Golf and me...

I used to be a professional golfer. The reasons for my "used to be" status are many, but basically, life happened. The last time I took the game seriously was when I was 35 years old, before the birth of my son Daniel. I had started at 8 years old and played junior golf, college and professional golf as well. When I was pregnant with my first son I started teaching. Golf was a major part of my life and then I just stopped.

I wish I could write about my experiences with golf without mentioning my mental illness, but I can't. I was severely depressed during periods of my career and had several manic episodes during that time. That and other factors like time, my ability to financially afford it, and apathy, all contributed to the ending of my participation in the sport.

Now my sons are into the game. Danny loves to play and Jake has a goal of improving to the point of playing some amateur tournaments. I pulled out my old instruction books and re-read them in order to teach him. We go to the range and I give him lessons. and it has piqued my interest in golf again.

Presently I have a goal of returning to golf. I am walking and lifting small weights to get back into shape and will start hitting balls after the holidays. My goal is to play with my sons this summer! It is a major motivation for me to participate in the sport I loved so much with them. I probably won't play at the same level I used to and don't have any interest in playing competitively but that won't stop me from trying to beat the boys! I just want to have fun with it again!

The thing I have missed most about golf is the atmosphere . I loved the beauty of the golf courses I played and being outside and active was a strong talisman against my bipolar disorder. Basically when I play, my mind is off myself and I concentrate on the beauty of my surroundings. It's good to focus on something completely outside of my struggles, and I miss the opportunity to do so in the sport.

I really don't know how this is going to go! It is going to take a lot of effort and practice to get back into golf, but I welcome the challenge. I just want to have fun with it and enjoy the process. Wish me luck!!

For the boys

Jake , my oldest is getting married in January.  I am so proud of Jake and the man he has become. He is smart, loving and compassionate, and will make a wonderful husband. Jake has supported me in my struggles with mental illness and is a constant source of encouragement. He is always interested in how I am doing, even when he is busy with the goings on of his young life. I am so grateful for him!

Danny, Jake and Jake's fiance' Julie!!

Life as a bipolar mother is extremely challenging. You don't want to burden your children with your "stuff", but kids are perceptive and know when something is amiss. My struggles with mental illness were quite evident. I cycled through mania and depression and parented from afar. My ex got custody of the boys after our divorce. I kept involved in their lives through visitation, phone calls and family events, but I missed a lot. There was no explaining their circumstances without a conversation about mental illness. They responded with an inordinate amount of love and compassion though, and we are very close.

Danny and Jake , I feel, are better men because of their exposure to mental illness. They are resilient in the face of challenges and have empathy for the struggles of others. They have had their struggles as well, but seem to have weathered the storm that is bipolar disorder. Who knew that such a diagnosis in a mom would be so character forming in a son?!

I would encourage those who live with a mental illness and are parents to be open and informative about their diagnosis. Children have an amazing capability to adapt if they know the truth. Chances are they have guessed already that you are struggling and information goes a long way in assuaging fears.

In short, I live on in spite of a mental illness because of my motherhood. My children are a reason to combat my depression and guard against mania. Like many others, I do things for my children's sake. It is the ultimate motivator!!!

My Manic Side...

Mania is such a scary word. The experience of it is scary too. I don't read much about that. Although I have experienced the high of mania, my manic episodes were frightening ordeals. The feeling of feeling "too good", quickly evolved into psychosis and a total loss of touch with reality.

I can describe what it feels like to be manic and psychotic. It starts with a feeling of total well being. My thoughts and verbiage come in rapid succession. My mind works at a fast clip and eventually becomes rapid speech and racing thoughts. I require little or no sleep and have no tolerance for people who are concerned for my manic behavior. At first it feels so good to feel good after a long depressive episode which usually happens before a manic one. I do too much, spend too much, engage in a million activities and experience grandiosity. In short, I am too much!

Eventually my mania gives way to psychosis. I believe I have special insight, and although I don't experience auditory or visual hallucinations, I do experience delusions and paranoia. During my last episode, I was convinced I was in danger  from the medical team at the hospital and particularly one doctor. I was terrified of him! Whenever I encountered him I shook, screamed at him and devolved into a crying jag. This always led to a time out in the isolation room and a shot of Haldol. The isolation room was a concrete space with a mattress in the middle. I was put in there till I calmed down and then administered a shot to ease my terror. I was completely gone but somewher in my mind I was cognisant of the horrific nature of the experience. It was the stuff of nightmares!


