the life of zooey who happens to be Bipolar 2
My parents arrived last Wednesday afternoon for the long weekend vacation for Thanksgiving. It has been over 9-12 months since they stayed overnight at the house. They came to visit a couple of times during the day only to drive home that night due to church or other obligations. On top of that, my dad has a horrible back with multiple surgeries under his belt. It was hard for him to sleep anywhere but a recliner, which we didn’t have.
Fast forward to this weekend. We now have not one but TWO recliners. Our logic was, who would get the comfy recliner when binge watching Netflicks? Rock, paper, scissor? Two it was. There was room and we bought them. So no, no really excuse not the spend the night.
Good thing we had two. My mom, bless her heart, dislocated her shoulder a few weeks ago falling down a few stairs. Luckily nothing was broken, but the doctor asked that she sleep sitting as not not aggravate it any further. Score on the double comfy chairs.
After unloading their car (at 81 for dad and 77 for mom, I do the unloading now), we sat in the living room. Mom turned to me and said, “How are you doing?” I know what she meant. She was asking about my bipolar 2. It seems awkward to me to go into my struggles this fall with depression. It was the holiday, after all. It was the first day.
I remember their reaction when I told them. I felt their slight guiltiness at really nothing they did. I could see them remembering their comments about my aunt who has a strong case of bipolar 1 Now they had a daughter who was bipolar. The remembered sharing stories of her ‘antics’ of running around her son’s dorm in nothing but a bra and underwear. I also remembered their comments about why my uncle stayed with her for all these years. This was a topic of conversation whenever relatives from down south were mentioned. Stories. Lots of them. Judgement.
I swept it under the rug and said, “I got a promotion a week or so ago…” and redirected the conversation away from that topic.
Perhaps I am a coward. This is not denial of my condition. I can’t do this sometimes. I can’t see that look in their eyes.
So there it is.
buck, buck, bucky the chicken,