How do you cope with the things unsaid bipolar relationships? The things that weigh you down. Tie a chain to your heart and bolt itself to an anchor that can never be pried apart. The things that you needed to hear. The things you wanted to say. The things you couldn’t bring yourself to say out loud because of the potential consequences or hurt that might come along with it. These are some of my things unsaid. By sharing, maybe you’ll be inspired to acknowledge your own. To dig deep into your honest self and validate your own feelings, regardless of what they are. Sometimes the quiet days in bipolar disorder are freckled with the things unsaid.
Dad, I still remember when you didn’t show.
I was five years old. All my friends at school were drawing and I noticed one girl drew a really good star shape. Immediately I tried to copy her. I had never drawn a star before. I couldn’t get the hang of it though. My points weren’t pointy and why were there so many lines going everywhere? How did she make it so easily? I went home and asked to call my dad.
My parents weren’t living together at the time. It was like an on-again, off-again thing for a while. My dad was supposed to visit and I asked him on the phone if he could teach me how to draw a star. He said “sure”. But he didn’t come that night. He just didn’t show. I remember being so sad. And not allowed to ask questions because it wasn’t my business. But I was devastated. And I’m 35 years old now and I still suck at drawing a star. (Read more about Bipolar Relationships.)
Mom, I didn’t need to lose weight.
I was trying on grad dresses. I was 18 years old and getting ready to celebrate. I was an honours student with a stable and serious relationship. I worked, baby sat and stayed on top of schoolworkalways. I always tried so hard to make my parents proud of me. Like as if I had to be good enough for them to justify giving up their lives in order to have me. I walked out in my emerald green gown. It had Swarovski crystals in the centre. It was so pretty. My mom? She said, “oh wow that would look so pretty if you lost ten pounds.” I felt defeated and that still brings tears to my eyes, even now. I didn’t need to lose weight. I should have been perfect the way I was. I remember feeling the tears spring to my eyes but knowing I couldn’t let them sneak out. I just buried it. The hurt, the twinge I felt when she said it. And proceeded to walk on the treadmill for huge amounts of time hopeful I’d lose those ten pounds so that my mom would think I looked beautiful in my graduation dress. Spoiler alert – I didn’t lose the weight.
“You” never showed up for me.
Chances are the person called “you” won’t ever read this, but just in case, we’ll leave the name out. I was always in their corner. They got thrown out of the house around age 16 and was left to put together the pieces of their life on their own. They weren’t allowed to be a part of any family member’s life or else that member would lose their relationship with my parents. (Yes, I know thats f—– up.) I was told they were dangerous (all of a sudden) after being my best friend for 12 years.
But even so, every opportunity I had to stand up for them, shout their name from the rooftop, be their supporter, anything, I took it. I got in so much trouble at home for being their supporter. Apparently my loyalty should have been with my parents and only my parents. I tried everything to be the best I could be for “you” and it just wasn’t ever enough. Life events happened for me and you never were there. You never cared. You even belittled me for my excitement. Whether it was graduation, the birth of my children or even my wedding. You just never showed up for me. You always made me feel like it wasn’t a good enough reason to. I wasn’t worthy of that support. That kind of love.
Even though I had always given it so freely. So unjudgementally. I never received it back. Not a single time. Now, I’m at peace with it for the most part. I don’t invite you to anything because I just don’t want to. But it still stings to remember the things you said about my graduation and other life events that were really meaningful to me. (Read about the impact of bipolar disorder on relationships.)
I’m hurting, but I don’t know how to ask for help.
In grade 10 I lost the most important person in my life. She was my whole world. I was absolutely heartbroken. We lost her quickly and in a way that I couldn’t have anticipated. It was 16 days before my 16th birthday. The sadness I felt was one that I had no prior experience with. It weighed on me enormously and affected every part of my entire being. I was told to hold on to the memories. That she was sick. That I’d get over it.
But, truth be told, I’m 35 now and still not over it. I was hurting so deeply. I fantasised about death because if there was a place we go afterwards, maybe I’d find her. I was told that this was stupid. Change my way of thinking. But I was just so heartbroken and being a child, I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to handle such a deep and heavy emotion. I smoked weed and drank alcohol trying to numb it. I longed for her hugs. I missed her so much. It felt like everyone’s life continued and mine just stopped.
I’m still carrying pain from the past.
But, aren’t we all? Aren’t we all just pieces of what we used to be? Glued back together by trauma, mental illness, and the scattered pieces of joy that we sometimes experience. I know that I’m still carrying pain from the past. Sometimes I don’t even want to let it go because I’m afraid that means I’ll forget. I’ll forget them or the thing. And to prevent that, I carry the pain. The pain of loss, heartbreak, hurt, disappointment, and trauma. I carry it with every move I make.
I miss the version of us we used to be.
We used to be a big “happy” family. Well, the kind that swept all the issues under the rug. The kind that was seen one way but when we were apart was a different way. I got tired of playing charades. I wanted to be different. Model something different for my children. And, because of that, we aren’t how we used to be. We speak once every few months and you haven’t visited in probably a year. I’m learning that I can’t control what other people do, I can only control my reactions, words and choices. But, sometimes, I miss the big family we used to be. Even if it was dysfunctional. (Read about disclosing bipolar disorder in relationships.)
I’m proud of myself, but I’m afraid to say it out loud.
I wasn’t taught to celebrate anything about myself. I was taught that made me selfish and “full of myself”. So now as an adult, when I accomplish something that I set out to do, it’s hard to know if it’s okay to be proud. Even something significant. I try to make a point of celbraitng myself, just to show my kids that it’s beautiful to be proud. But, it certainly feels quite uncomfortable to say it outloud. Feels like my success isn’t good enough for celebration or pride. It doesn’t qualify.
I replay our conversations in my head, wondering if I said the wrong thing.
Unfortunately, I do this more often than I’d like to admit. It whirls and twirls until I’m in a dizzy frenzy not sure of what I actually said and what I should have said instead. Thanks anxiety. You’re a real treat.
More things unsaid you might find relatable:
- “When you blame everything on my bipolar, it makes me feel small.”
- “I’m more than my diagnosis — please don’t forget that.”
- “I don’t always trust my emotions either, but they’re still real.”
- “Sometimes I hide how bad it gets because I don’t want to scare you.”
- “I worry that you’ll leave when I’m at my lowest.”
- “The highs aren’t always fun for me — they can be exhausting and dangerous.”
- “I feel guilty for how my moods impact you.”
- “I’m scared you only see the illness and not me anymore.”
- “When I cancel plans, it’s not rejection — it’s survival.”
- “I’m afraid you’ll get tired of the unpredictability.”
- “Sometimes I wish I could explain what’s happening in my head, but the words don’t come out right.”
- “I need support, but I don’t want to feel like a burden.”
- “I fear you’ll confuse my bad day with a relapse.”
- “I want you to know how hard I’m trying, even when it doesn’t look like it.”
- “I still deserve love, even when I feel unlovable.”
Final thoughts
In the end, there will always be things unsaid. We can only do so much. Just remember to always stay true to YOU. You matter. You’re important. You’re worthy.
Related Posts
