How I Coped with a Bipolar Mom Who Refused Treatment for 40 Years

Most of the time, you can’t tell. Most of the time, she smiles politely and moves about the day with a feigned stoicism.

Only an eye, trained through years of ruined birthday parties, eccentric shopping sprees, and new business ventures can see it, ready to surface without warning.

Sometimes it surfaces when I forget to stay calm and understanding. Reactionary frustration adds a sharp edge to my voice. Her face shifts. Her mouth, like mine, which naturally turns down at the corners, seems to droop even further.

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