I've been thinking a lot about relationships lately. Or I suppose for me, lack thereof. I met a friend's daughter earlier this week, and I was so nervous. I'm not very good around kids, I have very little patience, and unless we're playing (I'm really good at being a kid), I don't know how to understand them on their level. I was so nervous, though, because I really wanted her kid to like me. My friend, Megan we'll call her, means so much to me. And if Megan's kid didn't like me, it'd hurt. Her daughter did like me, however. Smiling, happy, giggly. All 1 years old of her. It got me to thinking about kids...
I've always said I never wanted to be pregnant. Depending on how close you are to me, I've disclosed different reasons. One of them being, pregnancy scares the shit out of me. Having a living creature inside of you, relying on every single thing you do, is beyond terrifying. Another huge reason is *surprise* my mental illnesses.
To start with, I'm already pretty unstable. Add pregnancy hormones, and I'd probably be a tornado. Though, as previously discussed, I don't take medication. So, would I? To save my sanity, would I be medicated? But, now instead of just having my OWN kidney's affected by the lithium and my liver affected by the benzos, I'd be affecting a little developing baby. Now reason 2, It's still super uncertain of how mental illness is transferred genetically. As much as I've "embraced" who I am, I couldn't knowingly put a child through it. Sure, it's made me stronger, blah blah blah. But I also think it's cruel. A lot of people in my same situation didn't make it as far as I did. And there's no way to tell where my illness will take me in the future. The manias, the depressions... While I've gotten better at stopping them, it's a work in progress. And it will be, forever. How could I put that burden on a child? Especially when I found the statistics...
Children who have a family history of mental illness are 3 times less likely to be adopted.
So, I started to think, instead of having my own child, maybe in the future, I'd consider adoption? Take a child who is already alive, and give them the home they deserve, and the one I wish I had, not that my parents were awful, just that they didn't understand.
However, it is extremely hard to adopt a child when you've been diagnosed with a psychotic disorder. With good reason... as much as I'd want to provide an amazing home for one of those 3-times-less-likely-to-be-adopted children, I can't help but be hesitant myself. I've battled with this for years, and it's never going to be perfect. Even if I have years in between episodes, it still *could* happen. I have hurt near every. single. family. member. AND. friend. over the past 10-15 years. I have never once meant to. Would it be the same with this child? Would I snap in anger? Would I break down and cry over the smallest thing? I've fallen into depressions where I haven't left my bed for days. Who would take that child to school? Help them with their homework? Cook them dinner? I've had manic episodes where I jump into my car and drive all night. Or I stay up for days at a time. What kind of life is that for a child?
And more than that, what kind of life is that for anyone?
I've avoided relationships for years. The last one I was in, I felt like I DESTROYED him in ways. How do I knowingly do that again? How could anyone be that selfish?
I've destroyed friendships that meant everything to me. Some of them, I've been able to rebuild. But not all... To those I've hurt in the past and were never quite able to forgive my selfish, destructive ways, I do not blame you.
I understand, I really do. I don't know if the tables were turned if I could put up with myself. Some days, it honestly feels like the only ones who will truly love me for all that I am; manic, depressed, insane; is my mother and my dog.
But, life isn't easy for anyone. I'm glad I think about these things, and I'm glad I wrote about them to get them off my chest. But, it doesn't definitively create the future for me. That's the thing about living with bipolar... it can, and will, affect your life. But at the end of it all, it's still your life. I AM NOT bipolar. I HAVE bipolar. It does not have me.
