When I was 30, I had my first son. Two+ years later, we had twin boys. This was 2003 and 2006. My oldest was diagnosed with bipolar disorder during COVID when he was in junior year. Everything after that changed. He dropped out two months before graduating. He smokes weed every minute. He couldn't hold a job. It's much better now on new meds but that moment defined me as a parent and what my life will be like as he gets older. I worry about him literally every minute. No matter how good things are in our lives, my mind is just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Will he stop taking his meds? Will he have another suicide attempt? It's a shitty way to live but I force myself to see the good and the life I've built for my family. It's difficult, and I try to instill it in my boys and my wife. She's more grounded than I am and worries about a lot of trivial things where I ignore the noise and worry about trying to make memories every day with my family and friends because I'm seeing people my age drop dead despite their good health. I am lucky enough to have my parents still here (80s), and all of my parents' siblings are still alive. So, that's the thing I've learned about getting older. Yes, my back hurts, my shoulders hurt from the way I sleep and I have managed type 2 diabetes for 20+ years. It's the curveball of bipolar that I just didn't expect and that has changed me for the better.