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From a distance, I'd seen how much energy it took Nyla to keep her episodes under control: weekly doctor's visits, blood tests, complicated regimens of medications.And yet for all their problems, my bipolar buddies had always kept things interesting.And after sex, when I thought we'd both enjoyed ourselves, sometimes S would burst into tears. " I'd whisper, to which she'd cryptically reply, "I feel overwhelmed."Sara's life was a constant battle against entropy.While most of us are bored by too much routine, Sara was obsessive about hers, and as her boyfriend, I found myself joining her in it.But because Sara clung to the structure so fervently, I followed her lead. The parameters of our life together drew further and further inward, until we were living in a tiny, airtight box created by the quirks of her disorder.I became not only her enabler, but her progeny as well.
Yet despite this, more people than ever think they know what bipolar is -- a mixed blessing for those who suffer from it.
This article has showed me that I should not question her beliefs and tell her she is crazy, because this won't change a thing, also because she doesn't want to see doctors.
I just have to accept her and help her as much as I can." unhappy knowing that this disease is not curable but I know what exacerbates this disease.
"I hope it doesn't scare you off."Panicked thoughts raced through my mind. This was the odd humor Sara and I had already established, but I wasn't entirely joking.
I'd had several close bipolar friends, and had once been in a long-term relationship with a bipolar woman, Nyla, whom I still consider the smartest person I'd ever met.