Do You Disown A Bipolar Friend?

I met Mark, almost two years ago through mutual friends and social media. We hit it off instantly. Summers spent in the park, winters spent eating frozen custard at the specialty shoppe, talking about everything under the sun with someone who could carry a conversation. I mean, if he could sit and talk about existential crises, the delectability of a nice cup of chai with suji halwa, while understanding what the word eschatology meant, things were great. He even helped me pick up my two rescue kittens since he had a car and I do not.

That first summer in the park, sitting on the grass, he disclosed that he is bipolar to quite an extent. He recounted episodes and hospitalizations underwent because of his condition. My assessment of him did not change in the slightest. I was honored that he felt comfortable enough to disclose this part of himself to me. Although neurodivergence might now be a term in its heyday, we all are so to some extent.

As for the two cats that he helped me bring home, one day we tried their placing new collars around their necks. Naturally, the kittens were fidgeting and made their disdain very clear. Mark stopped trying. He got up and left my apartment without a word. A few weeks later, I received the following text after reaching out to him to see if he was, and we were, ok.

Mark: “I remember you. Yeah, that whole situation put me off from keeping you as an influence in my life. I hope you are well but I’ve moved on from this friendship. Thank you for apologizing and I hope the cats are ok. Don’t reach out again, thanks!”

I respected his request. Less than a month later, I received the following text:

Mark: “I owe you a deep and unequivocal apology. I told myself a narrative where you were a “bad” person to justify ignoring you and dropping you. It was already cruel of me to ditch you (with no closure) and then to stiff arm you in the name of “boundaries” to deal with my own guilt. That was so shitty of me. I don’t expect anything of you, I’m just taking responsibility the best I can. I hope you are ok, and I’m sorry for adding pain. You are not a bad person, you are not a bad cat owner, and you do deserve supportive healthy friendships. I was extremely selfish.”

I: “Yes, it was wrong of you to ditch me out of the blue with no explanation. And yes, you used the chic term of “boundaries” to escape compassion. It was extremely (and is) hurtful to me. The cats are doing fine. What we tried doing that one day, PetCo did in minutes. We were just trying. You took that as me being cruel. I was like the parent of a newborn who does not know how to deal with a teething baby. I had just wanted help from a a friend. (Obviously, neither of us knew what we were doing!) *But the fact that you can admit to all of this proves that you are so much better of a man than you are painting yourself out to be.* 😽

Mark: “Thank you this is a much more gracious response than I could have expected. I’m very touched. FWIW, my reaction that day was a projection about my own guilt for not being a good cat dad myself. What you did wasn’t abhorrent I just took the excuse to point a finger. I’m realizing that I craft narratives about people to deflect blame, distract myself from the mirror”

I: “Mark, at some level, we all do. I have learned (still am!) to restrain that very human tendency. It’s easier to point the finger at someone else than at one’s own self. And unfortunately, it is equally easier to point the finger at yourself, when in fact, that is when it should be pointed towards something/someone else. And, let’s face it, dude. The world is going to shit. Everyone is trying to deal with issues over which they either have no control, or were never taught to handle in a better way. I’ll be the first to say, ‘Guilty as charged,’ about myself.”

Mark: “This might sound crazy, but I see God in you and I was running from that.”

I: “And I saw an inner beauty in you, which is why I probably ran towards you.”

We reconnected as though nothing ever happened. We hung out like we had before, went to a concert, went to an ugly sweater party among the rest. He even asked me to bless the new apartment he moved into recently.

✦

But the thing with bipolar disorder is that another can never be sure when the one with it is slipping between the two poles.

✦

Since he had just moved into his new place (not to mention on the verge of losing his job), I baked him brownies, a loaf of banana bread, and brought over a pot of homemade chili, so that he would have something on hand. I mentioned that the chili goes really well over a bed of penne pasta. He admitted that he did not have any cookware; making tea for both of us explaining how he did not have any milk or sugar on hand.

The next day, I dropped off a pot, a wooden spoon, two bags of organic Italian penne pasta, milk, and sugar. I left the supplies at his door (he mentioned in passing the code to enter the apartment complex). I texted him on the way out to check his front door.

A friend donated a full-sized mattress for Mark’s new place for which he did not have sheets. Mark had mentioned that he would be holding a housewarming party the coming or following weekend. I got him a comforter and sheet set to go for his mattress. Given his job situation, the housewarming party was on hold. And he was slipping and couldn’t find the energy to get his apartment in order for such a gathering. He even texted, “And the thing I’m running from is the uncertainty of how I’ll provide for me and my cat, and buckling down on organizing and cleaning my living space.”

