As I prepared for a long weekend getaway, I was unaware that I was slowly descending into a depressive episode. The excitement of packing distracted me from noticing changes in my mood. It wasn’t until I snapped at my children for trivial things that I realized something was amiss. I felt a wave of guilt wash over me, leaving me teary-eyed as I pondered how they would remember me. Standing in our kitchen, I took photos of my kids: my four-year-old, beaming in his dinosaur hoodie, my six-year-old dressed in black, and my eight-year-old, grinning excitedly. I cried over those pictures at the airport, overwhelmed by the juxtaposition of their joy and my sorrow.
My frequent tears have become a familiar backdrop for my children. They know that their mom has bipolar disorder, a condition once called manic depression. When I’m spiraling down, I might cry out of frustration when my youngest won’t stop crying or when a burnt lunch leaves me lost for dinner ideas. I even shed tears in Target, moved by the sight of a Black girl playing Meg in A Wrinkle in Time — a moment that feels groundbreaking for my sons.
Our family often discusses my mental health. We talk about why I cry and how I take medication, even if it doesn’t always work perfectly. My kids understand that tears are a natural part of my condition, and I do my best to shield them from the most intense parts of my struggles. I hold it together until my husband comes home, and then I retreat to the bedroom, often sobbing for a long time. In these moments, thoughts of suicide creep in, but the thought of my children brings me back to reality.
Then there are the manic phases, where my energy surges. I become a crafting whirlwind, fueled by enthusiasm. My kids create intricate models and engage in various projects, and we fill our days with adventures — trips to parks and stores. However, mania has its darker side. I may overspend at stores, and while it doesn’t directly harm my children, it does show them that I sometimes buy unnecessary things. At home, I can become consumed by sewing, leaving my kids to entertain themselves.
During these high-energy periods, I can be fun and engaging. I read silly books, squirt whipped cream into their mouths, and encourage their creativity. While our house might not be tidy, the kids are happy, and I can often hide my tears behind smiles.
Medication plays a crucial role in my life. My bathroom cabinet resembles a mini-pharmacy, filled with medications for various conditions. Since starting lithium at 33, I’ve experienced greater emotional stability. I now recognize the signs of a downward spiral and can adjust my treatment accordingly. This involves frequent doctor visits, which my husband helps coordinate. While my children may find these appointments tedious, we frame them as essential for my well-being.
It’s important for my kids to know that I am sick, not “crazy” or overly emotional. Some days can be challenging when I’m alone with them while battling the inner turmoil. I reach out to friends and family for support and often resort to turning on the TV to ease the burden. But most days, I manage to keep it together. A friend recently expressed surprise at my bipolar diagnosis, as my manic highs often come off as simple enthusiasm. Unfortunately, my lows are more hidden, though my kids see them and have learned to adapt. I wish they didn’t have to, yet I hope this experience fosters compassion in them.
In the end, while this journey has undoubtedly taken a toll on their innocence, perhaps it has also equipped them with empathy. It’s a challenging trade-off, but one I hope will lead to understanding.
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Summary
Being a mother with bipolar disorder presents unique challenges, from managing emotional highs and lows to ensuring that children understand the nature of the illness. While navigating through manic phases can be filled with creativity and joy, the depressive episodes often result in tears and guilt. Open conversations about mental health and the importance of medication help the family cope. Despite the difficulties, the hope is that these experiences cultivate compassion in the children.
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