I have been aware of my bipolar disorder for 3 years now.
It was not an easy ride.
I have to say that people in my family trying to help me didn't work at all.
Only by feeling the consequences of following a manic mind til rock bottom was i then able to accept that maybe something in me was the problem. My brain chemistry.
Currently, my sister--a mother of 3--is manic. For an entire year. Her kids are exhausted from it too. They live only with their dad now. Some of the kids go to counselling. An effective tool to help the kids feel like they can still be kids is to NOT pass the phone to a child when their mother calls, but rather say, "I'll take a message for him/her." The kids need safe places to play, be kids and not have this dark cloud of "will my mom call to ramble and giggle and rage at me while i'm here?" My whole family does this telephone thing passed on by the kids counsellor.
i myself choose not to enable my sister to stay in manic high forever. Don't give her rides, pay her bills or any such consequence of wanting to live in her alternate universe of the manic mind.
i feel sad about her state of life, health, mind, lack of mothering capabilities due to self-involed-mania, but i don't feel guilty as much anymore. I didn't create her problem and i'm not enabling her to lengthen her manic period. I want her back. I'm fighting to have her back by letting her feel the consequences of mania, "good", bad and definitely ugly. But some family members do enable. We're all on different pages of the bipolar-awareness book, and yes, this sucks.
There's always some sadness to every bipolar situation.