Oxytocin produces the feeling of love and happiness.
Since I started my own ritual of putting Lyric to bed every night, I have felt a lot more peace than normal. I can't discern whether our steadfast behaviors have a more potent effect on her or on me. Whatever the case, I'm glad it's a part of us now as we forge a closer relationship.
"My wife and I, bipolar but the same, each one struggles in our own ways. The medicine becomes our optimism for the next days. This point I raise, only contains a dull haze then sun rays, pay for a better day, now I'm onto the next phrase."
So yeah, for real, two bipolar people have found each other in the haystack. I'm truly thankful for Hilary's diagnoses. It's hard to watch someone struggle with something so manageable with help, mostly just the kind I could never give her. As her optimism returns, so does mine. Our lips touch more, the embraces linger on, we laugh. I remember these people and I fucking loved them. Our pheromones pour out and the world seems smaller, less hurtful and cruel and the same is felt with my daughter. I can't always remember happy, especially as a man living with bipolar, but I'm sure I've got the feeling right. What a crazy world, my pretty little girls.
