CHAPTER
20
Jace’s story
Now I would like to start off by saying I am not doing this to put anyone down or make anyone feel not appreciated, but this is to inform others of my perspective on how bipolar has impacted me. When my dad would go manic from the earliest memory I have, when he would yell at me and he didn't feel like himself. I took it out on me. It felt like I did something to cause his anger, and that it was my fault that he wasn't doing right. At the time, I didn't know this. I just took it out on myself, and later I found out that it's not my fault that he was going manic. It's like his brain didn't work. I believe when I was seven, my mom gave me this kind of picture book that helped me visualize that it wasn't him in there. More like it was another person in there. My dad has even told us it's like someone else is in the driver's seat, controlling, but you're in the backseat watching. And during the time when he had these episodes, it made me feel hurt. It made me feel like, gee, I can't even describe it. It made me feel like I was in a depression of my own and that whatever I did was something that caused him. It's like this feeling where you feel guilty and you feel regret, and it's like a wave of emotions. It keeps you up at night, and you replay every memory, trying to see if you did something wrong to cause his mania. In those memories, they just kind of haunt you forever. It's like your brain won't let you forget that they did that or they did this, and it made you feel a kind of way you never want to ever feel. It's like you're having a bad day, but those memories, they make you feel hurt, never knowing if you'll mentally be okay.My mom used to tell me that it wasn't my fault and I didn't cause it, but To me, every time it felt like he went into mania, it felt like I did something. I did something that caused it. It may not have been anything, but it feels like I did do something and I didn't know it. And just her telling me that it wasn't my fault didn't really help me At that age, I didn't really know what to believe, because on one side my mom was telling me this and on the other side I was seeing this. It's kind of that state where, when something bad happens to you, you kind of replay what happened. You replay everything that happened, and you try to find that inconsistency, like, "Oh, maybe I did this, or maybe I did that” And during the state that he's been in, I've said a few things I regret. What didn't make sense to me is that one time he was in that state, and another time it was like he was back. It is like a roller coaster. You never know what's going to be this. You never know what's going to be that. It sucks. And trying to talk to people for me, therapists never really worked. It was like talking to a stranger who doesn't understand a single thing, which sucked. It's like they don't care that this is happening to you. They act sympathetic, but it's really not. To me, it feels like I'm telling people stuff that doesn't matter and that it may be helpful for some people, but for me, therapy, talking about it, telling a stranger about it, never really caught on for me. It's like being in the middle of two situations of wanting to help, but talking to a stranger doesn't really feel like it's helping you. It's more like you're airing dirty laundry. For me, I always wanted to talk to my mom about it. For me, venting felt better than talking to someone who doesn't understand, whereas my mom did. She understood everything that was happening. But eventually, the good stuff starts coming. You start making new memories and good memories of things that happened to you, that you did with that person with bipolar. For me, being able to play a card game called Magic or go snowboarding with my dad, those memories are slowly overtaking some of my dad's mania episodes and things that I remember. Man, I can't even remember stuff that happened to me ten years below. I can remember a few things, but I can't remember them like I used to. All in all, later as you go on, the memories start getting replaced based on how bad it is. Some of them never get replaced. Some of them do get replaced. Trauma impacts people differently, but for me, I've learned that you can't let the past control how you are today. You're going to have some of those bad memories, like everyone will. You just got to remember you can't let that bother you. You can't let that define how you live your life. I've learned that it's more of a choice. Are you gonna let those bad memories take over? Yes, sometimes. It's gonna happen. You're gonna have a nightmare about it sometimes. You're just gonna remember that, and you're not gonna know why, but you can't let that define you. But the hardest part for me now is seeing my dad cry over what he did to us and how he couldn't control it, and that probably hurts me the most. Watching someone fall apart because of their actions in the past that they couldn't control, it really breaks something in you that you can't define. And I understand that they can't let go of it, but something about just seeing the side of that, hearing it both really really hurt, watching someone you love be hurt by stuff in the past is a feeling that is hard to explain. Especially when my dad went through these random outbursts where it's like, "I'm sorry for what I did to you," but for me it's like I don't know where this is coming from. I don't know why they feel this way, in that moment and it's like I want to understand but can't figure out how to. And being young, it's like it's being amplified, cuz you respect your parents, but it's like being yelled at, but different. It's like being constantly yelled at or constantly being in trouble, or just feeling like they are in a bad mood all the time. Well thats all ive got hope this helps anyone who would like to know from a kids perspective.
