My girlfriend through most of college was bi-polar. I realized this, she denied it, and I stuck around because at 19 you’re sure you can “help” them if you just put up with enough.
Over the three years we dated she broke up with me several times on Thursday because she wanted to go with a guy over the weekend, then would beg me to take her back on Monday, and I would.
No matter if I had a test the next day or whatever, if she was feeling lonely, insecure or upset (ie if the day ended in y) she’d call and ask me to walk over to her apartment, 3 miles away and get furiously bitchy if I didn’t want to. The relationship was all about me, after all. I remember one night I caved, walked over, hung out for a while and then after she was satisfied with my devotion told me I could go. I asked her for a ride, since there was a thunderstorm outside, she said she had to go to bed so she wouldn’t oversleep her alarm in the morning.
Finally, as the relationship settled into a rut and we were both bored, we decided, amicably, to break up. We had a great last weekend together and that was that, I thought. A huge weight lifted off my shoulders and life was grand. For a week.
She decided being alone was too scary, that she really did love and want to be with me, that I was a raging bastard for walking out on her, etc. etc. etc. She started showing up at my dorm, calling me at all hours and parking next to the main campus entrance where I’d walk to class.
My favorite part, she called a meeting of every single girl I knew under the pretense she was worried I was going to hurt myself because I was suddenly so different. Once they were all assembled, she made them swear on threat of violence none of them would ever go out or sleep with me.
A couple times I relented and let her into my room to talk to her. Bad moves both times. At one point she pulled a knife, which I had given her and taught her to use, and attacked me. I took it away from her, slapped her (only time in my life I’ve ever hit a woman off the mat), put it on the desk and told her to give it another try if she wanted. She didn’t.
This loony shit went on for three and a half months. It would have gone on even longer, but I started dating someone else, summer break came along and after that was over I moved in with my new girlfriend, meaning the nutjob no longer had any way to find me.
Eventually she figured out she was nuts, went on meds and has been functionally sane for 15 years or so. We even talk on occasion now since she’s in no way, shape or form the frothing lunatic she was back then.