Only upon his death did I reflect on his life and discovered he was also Bipolar. Two years ago I tried to get him to see a psychiatrist about the possibility he might have what I have. He resisted, like we all do, if I had known I would have been more insistent. I definitely did not expect him to give up.
Back in the 80’s problem children were diagnosed with ADD or ADHD and medicated. My son was one of them, he took his medicine faithfully, I made sure of that. At that time I did not know what was wrong with me, how could I understand his problem. Mental health was not researched or widely understood. I tried to handle him with love and understanding. Not like my mother, who just sent me out of the house and ignored me. When he was in his teens we clashed, by then I was diagnosed but on the wrong medicine. When I was on a mania we’d yell at each other when I was in a depression everyone would disappear. As I reflect when I was in a mania I would trigger him and that is why we would fight. We would say hurtful things to each other, he would run away and slam his bedroom door. After I would settle down I’d always apologize but the damage was done.
Unfortunately it just now that they are discovering Bipolar in children. It makes me think of all the times we fought, we were triggering each other. I miss him and wish he was still here so I could apologize once again.
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