I also had the dellusion that my loved ones were in danger or dying. My mind especially focused on my Mom and I was convinced she was in peril. I spent many waking hours in a state of panic that she and others were gone, and I got little relief in my sleeping hours. I was plagued with nightmares and spent innumerable hours sitting near the nurses station seeking comfort, and in my sick mind, protection.


I think back on my last manic episode and seriously don't know how I came out on the other side. I was episodic for 9 months and was considered gravely disabled by the medical community and the state. I pulled out of my psychosis after a regimen of Invega and Abilify and the mood stabilizer Lamictal. I thank god for these medications and their healing properties.

My last hospitalization was 7 years ago and I am currently experiencing a period of wellness after many bouts of depression. I am always vigilant about my symptoms, especially hypo-mania, the precursor to full blown mania. I am terrified of being psychotic and gladly continue to take Invega and get a shot of Abilify every two months.  I will do anything to avoid another manic episode and slide into madness.

I especially want to thank my family and loved ones for staying with me during these periods of mania with psychotic features. Psychosis is scary and very misunderstood. They somehow endured, and during my episodes, were unwavering in their support and love

In conclusion, if you are experiencing bipolar mania I would encourage you to seek help.  Reach out and get help from friends, family, and the medical community. It can get better, be controlled and managed. I am living proof!

Mom and Dad and Mental Illness

My mother and father are my rocks. They have been there for me through every episode of depression and every frightening descent into mania. Mental hospitals didn't scare them away and they visited me faithfully. My parents are special people who have educated themselves about mental illness and follow through with consistent love and support. I am so lucky to have them.

My Mom Christine is a psychiatric nurse. At 76, she is retiring in January. She taught me early on in the course of my illness to accept that it was chronic and had to be managed. During a particularly nasty depressive period of my life she made me write down, "I am a manic-depressive." and had me sign it! I did so then commented, "but I don't want to be Mom!" She replied, "I don't want to get old!" The lesson that some things are inevitable and "it is what it is" stuck with me!

Don and Chris

My Mom came and stayed with me after the birth of both of my boys. I experience postpartum psychosis and she basically took over the duties of a new mother. I remember her feeding Daniel and watching Laverne and Shirley trying to get some comic relief in a dreadful situation. Her sense of humor made even the worst times livable. Mostly, I will always be grateful to her for listening to my cries for help. Mom cried with me, listened to my tortured thoughts and gently guided me to a path to wellness. She is the much loved matriarch of our family and is a precious human being!

My Dad Don is a retired business consultant and is a true problem solver and encourager. In fact encouragement is his special gift to our family, especially to me in my bipolar struggles. Since I was little he has quoted WIlliam Blake to me; "Catch the joy as it flies and leap into eternity's sunrise." It was a message of hope to a troubled mind. I can't count how many times he has spent chunks of time problem solving with me. I always knew I could go to him for advice that was filled with compassion for my mental illness. His love was and is a constant in my life. At 77 he has much wisdom and freely passes it down. What a gift.

Perhaps my parents greatest gift to me is their unrelenting faith. They modeled God's love and compassion; always. In spite of the fact they have two mentally ill children (me and my brother), they never got mad at God. Rather, they told me many times that "He knows." That phrase taught me to keep persevering knowing that He cares and suffers along with me. What a lesson! What a couple!!

For The Boys!

I have two sons Jake and Daniel. They are grown men now, Daniel is 19 and Jake is 26. I also have a mental illness. Bipolar disorder has affected my relationship with them in profound ways. So how do you mother when you are living with a mental illness?

When Jake was 8 and Danny 2, their father and I seperated, and eventually divorced. I had experienced multiple hospitalizations during the course of our marriage, and it all got to be too much. Especially after the birth of each of the boys. I had postpartum mania that evolved into psychosis. With Jake I was in the hospital the week after he was born. With Daniel the doctor treated me on an outpatient basis. The episodes were severe. I suffered from paranoia, delusions and psychosis. My mother filled the gap by staying with us and caring for both me and the babies. So the best time in my life was also the worst; a time of rejoicing in the birth of a precious child and the horror of being in the grips of a mental illness.

My ex got physical custody of the boys after our seperation. I was ill, having been hospitalized many times during Daniels first two years. I was also living in a foundation and was in no position to have them. I maintained a relationship with them through phone calls, visitation and my family's events.

It has been 18 years of continued determination to be in their lives despite a mental illness. Yet even though I was a willing participant, I missed a lot. Not being able to be with the boys has been the greatest challenge of my life.

