So what we are left with is troubled men who don’t only feel like NO ONE understands, but that NO ONE truly cares, and NO ONE wants to listen.So, men’s coping mechanism has been (and continues to be) suffering in silence.That's the part we've been dealing with for the last week, and he's reached out to my mom for some support and advice, which is a very, very good idea--she's one of the only people who knows how to explain how I am when I'm depressive.It's a bummer not to be able to reached when I need it most, but more of a bummer to be temporarily incapable of telling the person whom you love that he has nothing to do with what you're going through, but that there's also nothing he can say or do to help.
You like him, you like his friends, you like his moves in the bedroom. Then he sits you down and tells you that he has bipolar disorder.It’s sad, it’s confusing and it can be very overwhelming.And unless you know someone who’s been in your situation, it can also be very lonely.Over the last couple of years, I've learned to deal with them in manageable ways, but you can imagine how, well, That being said, I've been really lucky with how the men in my life have supported me. Isaac and I have been together for a couple of months, and though things got very intense very quickly, we still acknowledge we have a lot to learn about each other.My anxiety issues got really bad went I went through a bout of anorexia about a year ago when I was with C, and he was incredibly good to me when I used to take two hours to get dressed in the morning and freak-the-eff-out in my underwear about my closet, then my body, then my life, then our relationship, then, like, the end of the world, because that's obviously the natural, logical segue. One thing he had to see was me at my most anxious: a state I'm not proud of, and a state that's not fun.Note to self: Smile and laugh ironically for dramatic effect in weekly Smitten column.