Opening Post

Bipolar: Worse with Age?

I heard a saying that goes, “The more things change, the more they stay the same.” Well, I don’t know what it originally applied to, but it sure can apply to my mother and her bipolar episode. She’s in the same condition as she was in the last time I wrote, sad to say. I wish I had some great news and could tell you how much she’s improved, but she just hasn’t. In fact, I’d even say she’s worse, but that’s because I look at every detail, every nuance.

I also talk to her every single day, so I guess I could judge. But judge fairly? I don’t know. I just wish I were more patient with her. I find it so hard to sit through a conversation (what conversation?) with her on the phone. She just rambles on and on and on… incessantly. It rattles my nerves. And I dare not sigh, or I’m busted! She’ll say something like, “I’m sorry if I’m boring you.” Then the guilt comes in.

See, I used to tell my mom everything. I did talk to her every day, and was glad to do so. We would talk about everything under the sun, never running out of things to talk about. It used to be a two-way conversation. Now, it’s just me listening to her ramblings, and saying “uh-huh” or “right” in all the right places to try to make it seem like I’m interested in what she’s saying. Oh, I try, but half the time I can’t even keep up with her! She’ll be on 3 different subjects in the same sentence! And I so often have to redirect her back to the present, or back to the topic we were talking about. It’s nerve-wracking.

I miss my mom so much. It makes me want to cry because I miss her so. This woman is NOT my mom. She is so childlike. I feel like we’ve reversed roles. I miss the mom I used to talk to every day and tell everything to. I hate what her bipolar disorder is doing to her!

The worse part is that her psychiatrist told her that her bipolar is going to get worse with age! Now, I’ve done a lot of research into bipolar disorder and I write about it all the time, and I’ve never heard that, but who am I to argue with a psychiatrist? But I wonder if that’s true. It’s at least working out that way in Mom’s case. I just pray it doesn’t happen to me.

Wishing you peace and stability,

Remember God loves you and so do I,


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