I have bipolar disorder and I am not patient. Oh, I’m sure that at one point, anyway, I had patience, because I raised three sons (plus a stepson). So I had to be patient to do that, right? But I’m sure impatient now. Just stick me in a checkout line, if you don’t believe me. Actually, stick me in any line! I hate to wait. Especially at the doctor’s office. I figure I had an appointment, they should take me at my scheduled time but no, they are never on time, never. But God forbid if I’m late!
I just hate to wait.Like right now I’m having to wait on my mom to get better from her bipolar episode, and it’s not easy. I mean, she’s much better than she was, but she’s still not recovered, and she’s still not herself.
At least she’s still in reality now, though, and that’s good. But she still talks so much! She calls me every morning and just talks my ear off, about every little thing, jumping from subject to subject. I can’t keep up with her. And such minute details. Like about what she ate, or what she bought at the grocery store, or the stranger she saw there. I just let her talk and say uh-huh in all the right places, cuz she needs someone to talk to, and I want to preserve the bond that we have.
But she is still very emotional, and sometimes cries easily, and that’s hard. And she’s still very childlike, which is also hard, because sometimes I feel like our roles are reversed.
God, how I hate bipolar disorder and what it can reduce you to. I can only imagine what I was like during my episodes, as I can’t remember them. One thing I do remember was being so manic and cutting articles and ads and recipes out of magazines almost frantically because I felt they were so important and I felt a pressure to do it right then, as if they would disappear if I didn’t do it. And it was all so important, like a mission.
After the episode was over, I looked at all my “files,” and none of it made any sense – I couldn’t see any importance to any of it and ended up throwing it all out. But oh, it seemed so important to me during that episode. Gosh, how we can get so sidetracked by our bipolar, can’t we? It can cause us to do so many things we wouldn’t ordinarily do.
Every time I talk to Mom I pray for patience with her. I wish I weren’t so impatient. I hate being this way. I know she’ll get better in time. And I know that this is the bipolar and not her, and I always try to keep that in mind whenever I’m dealing with her. That helps.