Now that they are adults, Jake and Danny have come into my life in a big way. Daniel is in college, has a job and is involved with a christian youth organization. Jake is working at a production company and is  getting married in January. They truly have become fine young men, and I couldn't be more proud. We have been through a lot together and have come out the other side healthy and intact. I see them often and get the best phone calls from them offering their love and support.


Being a mother with bipolar disorder was and is a major challenge! The boys have witnessed my depression, watching me isolate and sink into a very dark place. They have also seen me manic, and endured the scarriness that it brings. Through it all, their love and support has been constant. It is a true miracle that we have survived and find ourselves in such a good place!

They say that people will respond if challenged to do things for their children's sake. I believe it and have lived it! There were many times that Jake and Daniel's presence in my life made me hang on despite my mental illness. I have stuck it out mostly because of their love and the promise of being involved in their lives. I am so grateful for them and consider myself extremely blessed.

In conclusion, I would say the following to any mother who suffers from a mental disorder to do the following; "Hang in there. Things get better with time. If you do your part, motherhood can be maintained and even flourish despite the presence of a mental illness. Do your part by seeking help! Reach out to the medical community, your family and friends and community resources. Contact Nami and get educated about your illness and the services they provide. Be diligent and persistent when it comes to coping despite your feelings". To quote Winston Churchill, "Never , never , never give up."!!!

My bipolar Christmas...

One Christmas, seven years ago, I spent my holiday in a psychiatric hospital. I had had a severe bipolar episode and was hospitalized to treat it. At the time I was so out of it that a lot of my Christmas that year is hard to remember. It comes back to me however in bits and pieces, and this Christmas with my brother in the hospital for his bipolar episode, the memories of that place and time are coming back to me in my waking and dreaming hours.

It's funny what a person remembers about a traumatic event. I remember being heavily medicated and trying to participate in a hospital therapy group. We were decorating holiday cookies and I recall breaking down and crying. It seemed so pathetic to me considering my circumstances. Nothing about the situation was merry and bright. I was taken out of the group because of my reaction and I had received a phone call. 

Phone calls are a big deal when you are in a mental hospital. When I got a call, it meant so much to me. Contact with the outside world and the living was one of the things that kept me from sinking even further into my illness. That Christmas my family called and after talking to my mom and dad they put my son on the phone. Danny, my youngest was crying and telling me how much he missed me. I tried to make him laugh by telling a joke but it fell flat and he began to cry. I tried to console him and failed miserably. It was heartbreaking.

If I were in a hospital for a physical illness things would have been much different. I probably would have received get well cards, and my family would have been comforted with well wishes and casseroles! It's radically different when dealing with a mental illness and psychiatric hospitals. The stigma and shame associated with mental illness is so pervasive.


That Christmas I received no cards and was surrounded by madness. My loved ones tried to cope with my absence at holiday events and dinners.  We truly suffered that Christmas and the feeling of absolute horror at my surroundings and the emptiness of being seperated from family are the things I remember the most.

This Christmas is radically different. My bipolar disorder is under control. I am medicated and well. I am surrounded by my loved ones and am fully participating in the preparations for the holidays. I will spend Christmas Eve with my family and Christmas day celebrating with cards and gifts and expressions of love and support. Since my 9 month stay in that hospital, I cherish Christmas and any day spent living and participating symptom free.

This Christmas I am praying for the joyless, those still suffering, and those who are spending the holidays in mental hospitals. It is my wish that they will receive comfort, care, and compassion. It is my hope that if you or someone you love is mentally ill, you can be encouraged to keep living in hopeful expectation of healing. So, with that in mind, may you find your holidays filled with love and support and the will to live on!

Tis the season...

This time of year is sometimes the hardest for those living with bipolar disorder. I am no exception. There have been many times where I suffered from bipolar depression during Christmas. I love Christmas so it was doubly hard to experience depression during this time of year. I also have been manic and hospitalized during Christmas. Mental illness strikes whenever it pleases, taking no account for the time of year.

Luckily I am stable this year and my medication is right. It has taken years to come up with the right combination. I take Invega, Lamictal, Aplenzin, and Effexor. All in different dosages at different times of the day. I also get a shot of Abilify every two months! It's a complicated combination but it has been effective in controlling my mood swings and keeping me out of the hospital.

