Who knew we would say those words 3 times to 3 different loved ones in the same household. My whole life I felt like a peg in a round space. Once the diagnosis came it fit but with it came confusion, fear, anger and those perfect words from a near perfect man “I won’t love you less.” Treatment came, medication, side effects, throwing up, stressing out, outpatient program.
13 weeks saves my life. Then my 10 year old saying “I don’t want to live anymore,” showing signs of depression. Doctors, hospitals, medications, side effects, diagnosis Bipolar II. There were those words again: “We won’t love you any less.”
Then the words revisit us again with our older daughter, and again those kind rescuing words after: “We won’t love you any less.”
Bipolar has touched our family three times, each with a hard hand, yet with a gentle learning hand. My children were all educated on mental illness at a very young age. They are compassionate and avoid stigma, they are advocates. I think in all things there are ups and downs but they are easier when sandwiched with the perfect words “I won’t love you less.”