I don't think that I have ever described in full detail what life is like being the mother of a bipolar child. I'm not even sure I know how to describe it to be quite honest with you. I can tell you that it is gut-wrenchingly hard, it breaks my heart and it destroys my soul during the bad times. During the good times there is no love better than the love of your child. I wish I knew the secret. I wish I knew the answer. I wish I had the cure. I wish that the fog that has been hovering for so long could be lifted. I wish I had the sweet, loving little boy of years past back in my fold. I wish I could hold him in my arms and instead of promising that everything will be alright, that I could make it alright. But I can't. And I never will have that power. I just have to try and make it to the end of the latest fog and pray that it does clear. I just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other. I just have to hold my head high. I just have to continue to pray to the higher being. I just have to keep believing that HE will answer my prayers. And on days like today, it's okay if I lose my ability to do all of these things and lay in my bed in the fetal position and cry my heart out and grieve for that little boy that I miss so much. And hope and pray, that this too shall pass. Even though the feeling to scream and get mad at HIM for placing this burden on me and my son is overwhelming. This too shall pass... Please God let it pass.