Last night I went to my niece Jenna's play. The whole family went, and it was terrific. Because I am stable and not in the throes of a depression I was able to participate. That has not always been the case. I have spent many holiday family events in a bipolar fog, so dominated by my depression that it was hard to engage with the ones I love so dearly. The events themselves were an endurance test, mostly spent masking my mood and then feeling extremely guilty about my thoughts and actions afterwards.

This Christmas is so different from those trying times. There is a a lot going on! Jenna's play, Christmas preparations, a family Christmas eve dinner and the big day itself. My son Jake is also getting married in January so we are preparing for that as well. I don't think I could take being depressed this year. It would rip my heart apart to be sick for these special times. I am so grateful for wellness and am thankful that I have reached this point of stability in my recovery.

My humble place and tree!

So what has it taken to recover from a major episode and reach stability in my mental illness? Lot's of interaction with my psychiatrist not only to get my meds right but to track my moods and address them before things got out of control. I listened to those around me who have encouraged and supported my road to wellness, even when It was difficult to listen. Also, therapy has helped me deal with the guilt, shame and frustration that comes with living with a major mental illness. It has taken a lot of hard work, love and support to get to this place. I am lucky to have lived through it and survived, some are not so fortunate.

If you or a loved one is having a hard time this time of year, please reach out and get the help you need. No one suffering from a mental illness should go it alone. Please call the National Suicide hotline at (1-800- 273-8255) if you are having difficulty coping. You can also contact NAMI, an excellent organization dedicated to the needs of the mentally ill. I know I keep repeating this plea in my blogs, but it is so important to seek and receive help!

Lastly, it is my hope that those who are suffering will find comfort and healing this holiday. There is hope for recovery and mental illness can be managed. I am living proof!!

Me and my shadow...

There is no cure for bipolar disorder. No cure, only the possibility that it can be managed. What a daunting realization that was for me! I had to face the fact that my mental illness is chronic and I would have to deal with it for the rest of my life.

At first I faced this reality with denial. I didn't want to be bipolar! I was ashamed that I had a mental illness and didn't want to deal with it. The stigma surrounding mental illness really affected me and I spent many years being non-compliant to medication and therapy. Although I embrace wellness now, it was a long road of recovery to get to this point.

I can't run away from bipolar disorder. It follows me wherever I go. It comes up in conversation, in my actions and in my thoughts. It is the first thing I think of in the morning when I take my handful of pills, and is a constant throughout my day. I am always looking for ways to stay well.  Although I am stable now, the majority of my life has been spent dealing with the illness.

It seems to always come up. I am asked, "Why do you work only 20 hours a week?" "Why do you claim disability." "What do you take medication for?" "Why did my ex have custody of my children?" The answer to all these questions is because I live with bipolar disorder. Sometimes I am met with compassion when I answer these question honestly, but sometimes I am ashamed of the answer and deflect the conversation.

I have slowly made peace with the fact I am mentally ill and I am just starting to share my experiences with the diagnosis. I am careful who I share with. Although I am open in this blog, in my personal life I am cautious. Mental illness is still shrouded in shame and stigma. It's still a subject that most people are uncomfortable with. So, sometimes I deal with it in silence.

Coming out with my diagnosis has been difficult. It is painful to talk about my experiences with mental illness. I know though, that it is not only therapeutic for me, but it is also potentially helpful to those still in the dark or suffering.

It is my hope that this blog will help advance the conversation. I am tired of not being able to share fully my struggle with mental illness. Perhaps I can make people more aware of bipolar disorder and educate those who may not know much about it. 1 in 4 people deal with a mental illness so it is an area that must be addressed. Hopefully I can share my experiences and shed some light on a difficult subject!

The most important piece!!

My relationship with my medications is complex. I love them and I hate them!

Every 2 months I get a shot of abilify and then on top of that take 4 other meds for my bipolar disorder. I take; lamictal, invega, aplenzin and vistaril. It's the combination that works for me and it has taken many years to finally get it right. I love that it keeps me stable and functioning. I hate the side effects. For me it is mostly nausea and weight gain. I can handle being a little sick to my stomach in the morning after taking them, but the weight gain is a constant nuisance.

Pill shaming is a very real thing. I have been told many times that meds are detrimental. I have been questioned as to how they affect me physically probably because of my weight. In the past some of the other meds I was on really slowed me down. On some of the meds I have developed a slur, a shuffle and grogginess. I've been drowsy, nauseated, restless and slow. In reality though the side effects were ten times better than the alternative.

