MY BIPOLAR MOTHER

I am the daughter of a bipolar mother. My experiences with my mother, family, and friends teach me everyone's reality is different and perception is the friend or the foe of the day. I am hoping my posts give insight to those who are curious and give comfort to those who see a parallel. I invite feedback and look forward to collaboration. It is my focus to spread joy, even on dark days. Smiles can be effortless or the workout of the day. Thanks for reading!

Monday, July 20, 2020

week three in the assisted living facility, bipolar person dealing with change




Saturday was kind of rough.  I know we found her a fantastic place but dealing with the change is difficult for my mother.  Change is never easy.



Dinner was a Masterpiece Baked Chicken Breast w toasted whole wheat bread green leaf lettuce 🥬 & tomato 🍅 w Mayo Dijon mustard tea & orange sherbet 1/2 cup! I did piece art & Thank You card w roses from Corner Store & delivered it myself. This is real me not BP me cause they must work w food supplies provided I like them ALL from chefs to servers! I put in Resident Suggestion for August to “Conserve Energy” by turning off lights when leave, keeping AC set temp & being penny wise w electric. Who knows?


I checked my mail-only junk mail. Did Art & went for walks. Met the dementia impaired residents again-pretty well extended them respect I’d want cause I sincerely feel marginalized. Like I’m some requirement or assignment. You do give a lot & such thoughtful touches- Am I so threatening that Bob will NOT talk to me unless I initiate talk first. Just no addressing the Giant Elephant In The Room-Me in what amounts to an Old Gizzer year round “boarding school”- no independent living At ALL How can you call NO DRIVING TO MY OWN DRS OR GROCERY INDEPENDENCE? It’s code for we’re more distance & others do what just few months ago I did for myself. I LOVE to cook, pot garden or decorate my outdoor area, to dine out lunch & engage in conversations & go places like 1/2 Price Books or Michael’s for Art/craft supplies

Even Travis & Jordan more distant like I am contagious w Old Gizzer Home. Like I’m not his Gram anymore but some pathetic warehoused version. What incentive is there for any healing or improvement when I live in the Old Folks Looney Bin? I swear Bob will NEVER set foot in WF again. What hell here? Thru thick & thin I am supportive & help, volunteer to help & at the center I am no more than car & few odds ends Purist essence me evaporated when I stepped foot in what is called “ Independent Living” to assuage everyone’s conscience for enthusiastically landing me here. I invite either one of you to live here a day then tell truth- this is NOT independence!!!! Who ever reads my texts anyway- I am inconvenient dent to I’m shoved in place not my definition of home but a cross between the Camp Crappy of your Childhood & An Enforced Staycation. Why try for healing in such a confined place?


Good Evening
Not trying to be a downer just letting you know this is the 16th text from my mom today...

I have NO voice & am invisible- why did you not take art with you, exchange for lamp cause I feel like an uncomfortable reminder to ALL this can happen you too- formerly vibrant unique human shoved into No Human’s Land! You truly believe this to be humane option- Bob go 1000 miles out way for his dog or cat-Did I ever have a son-in-law or he was just pretending to accommodate you? Years backing you in your Dreams, homes & all vacations just pile dusty forgotten family times & now it’s just day after truly boring days marginalizing to NOTHING! Why heal? We’re more humane to our animals than perceived “old ladies” then women historically devalued-I do NOT want this for You! Wherever Elvis is is better than........This is NOT relapse but the Sorry Truth
Do you know what it feels like just wait for ride get away from here. Counseling is WASTE time when NO future w decent options. You ride shuttle-it dictates when/where I can go no matter how decent friendly driver HELPLESS IS HELL!!!!!


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