Intro.

Most recently I’ve read a post, in a sea of women trying to overcome difficult relationships, of one woman who wanted to know how to comfort her spouse. “Does anyone have a partner that is diagnosed Bipolar Type II? What can I do to help on off days?” The response wasn’t as overwhelming as the women who caught their on again off again boyfriends on social media talking to women. There was a measly 5 responses floating aside posts anchoring hundreds of helpful tips and relationship advice.

I hadn’t responded either. I am the diagnosed partner in that possibly difficult dynamic. I am the women who seems bright and airy most days, and then I’m restless and frustrated others.I am the women that can help you through the saddest thoughts and life experiences, and then physically can not pull myself out of bed at the worst of my disorder.

Before experiencing a world where people tried to cope with the symptoms of my BPII, I lived in a world where I didn’t understand the disorder myself. I stood up for days on end creating art projects or the start of novels only to have the energy tap out and not return for months. My depressive episodes felt so real and the emotions so painfully insufferable I lived with uncontrollable anxiety throughout my teens. I didn’t know what the day would bring, and the people around me didn’t know who they would encounter.

However, like most people suffering from something whether emotional, social, or physical my life continued. I had no way to stop my brain from functioning the way it did, so all I could do was try to make life as manageable as possible. I was a guinea pig for different therapies and medications until I found a cocktail that deemed me “stabilized”. I was one of the few that was lucky enough to find medications that made me feel good rather than okay. However, medication required a routine, something I was never good at, and I would go from taking them as prescribed for weeks and then forgetting to take them for months altogether. I however kept trying, and even with forgetting my medications from time to time becoming self aware to my symptoms was very helpful. I began to talk myself out of panic attacks and flashbacks. I was slowly beginning to remind myself that every group I passed by probably didn’t have anything to say about me. A lot of my negative symptoms had gone from weekly to scarce and I finally felt like I could function in every day activities.
But even so, some days felt like weeks and yet years escaped me with no indication of where I should navigate my life. I focused most of my attention on strings of complicated long term relationships just to work towards some sort of goal, and even those were affected by my mental health. and the mental health of those I gravitated around me.

I became rather good at pitching myself to prospective partners when it came to my mental health. Outside of my diagnosis I had (and still have) a can’t lose attitude and I was able to use technical words and charm to basically downplay what my disorder really looked like. It worked most times.
I had finally committed myself to another relationship, in the midst of a bunch of life tragedies surrounding me. My father had a massive stroke, and because of my emotions I had lost someone that was dear to me in the interim. The new relationship was a perfect distraction, it made me feel needed or kept me busy depending on its varying moods. And then I found out I was pregnant…