From a Child to an Adult: Changing Perspectives
When I was a young child, one of the most interesting figures in my life was my Uncle "Dave," a single man about 35 or so who was my father's youngest brother. Uncle Dave was the kind of adult that I associated with fun. When he came to visit - almost always unexpectedly and without any warning - it felt like a party was going on. He brought amazing presents, the kinds of toys and games that a child would want and most parents would be reluctant to give them. He would plan picnics, trips to the zoo, ringside seats at the circus, horseback rides, and all of the activities that simultaneously thrilled and exhausted children. In a word, Uncle Dave was "fun" whereas my parents and other adult relatives, though kind and loving, were far more "serious."
Uncle Dave was always happy when I saw him. There were times when he seemed to be more like a child or a teenager than an adult. I often saw my father shake his head and look concerned about something Uncle Dave did or said. I thought that my father was just a little resentful of the fact that whenever Uncle Dave came to our house, my brothers and sisters and I would leap up and hug him and compete for his attention. I thought my dad was jealous because we looked forward to Uncle Dave's visits.
What I did not know was that my uncle suffered from a condition called bipolar disorder, which is described as a psychological disorder in which an individual vacillates between an elated, hyperactive, manic mood and one of great depression, lethargy, and despair (Davison and Neale, 196). We only saw Uncle Dave when he was in a manic phase of this illness. We did not see him when he was depressed and my parents made sure that we did not as children know that when Uncle Dave was "away" for months at a time he was actually in an institution being treated for his illness. We did not understand that the frowns and looks of conc...