family

B posted an entry about his brother. I read it and it really touched me. It also reminded me of what I know is the essential goodness of B's heart. And I think that his brother is lucky to have him.

Then I think of my family, and how I can't discuss my struggles with them. My bipolar disorder seems to annoy them, maybe, or scare them, or make them feel powerless. I am not sure which, since we never talk about it. In a recent conversation, my brother remarked that I had sounded "down" for a while. I replied that I sounded that way because I was depressed. He asked why I was depressed, and I tried to explain that there was no simple reason, there was no cause that I could pinpoint, that it was just a regular thing for me (which I thought he already knew). At that point I had to end the conversation because he was cold and did not express any kind of understanding. All he had to say was "it's ok." That would have been enough.

I love my family very much. But I feel removed, for so many reasons. And I am sure they love me but they regard me as some oddity.