The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. – Psalm 34:18
Do What the Game Asks: A Sober Journey Through Bipolar II
On November 1, 2023, my son and I stood before the TV, hearts racing as the Texas Rangers clinched their first World Series. Tears flowed as we shouted, “That’s for you, Mom/Nana!” Her memory flooded back-October 2011, her hospital room, watching the Rangers lose Game 6 to the Cardinals. Despite post-surgery pain, she quoted Ron Washington: “Do what the game of baseball asks you to do.” Her love for the Rangers carried us through her 2021 passing, my addiction, and Bipolar II’s cycles. Now, 18 months sober and hypomanic, I’ve written 12 columns in 36 hours-AI, immigration, Supreme Court rulings-a creative blaze. In April’s depressive fog, I penned A Sobriety Story and In the Shadow of the Mask, baring scars to inspire others. God’s nudge drives me: trust a physician, unmask your pain, find redemption.
My Bipolar II journey began in my late 30s, misdiagnosed as Major Depressive Disorder. Black moods drained color from the world; SSRIs dulled pain but muted my wit. In my 40s, hypomanic highs-racing thoughts, thousands of words written hourly-gave way to untriggered lows. A doctor’s diagnosis and medications restored vibrancy, framing my all-or-nothing nature as a manageable gift, fueling my chaotic yet creative process.
Addiction scarred me deeply. A Sobriety Story traces my alcohol struggle: binge drinking in my 40s, a four-year sober stretch, then relapse after my mother’s 2021 death. Grief fueled drinking, straining ties with my teens. A decade of opioid dependence, post-surgeries, darkened Bipolar II’s lows. When my pain management doctor retired, my physician switched me to NSAIDs, guiding me to sobriety. This clarity channels hypomania and softens lows, inspired by my mother’s strength.
Depressive phases are brutal. In April and May, I wrote A Sobriety Story, A Father’s Fears, In the Shadow of the Mask, A Father’s Day Story, and A Saturday Evening Story. These columns unmasked grief over my mother’s death, which fueled drinking. In 2011, beside her hospital bed, we watched the Rangers lose Games 6 and 7. Her steady voice echoed Ron Washington’s wisdom-adapt, endure. Jazz, like Bill Evans’ “My Foolish Heart” from A Saturday Evening Story, became my refuge, its soulful notes easing reflection. My cluttered desk, like Sherlock Holmes’ study, mirrors my chaotic creativity, sharpened by sobriety.
As an ambivert father, I spin tales for my teens, as in A Father’s Day Story, but crave solitude when overstimulated. A Father’s Fears confesses addiction’s toll, but sobriety rebuilt trust, inspired by my mother’s lessons. Jazz’s improvisational heart shapes my storytelling, mirroring hypomania’s spontaneity. The 2023 clinch was our father-son triumph.
Bipolar II is my long road, its scars-addiction, loss, pain-woven into a divine plan. Sobriety, raw columns, and the 2023 clinch prove redemption’s possible. To those facing dark moods or addiction: trust a physician, seek treatment-therapy, meds, support-and unmask your scars. From SSRIs to sober clarity, from hospital-room losses to a World Series shout, faith and resilience lead to victory. God’s nudge and my mother’s voice urge you to act.
Ron Washington, Angels manager, is on leave through 2025 for health reasons. Get well soon, Wash.
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the Holy Spirit. – Romans 15:13
