did hurt those sweet people in my life. I can tell myself forever that I was manic and out of my mind, but I still have to look at those people and know the agony that I put them through.

I can look forward to my future. It’s my past that I’m not sure I can handle.

There is nothing I can say that will improve on such a beautifully-written and eloquent statement, except thank you so much for sharing it. I am humbled.