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There are a few causes of bipolar disorder that are in debate, and heredity is one of them. I used to think that I was the only "mental defective" in my family. In looking back on my family, and ahead with my children and grandchildren, I can see clearly how bipolar disorder probably is an inherited disorder for me.

Back in my grandmother's day, the farthest back that I can see this illness, the stigma of mental illness was too great for msot people to seek psychiatric help. Not to mention, back then there was very little help for the bipolar person. The subject was not even discussed. So, my grandmother just led a mean, miserable life and made many miserable with her. Now that I know more about bipolar disorder in myself, I am able to have more compassion toward my grandmother and her difficulties.

Next in line, my mother, has all the signs as well. The mental illness stigma carried on through her and she has never sought help, because she sees nothing wrong with her mood swings. Of course, when I came along as a child and teen with major mood swings they saw a problem, with ME. But, because of the social stigma, I was not taken in for psychiatric care.

I was finally diagnosed and treated for bipolar disorder as an adult. This was after three husbands that my mood swings drove out and outrageous behaviors that were beginning to cause me credit difficulties and job losses. Doctors and therapists finally explained to me what I was going through and my life made sense all of a sudden. Well, sense in a senseless world, anyway. Just having an explanation made me feel not quite as defective.

Of course, this diagnosis brought great relief to my wonderful family as well. In chorus, my mother and grandmother exclaimed, "I KNEW IT! There IS something wrong with you!" Mom never meant it in the evil way that I took it, but neither she nor my grandmother recognize all of the bipolar issues in themselves. My mother and I, who are best friends when not living together, got into a heated argument one day. She yelled, "You're just bipolar! You're sick right now!" For once I lashed back, "Well where do you think I got it from?" The look on her face was classic. The joke that I started this disorder on my own was no longer funny. She is still in denial, and I still try to survive on a daily basis with new coping skills. I sit back in amazement as I watch her moods swing out of control on occasion. Since I am no psychiatrist and cannot diagnose her, I can only think, "If she is bipolar, at least she is not in as bad of shape as I am."

My teenage daughter was diagnosed as bipolar as well. Another apple in my family who was considered a problem to all but me. She is in her twenties now with four children and sees no need for treatment, yet. She just complains that one of the children may have an emotional disorder and how he must have gotten it from me. That's alright. I just smile. There's no social stigma in my world and all of them are free to talk about mental health with me at any time. Future generations can at least begin acceptance with me.

Learn more about this author, Robin Shane.
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