widget, I have been lucky that my family realized pretty early on that there was something wrong with me, even if I was not diagnosed with bipolar until I was in my late twenties. It hasn't been easy, but if there was one thing that this diease has taught me is that I can't take things for granted, and that I am not perfect. It sounds trite, but a lot of people don't realize how much of what they have has come to them by way of luck or by way of their parent's position in life or some other random thing. Thanks to this thing, the role that such luck plays is something I can't forget. This is soemthing that has helped me in my work with patients and others I meet, and it has helped me when it comes to dealing with issues that come up in the church as well.
I also learned that I didn't chose this, but I am responsible for it. I take my meds, because I am responsible for how I allow this illness to affect my children and my marriage. I also take my meds and take regualr bouts of therapy to reamin gainfully employed, because I am a part of society and mean to contribute in what ever way I can to the greatest extent possible. If I find I am going Hypomanic anyway, I self solate if I can, because I know I can get explosive oroverly flirty, and i know I can hurt feelings or damage my marriage. Once i know, I feel I have the responsibility to act on the knowlegde as best I can. There will be limits. But I find my life is richer and my self respect is greater once I decided that this would be the way I handle with living with this particular charateristic. Hard to call it an illness even, at this point. Handicap, perhaps.
I have two children, and although, I know there are times I have not acted as I would want to with them, they are healthy and happy, and they have a life with friends, activities and interests and enjoy being with their parents as well. I have a husband who likes talking to me about his dreams and hopes and even can be a silly ninny around me and the kids if he feels like it. I am safe, have a job I love and that I feel I can contribute to. Not bad for being "chronically mentally ill". I have a nice dog too and a few nice rats in the barn, but i don't usually count those.

It has been very hard getting here. I have traumas from my bipolar problems and the experiences that my moods and delusions have gotten me into. I have a very hard time explaining to people who don't know me that well tht yes, I act like a kid in my twenties, but there is a side of me still standing in the trenches in 1918 that will always be there. This illness has left scars and I am not happy with all of them. Still, One can be happy with life, dear. and really, I think I can say that I am. HUGGGSSS