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Manic Phase

I read this Slate essay as a mother-daughter relationship story - really pulling out all the fluff and the extras until only the breath of life remains. It reminded me of my former co-worker D whose daughter did a fair share of drugs but not to the point where an intervention was required - atleast not at the time I knew of her. D was mostly on edge except in those fleeting days and weeks between crises when her daughter sounded happy and normal, making a serious effort to stay away from drugs. 

That was when D shone - she could dive into work, immerse herself in it completely and produce the most remarkable results in a very short period of time. The manic phase as she referred to it, kept her employable and earned her the reputation of someone who got hard things done. There was this glorious period of two or three years when the daughter had been completely sober and was really making strides in her own life. D relaxed in sync and did some of the best work of her career during that time. 

One of her projects got national recognition and won her an award. And then just like that, D checked out of the workforce and in time from my life as well. Last I spoke to her several years ago, she mentioned that there are only so many manic phases left in a person's life at her age and they took their toll on her. D had not spoken to her daughter for over a year at the time but I have no doubt she would be there for her anytime the need arose - that was an immutable fact of her life.

Blanchard was circumspect about her relationship with her daughter. “Is she living the life I’d have her live? That’s an absolute no. Am I living the life my mama would have me live? F no,” she said. “I tell people all the time, ‘You feel like you’ve been buried. You’re under the dirt. I get that. But were you buried or planted? I was buried for a while here in this. I chose to see if I could grow. And I did.’ ”

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