Bipolar Support Group

I've been wanting to go to group therapy because I find the bipolar memoirs I read so helpful, I figured being in a room with other people might be also be comforting - to know I'm not alone.

The group meets every other week and is very informal. The organizer (a guy with two giant tattoos on his face) talked to all of the people who were new (there were a lot of us) & assured us that it was nothing like group therapy. There is not facilitator, people just talk. Conversation casually splits up, one on one or into in a small group.

S came with me, which turned out to be a really good idea; he got a lot out of it too. We wound up talking in a group consistently with two women - K & F - while others jumped in and out of the conversation. One running theme throughout the entire time was talking about what prescription cocktail someone takes. It was actually part of the way people introduced themselves. That alone was so abnormal to me, but then wow, it was such a relief to be able to be open about it to someone other than whoever my current boyfriend is at the time.

K

K is in her mid-40s & has been bipolar for 22 years. One of the first things she said was that there was a 12-year period where she was stable, "I thought I was 'cured,'" she told us. Now she lives with a friend, has given away all her belongings three times. You know how people romanticize about that? Well, I asked her if she liked it and she vigorously shook her head no. In the past two years she has been unstable, lost her job, has not had a home and currently lives with a friend. K has wide, kind eyes, that glistened with unshed tears. She was my favorite person in the group. She just seemed truly empathetic. She admitted that she too had ruined lives (after I divulged about sleeping with my ex's best friend while terribly manic after Hurricane Katrina). She didn't seem like she was giving.

S said he noticed me shrinking into my chair and said he hadn't seen me that upset since I got a prank call from the new girlfriend of my ex, R. That happened in September and I literally fell to the floor because the call came from R's number and I thought he allowed it to happen. (As it turns out, you can now mask a number with someone else's and he was at work with his phone in his pocket.) S assumed that I was upset by K's struggle for stability over a twenty year period.

Funny thing is that I wasn't. I was actually comforted to know that I am working getting stable and have been for a couple years. I was diagnosed as bipolar almost 10 years ago and while it's been an awful ordeal, it hasn't ruined my adult life. I firmly believe that by the time (when I'm 40 something), I'll have figured it out. I'll be able to keep a job and have a family. I wont be 'cured', I'll probably still have to take medicine... but I'll figure it out somehow.

At the group. I broke down a couple of times while talking about my feelings of shame about my past, parents not believing my diagnosis, or frustrations with psychiatrists. But it was a good break down. I certainly didn't feel judged. S was there holding my hand, rubbing my back, and squeezing my thigh. I'm very glad I brought him and even more glad he was willing to come. Everyone around the table knew exactly how I felt because they had been there. 

And that too was comforting.