Twelve years
Bipolar discard is a hell of a thing. For you, the jarring rattle of an entire life gone in the blink of an eye is devastating. The cruelty, false accusations, total emotional detachment followed by emotional radio silence and rapid replacement is brutal to take from the person you loved, but even heavier on your heart is seeing what it does to your displaced child you love even more.
The beautiful world you devoted so many years building for them through all the manic episodes, that you did everything you could to keep from being torn down in front of your child’s eye without a pause from your bipolar partner pierces your heart so much worse. That’s truly how hearts are broken. You really can only have kids or secrets.
When you accept the realization you can’t keep up that wall for them, that they’ve grown too old to not see you tucking it into the dark corners away from their eyes anymore no matter how many times you clean up after it, see in real time your child’s heart next to you living through the discard themselves not understanding why the other parent won’t call, doesn’t text an I love you, takes two days to get them the their meds he’s begging for, seeing them afraid and not wanting to even go back to the home changes everything.
You have to try to accept you have no choice but go in a direction that’s safe to build this time instead of back towards the sand you tried so dearly to protect their life on. Away from the abuse and cold so they can always and forever have that safe loving place you wanted for them. That’s what gives you the strength to finally move on no matter how much it still hurts.