He could use the sheet set immediately rather than waiting to present it on a party that was indefinitely put off. I dropped off the comforter and sheet set at his door. Again, I left it by his door letting him know it was there once I left.

✦

While in high school, my mother told me:

Your friends are only you friends because you are beautiful, rich, and the only one with a car.

✦

These are not the words a closeted gay teen should hear when trying to find his place in the world. Those words have stuck with me for my whole life. But just recently, a new friend echoed that sentiment in a different way. “You’re doing too much and maybe he just does not appreciate it.”

But my whole life, I have been made feel less than for what counted and exoticied for what did not. Too many times, I have been dismissed, disowned for slight mistakes I made (for which I apologized) and for major ones for which I could only ask for forgiveness. In our current climate of cancel culture, I would be damned if I made others feel that way, especially when they are going through difficult moments.

We were supposed to meet up just this past weekend, date and time set. Mark stood me up. He apologized for it. And I accepted the apology only to receive a text from Mark saying, “Hey been a little overwhelmed and not sure how to respond. Perhaps we should part ways, it seems like we aren’t on the same page.”

Am I really someone wants to know more than superficially? Or do I stick to my value of not dismissing someone who is going through a difficult time and is bipolar? (And to be clear, there was no romance or any expectation thereof going on.)

And so that leads me to the letter written but never sent:

Dear Mark,

We need to begin with the fact, which I have stated several time before, that this is my fault. I apologize for that.

You ditched me the first time around. Then apologized for acting as you had due to things happening that influenced your actions. Though your words and actions were hurtful and uncouth, I accepted your apology, because we have all been in difficult circumstances in our lives, myself included, where a friend would be willing to give not just a second chance, but multiple chances — knowing that his friend is going through stuff that requires another to be a friend not a judge.

You mentioned, “What I mean is that you seem upset when I prioritize other friendships and I can’t be there for ours all the time.”

Please reread what you wrote. You “prioritize” others. This clearly mean that I am not just one of your friends, I’m a lesser one.

This comment would make more sense if you could tell me when you showed up for me, when you knew I was going through a difficult time that you knew about. You did not. I have no problem with you maintaining friendships with people other than me. That’s totally natural.

But you have not maintained one with me. You were able to make it half way around town to be there for Valentino because he was going through a difficult time. You would have had to do 1/8 of that for me. A phone call? A seven-minute walk?

In the past, multiple times you promised to make plans to have a get-together with Tom and a select others, so that I could meet your friends. That never happened.

You said you would make plans last week. That never happened.

You emphatically agreed to taking part in the Freeform app so that we could stay connected even when we were busy with other stuff. That never happened.

I suggested that we sit together and work on job work and applications together, with no need to talk unless we could use one another’s suggestions. You emphatically agreed to that, too. I waited for the green light. That never happened.

Here I am with brownies, banana bread, pots, sheet sets, etc., all because I consider you a good friend and know I can help out in that way. You never asked for any of my offerings. I gave them willingly.

Correct me if I’m wrong, but did I too much for someone who really is not that invested in the friendship? And that is why I said, it is not your fault. It is mine.

If I knew that you were in a state of hurt, an open-mic I planned to attend, being excited to see the next episode of the series that I’m following be damned. I’d be pounding on your door. But, like I said, that’s I. If we are to stay friends (your choice), perhaps I just need to step back and understand where I stand and am not “prioritized.”

You wrote: “Just want to improve on my service to others, and as you mentioned, you are in a season of need so I want to be the best friend I can be ❤️.” [Monday, January 19, 2026].

And: “I hate to think that you don’t feel supported by me as a friend but it’s clear I need to apply myself more.” [Saturday, January 17, 2026].

This shows that you are well aware that a phone call or a walk in the neighborhood would help out a friend who could use presence. But everything else takes priority. And that is cool, if that is how you feel. But then the pots and spoons and banana bread, the blessings, the bedsheet set among others, which I did, I did because you are a priority.

And that is why I say that all that was my fault. I was working off the assumption that you thought of me as a good friend, someone who might deserve “priority.”

It’s hard to accept that despite how much I invested into our friendship, you ignored it all while knowing I was hurt. I also know, however, that you are going through some heavy issues yourself. I would understand if that turned you into a hermit and unwilling to engage. But, you do engage with so many others, just not me.

✦

Is the point to choose acceptance and let things go? Or do I stand firm in my acceptance of others’ non-acceptance because they, too, are going through hardship? I’m leaning towards the latter, but it’s hard.