Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Reciprocal sadness

It started off as a matter of tidying up. Fifteen years' worth of pictures have piled up in drawers, on bookshelves, in boxes. Starting in 2000, the bright yellow envelopes also started holding digital versions of the prints and negatives--first floppy disks, and later CDs. I remembered cleaning up regular digital files when I bought a new camera and again after that when it was time for a new laptop.

It was really only about getting organized, nothing more.

Frank's computer churned and whirred its way through the floppy disks. I had to use his computer because mine doesn't have an "A" drive. Photo after photo rolled across the screen, revealing captured moments of a rich life, Frank and May discovering new pursuits and having fun doing it.

It was easiest to load everything onto the hard drive and then copy the folder onto a flash drive. After an hour of managing folders, I shut down the computer and got ready for bed. I let Frank know there was a new file on the desktop, but since I might be adding more files, I didn't want him to delete it yet.

When I got home from work, Frank got through the end-of-workday niceties and then he said, "I looked through those pictures today. It was intense. There's a lot of history there. Honestly, it made me want to cry."

This would fall soundly into the category of things Frank normally wouldn't say. Thinking he missed his friends from back East, I asked why the pictures made him sad. I was not prepared for his answer.

"Everything was different. You have a smile in every picture. Not anymore. It's not like that now. You can almost see exactly when the bipolar got you. It's really sad."

I told Frank that, yes, bipolar disorder had won. He said, "Well, I wouldn't say it has won, not yet." His eyes were just so sad, and he shifted them down to Sparkle who was happy to be petted, with or without an excuse.

I shook my head and said, "Frank, it's true. BP, its treatment, the related expense, the effects on my personality and demeanor, the weight gain, my sense of hope and fun and curiosity, the lost IQ points...I would say that BP has won because it took away everything I valued in myself."

I think that Frank, the eternal optimist, just had a reality check about something he was still hoping wasn't really true.

And that makes me sad.

To see the smile Frank was referencing, click on the picture

1 comment:

Ethereal Highway said...

I'm something of a self-appointed authority on smiles, and I say yours is a winner! May, if everything is already gone, then what have you got to lose by trying the therapy? Of course you don't want to. No one *wants* to. I'm here to tell you that YES, childhood pain CAN cause this. IT CAN AND IT DOES.