PART SEVEN-
Abby- No, this can't be right, surely. Jess is a healthy, happy girl, there's nothing wrong with her. In all her life she's only been to a hospital when she was born, and when she's had to come to work for some reason. She's not one of those sickly children who are always off school with some mysterious ailment, or an accident-prone child with thousands of injuries to tell the story behind. But Bipolar Disorder isn't anything to do with being accident prone, or sickly. It's hereditary. This is my fault. I knew this could happen, I knew the risks behind having children, but I chose to do it anyway. Why?! I've wrecked my daughter's life, just by bringing her into this world. She's ten years old, it's not fair for something like Bipolar Disorder to be inflicted upon a child. Why didn't that stop me from having children? Because I'm an inconsiderate little bitch who only cared about fulfilling her childhood fantasies? That's what I feel like.
How could I not spot it? I saw all the signs in Harry, even though the psychiatrist assures us that he's not bipolar. Why didn't I realise the same things were happening with Jess? It took some ex-boyfriend to tell me that he thought there was something wrong with my daughter. Someone who sees her maybe once a month, at most. What does Luka know, anyway? He hasn't had to grow up with a bipolar mother, and had to cope with both manic episodes and long periods of depression. He doesn't know what it does to a person to be trying to help someone you love, but to have all that help pushed away ungratefully.
Oh Jessie, my baby, please take the meds. You have no idea what it was like to know that my mother could be helped, but refused to take that help. Just don't make me go through that again.
Here I am, talking like this is something certain, like Jess is definitely bipolar I wish I could will her not to be. But somehow I can't help thinking that this is it, hat I've always dreaded is happening for real. John keeps telling me not to worry, of course. He does what he's always done: he kisses me, then looks me in the eye and tells me 'we're going to be okay.' But I can see the doubt in his eyes when he says it now, a doubt that's never been there before. Not even that first time, when we were at risk from smallpox. This is scarier. I know he's so worried about his little girl. He's always been so protective of Jess. Of all of us, actually. And now he's trying to protect me from the fear that I know he too feels.
He knows that I know that he feels that fear. Both of us could always read the other like an open book. Perhaps that's why we're so close, but also why if we fight it's a million times worse than it would normally be.
I wonder if Jess is afraid. Does she even know what's going on? At ten I guess she must. But I don't want my baby to be scared, I want this to be over so that we can forget about it. Banish it from our minds, forget it ever happened, and carry on with our lives. I know that's not going to happen though; I know in my heart that my daughter's bipolar. And yes, that scares me so much.
*** (I know the change from third to first person goes against everything my English teacher ever taught me, but I wanted it this way. I hope it works! I'll post the next part tomorrow, it's already written. Thanks as always for the feedback! xxJoxx)
Abby- No, this can't be right, surely. Jess is a healthy, happy girl, there's nothing wrong with her. In all her life she's only been to a hospital when she was born, and when she's had to come to work for some reason. She's not one of those sickly children who are always off school with some mysterious ailment, or an accident-prone child with thousands of injuries to tell the story behind. But Bipolar Disorder isn't anything to do with being accident prone, or sickly. It's hereditary. This is my fault. I knew this could happen, I knew the risks behind having children, but I chose to do it anyway. Why?! I've wrecked my daughter's life, just by bringing her into this world. She's ten years old, it's not fair for something like Bipolar Disorder to be inflicted upon a child. Why didn't that stop me from having children? Because I'm an inconsiderate little bitch who only cared about fulfilling her childhood fantasies? That's what I feel like.
How could I not spot it? I saw all the signs in Harry, even though the psychiatrist assures us that he's not bipolar. Why didn't I realise the same things were happening with Jess? It took some ex-boyfriend to tell me that he thought there was something wrong with my daughter. Someone who sees her maybe once a month, at most. What does Luka know, anyway? He hasn't had to grow up with a bipolar mother, and had to cope with both manic episodes and long periods of depression. He doesn't know what it does to a person to be trying to help someone you love, but to have all that help pushed away ungratefully.
Oh Jessie, my baby, please take the meds. You have no idea what it was like to know that my mother could be helped, but refused to take that help. Just don't make me go through that again.
Here I am, talking like this is something certain, like Jess is definitely bipolar I wish I could will her not to be. But somehow I can't help thinking that this is it, hat I've always dreaded is happening for real. John keeps telling me not to worry, of course. He does what he's always done: he kisses me, then looks me in the eye and tells me 'we're going to be okay.' But I can see the doubt in his eyes when he says it now, a doubt that's never been there before. Not even that first time, when we were at risk from smallpox. This is scarier. I know he's so worried about his little girl. He's always been so protective of Jess. Of all of us, actually. And now he's trying to protect me from the fear that I know he too feels.
He knows that I know that he feels that fear. Both of us could always read the other like an open book. Perhaps that's why we're so close, but also why if we fight it's a million times worse than it would normally be.
I wonder if Jess is afraid. Does she even know what's going on? At ten I guess she must. But I don't want my baby to be scared, I want this to be over so that we can forget about it. Banish it from our minds, forget it ever happened, and carry on with our lives. I know that's not going to happen though; I know in my heart that my daughter's bipolar. And yes, that scares me so much.
*** (I know the change from third to first person goes against everything my English teacher ever taught me, but I wanted it this way. I hope it works! I'll post the next part tomorrow, it's already written. Thanks as always for the feedback! xxJoxx)