I am 65 years old.  I have dealt with this disease since I was 17 when it first appeared. I spent my first manic episode in the hell hole of a state hospital, 45 years ago it was an asylum, as my parents put me in and thought I was on drugs.  They were well off enough to get me in a good hospital.  I was finally diagnosed at the age of 26.  Once I knew what it was, I educated myself on every aspect of the disease.  I'm so tired.  I really feel like no one cares.  Unless one has it, no one understands, even doctors.  A few weeks ago, I demanded to have my medicines changed from a doctor who is too old to practice and had me one too much medication and I could not get up from a chair for a couple years.  I demanded a new doctor.  He put me on Celexa and Wellbrutin.  I felt better than I have for years.  Tonight I crashed.  Along with dealing with my own demons, my only child is a drug addict.  I loved her so much, now her mind is so messed up.  She has hurt me so much.  She is clean now but in the past, she beat me up, I had to take her baby, she lost everything.  I have been trying to pull her out of hell for 5 years now.  I was finally finding some happiness when my world once again crashed with her horrible treatment of me.  I just want to die.  My husband (not her father) has always been very supportive of me in anything.  Last week, he withdraws emotionally from me and treats me like I cause all his personal problems.  He does this once in awhile it seems when I am finally feeling good.  Then it drives me to the depths of what I call my deep, black-hole depression.  Why can't people be nice to each other and just love each other.  It's like I have to stay depressed in order for him to treat me nice.  I know it is hard to live with, and I have tried and tried to explain to him.  I am not one to lash out unless I am really disturbed and that disturbs me.  But no pill, no therapy, will every take away the hurt my daughter has given to me.  This is a constant cycle.  No wonder Robin Williams left us at age 64.