She moved like me. That's what I noticed first. Her eyes and hands darted as she talked — playful, acerbic, digressive. We talked on past 2 a. She took another hit from the joint and passed it back to me on the dorm suite couch, as my brother fell asleep on my knee.
Bipolar relationships? What does that even mean? Is this the right way to describe a personal connection where at least one person has bipolar disorder? Thirty years ago it was a term from international relations, describing a situation such as we had during the Cold War where two states, the US and the USSR, had the majority of geopolitical power because they were the only two real players. For the Ancient Greeks, it was Athens and Sparta whose relationship was bipolar. Frankly, the older interpretation might make more sense. After all, is it the person who is bipolar, or is it the relationship?
I get asked about the sex life of the bipolar on a regular basis. Some of these people are partners of people with bipolar and others are the people with bipolar themselves. Well now. Keep in mind, none of this is to suggest that people with bipolar are any less capable of monogamy than others.
The longer you remain with your person, the ease of loving is replaced with snags, like an aging sweater—this is normal as you become monogamous, move in together, marry, have children. But it is another matter when you love someone with bipolar disorder. I have bipolar II and I am loved deeply, by a wonderful man who knows my every symptom, who helps me weather each storm in my brain. But, like me, he is far from perfect.