We are friends—the kind who share moments over manicures, enjoy outings as families, and have created lasting memories at places like trampoline parks and the water park during a long weekend. Despite the chaos that comes with parenting, we find joy in each other’s company, even when our kids exhibit their typical antics.
You see my son’s playful nature and my daughter’s bright personality, yet you may also notice the peculiar boundaries we’ve set. We often explain that our daughter isn’t feeling up for certain activities or that she needs to be tucked in early. She might even opt out of the Labor Day carnival, citing it as “too loud” for her comfort.
At just nine years old, it’s a struggle for her to miss out on plans with friends or to adhere to an early bedtime. I can only imagine what you think of our parenting style—perhaps deeming us strict or overly cautious. The truth is, I never envisioned being the type of parent who feels the need to hover, but I also never anticipated raising a child with bipolar disorder.
I had imagined carefree moments filled with laughter, sleepovers, and bike rides with friends. Instead, our reality is anything but carefree. We often leave movies prematurely when my daughter feels overwhelmed, or we avoid family vacations with friends out of fear that our structured routines would be too much for others to handle. Playdates are rare since she struggles to interpret social cues, leading her to react defensively before friendships can blossom.
Sleepovers are out of the question, as she worries about revealing her medication routine or the elaborate calming rituals she must follow to get to sleep. It’s a constant balancing act, and while our pantry is stocked, the figurative eggshells underfoot serve as a reminder of the care we must take around her.
When we gather at PTA events or share coffee, I often find myself distracted by thoughts of my daughter’s emotional turmoil. I worry about the phone ringing during school hours, fearing it might be the school calling to inform me that she’s had a meltdown or worse. Although we share the typical parenting frustrations, my focus is often on her struggles.
As friends, I long to share the weight of our experiences with you—the challenges we face and the reasons behind our seemingly strict guidelines. I want you to understand why I often have to say no, but the fear of your reaction holds me back. What if you see the word “bipolar” and distance yourself? I worry that my daughter will be judged or that our friendship will falter once you know the truth.
This isolation is crushing. I feel as if our friendship is built on half-truths, akin to the perfect vacation pictures I post online, hiding the reality of our struggles. Each moment of anxiety, each episode of panic, remains unspoken. I want to tell you how my daughter is a lonely girl, not defined by her disorder, but by her immense creativity, intelligence, and empathy. She deserves connection and acceptance.
Yet, I, too, feel lonely. I can’t share my true self amongst friends, and while I’ve tried to hint at our struggles, it’s difficult to gauge your response. I fear losing you, your friendship, and the opportunities for our daughters to play together. I envision my little girl sitting alone on the bus, watching her peers enjoy carefree moments while she feels the weight of isolation.
I don’t know what it’s like to be nine years old and bipolar, but I do understand the pain of not being seen for who I truly am. Will I ever summon the courage to reveal our reality?
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Summary:
This article reflects a mother’s struggle to communicate the challenges of raising a daughter with bipolar disorder. Despite the desire to share her experiences with friends, fear of judgment and stigma creates a barrier. The mother navigates feelings of isolation while seeking connection and understanding for both herself and her daughter.