Most stories start at the beginning. I am going to start this one in the middle.
My oldest son turns nine in a few days. He has a working diagnosis of bipolar disorder. The few people we’ve told have been shocked and wondered how we were dealing with such a shocking diagnosis. Well, I think they’ve forgotten that we live with him and such a diagnosis just doesn’t pop up; we’ve been dealing with it for eight years now. Only now do we have a name and some possible options to help him.
Currently he is taking Depakote and appears to be more stable.
That is the middle of my story. The end is unknown and the beginning will take a long time to tell.