A Friend's Struggle

What if at age 57 you finally found out you were bipolar? You would finally have the answer to how you had fucked up your life in so many ways. I spent the day in West Virginia visiting someone who once worked for me. Let’s just call him J.

J was smart. We knew that from the minute he descended upon our office. But at times he could be as annoying as hell. He simply didn’t know when to shut up and invariably ended up with his foot in his mouth. He loved to eat, always struggling with a weight problem. He loved to talk about food.

I had some reservations as I promoted him up the career ladder. But his work was solid and he picked up the Spanish that we needed for our work in Latin America so easily. He and I always got along well and he spared me of his sometimes cruel sense of humor.

In his single days, he was heavily into jazz and photography, sometimes even convincing a girl named Benise to pose with all sorts of vegetables as he made harmless porn pictures.

When J announced he was getting married, we were all excited for him. Several of us even made the trip to Connecticut for the wedding. Then a daughter eventually came along. But there were some strange things going on. His wife kept a lock on the refrigerator, I kid you not.

That marriage finally ended in a bitter divorce. His daughter at age 15 told him she never wanted to see him again. And J continued to eat and gain weight.

He met B soon thereafter, who helped him through some awful years. But they too just couldn’t make a go of their relationship. They both currently still live (apart) in a small town in West Virginia.

Meanwhile J retired suddenly, mostly because he was perhaps going to be fired for sexual harassment of a colleague.

This guy sounds like a mess, right?

He has finally made some sense out of his life after being diagnosed as bipolar and understanding that he has an obsessive eating disorder.

But the good news is he has turned his life around. He has lost about 130 pounds, now looking like a very sveldt guy of 5'10". My friend and I brought lunch today, providing only those things on J’s diet. We enjoyed fish soup, a tossed salad, and mixed fruit for dessert.

J understands that he must be on certain meds to stabilize his system – to prevent the lows and highs from being so far apart. He understands that if he resorts to his previous way of eating, he will not have anything to wear and he will gain back all those ugly pounds.

I’m terribly sympathetic with people who suffer from bipolar disorder. It can rob them of relationships, family, jobs, and the chance to lead a normal life. I am so grateful that J has figured this out and has reclaimed his life.