When I married my husband, I knew he was birth onset bipolar and that he kept himself a bit on the depressed side because he was terrified of mania. I was okay with that. Things were managable when we were in California, but then I accepted a job in NC, moved here at the start of last year and he and our daughter followed 6 months later. He didn't do so well without me. The disaster I went home to was indescribable, although I'll try. It was the end of June and the Christmas decorations were still up. He hadn't done any packing and we were moving in a week. Cleaning/packing our 9 year olds room, I found over 40 dishes. I started packing, but couldn't finish in time, so we hired people to finish and load the truck. They didn't, the house and van were ransacked and half of what was left didn't make it on the truck. I had to keep everything inside, although I wanted to shout, "If you had freaking packed, then this wouldn't have happened." But I smiled and let it go. So, I'm working at least 50 hours a week and he's home with our daughter. But I do all the housework, laundry and taking her where she needs to go. Today, we received a notice that we had to finish our insurance claim today or they were dropping it. He has had 9 months. But I just smiled and asked if he needed help. We've been together for almost 15 years and in so many ways, he's amazing. Does all the shopping and cooking (when he isn't too depressed to get off the couch) and adores me. But I'm tired of it all. There is no one I can talk to about this - no one understands. I'm tired of a good day being, "well, at least he didn't kill himself today." Thanks for listening - I needed to talk to someone, even if it's only typing the words and not knowing if anyone will ever read them.View Thread