Two Sons

Two Sons ~ 9.10.18 ~ blog entry

I have two sons.

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One who loves me, treats me adoringly, helps me in any way he can, is creative, helps his friends, extends kindness to *misfits* at school, and is all around loveable.

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I have another son who has black eyes, misreads and misunderstands things you say, becomes loud, belligerent and cruel, and is not only emotionally abusive, but physically abusive as well.

Unfortunately, both of my sons live in ONE human body. He has Bipolar, and he faces these awful hardships brought with it.

Even sadder, he inherited this from me.

Between our two human bodies, reside four people. I’m glad that we are strong enough to know that when it all settles, we love each other very much and are trying our best.

But my gosh, what a heartbreaking challenge. Within two days, each of us have expressed wanting to be done with Bipolar, done with this world. (I didn’t say that in front of him, of course.)

However, imagine your child coming to you and saying that he feels so awful and hopeless, that mom better take his medication into her room for the night because he is considering swallowing all of them.

So, tomorrow we set out for more help. On this day in particular, World Suicide Prevention Day, I found it important to share our story.

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Love yourselves and each other. Take care of yourselves and each other. πŸŽ—πŸ™πŸ’›βœŒ

6 thoughts on “Two Sons

  1. Jen,
    I am praying for you and can not help but post this – πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘
    You and Steven have come so far together in this often crappy bipolar journey. I look to you both with hope.
    I am dealing with a loved one with bipolar and an opioid addiction. He is now in my home and I pray continually for God’s guidance in my every move, my every word to him. I know God will get us thru this, though I do not know the future, and to be patient is hard for this young man.
    I am thankful you shared your story.
    Gina

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  2. I am sending my entreaties to all the powers of the divine to bring you and Steven strength and comfort and endurance. This is so hard to endure, but keep fighting – it does get better, you both know this (after too many times on this roller coaster). Keep holding on. Keep struggling to be your better selves, knowing that there is another (a better) you in there, fighting to be free, fighting to breathe. And remember you do not struggle alone. I hear how tired you sound. Draw strength from the divine, from your friends (we’ve been there). You don’t have to struggle alone. You are not in the battle alone. We are here. I am here. I love you both. I admire you both. I offer what little strength I can. We are a community of kick-ass survivors.

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  3. I can relate to this. I have bipolar disorder and my younger daughter has borderline personality disorder. We also both have PTSD from abuse, and a whole slew of other lovely crap. She’s 28 now and doing well, but I remember the midnight calls, the visits to the ER, hiding pills, blades, and all the guilt I have felt for passing along these horrific genes.

    Liked by 1 person

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