It is my belief that meds are a necessary part of my day to day living. I would not be stable without them. No amount of vitamins, healthy life style habits,  or meditation would help stabilize my moods. These things in combination with my meds are effective in calming the bipolar waters of my mind. Meds, however are the most important piece of my wellness puzzle.

I have a chemical imbalance in my brain that is chronic. My acceptance of the role of medication in my recovery has been so important. If I had a physical illness I would not hesitate to take medication and would not be questioned about why I did so . There is such a stigma that goes along with taking psychiatric meds though. People question their safety and effectiveness. All I can say is that it is my personal experience that they work and are the most important factor in my response to bipolar disorder.

It may take awhile before a patient hits upon the right combination of meds. It is my opinion that this shouldn't cause as much concern as it does. In any treatment of physical illnesses, many treatment options are involved. It is no different with a mental illness. It just takes time to find the right blend of chemicals to treat the brain.

It is worth it to deal with side effects. I really have come to a place where i hate it but accept it as part of my life. Meds are the most important part of the mental illness wellness puzzle. If you are dealing with medication issues, I encourage you to hang in there. It does get better and recovery,  aided by meds, is possible!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Bipolar disorder is a joy killer. Depression can rear it's ugly head at anytime and ruin your day or even long periods of your life. Without the ability to engage in life, I have at times been rendered hopeless and helpless.

Most of my depression happens in the summer months . For whatever reason I am much better in the months of September through March. You could chalk that up to being just my cycle but I think it's more than that. My wellness comes not from medication and therapy, (although those are in place) but from somethings that are not always associated with mental illness.

It is the attitude of gratefulness during thanksgiving, the joy of giving at Christmas and the hopes of a new start on New Years Day that lift my spirit and puts me , well, in a good mood.

Thanksgiving is a time for me to focus on how fortunate I am. Yes I have a mental illness and I suffer, but I am also truly blessed. This Thanksgiving even more so because I am stable and can recognize the many good things in my life. So, in honor of Thanksgiving I thought I would share with you why I am grateful. It's not only good for me, but maybe it will give you, the reader, a chance to get to know me better.

I am first and foremost grateful for my family. My father and mother have been so supportive of my journey through mental illness. They have seen me through manic episodes , crushing depression and a number of hospitalizations. Their love has been constant. My Dad has been a loving presence in my life and a giver of the best kind. He gives his time and attention to me regardless of my state of mind. My mother is a psychiatric nurse and is highly educated in the area of mental illness. She is loving and smart. A  gentle hand with a will of iron. She simply refuses to give up on me.

I have two boys, Jake and Danny. Jake is strong and kind, and doesn't hesitate to tell me he loves me. His words are a salve to my bipolar wounds. He is getting married in January, and brought a new light into our lives, his fiance Julie. She is lovely in every way.

Danny is a source of joy in my life. He is currently in college while working at the same time. He is a leader in Young Life, a christian youth organization. He recognizes my bipolar disorder but has a great attitude about it. While we are serious about it's destructive powers, we also laugh about it's quirkiness. He doesn't hesitate to challenge me to keep on the path of wellness. He calls me momma and verbally acknowledges his love for me.

I have a younger sister and brother. My sister is truly beautiful. She is smart and straightforward. She and her husband Kenny have always shown and voiced their support without hesitation. Their children, Cara, Ryan and Jenna are full of life and vigor. They amaze me with their talent and bring me such delight! My little brother is funny, with a wry sense of humor. He has funny nicknames for me and shares our bipolar diagnosis. He is struggling right now with his bipolar disorder yet he remains in my thoughts and prayers.

I continue, on a daily basis to be ever so grateful to my best friend Kathy. She is smart, funny compassionate and a true renaissance woman. She is a cook, an artist, a golfer and a realtor. It was her prompting and encouragement that got me to write this blog. She recognizes the limitations my bipolar disorder has imposed, and witnessed my depressions and manic episodes, yet remains my friend of some 30 years. Most of all she challenges me to rise above my mental illness and take on life regardless. She is a gift.

So, you see, I have many reasons to be grateful this Thanksgiving. I personally am grateful for my job, my medications and my doctor. They and she keep me stable and give me the ability to live life on the most basic level.

I am so fortunate to have all these things in my life. I still have mental illness and am constantly challenged by this disorder but I also have many blessings that offset its power in my life. I am one of the lucky ones. There are many who are not so fortunate. This Thanksgiving there are mentally ill persons who are in hospitals, languishing in jail or suffering silently in their everyday lives. It is my prayer this Thanksgiving that the conversation about mental illness will get so loud that it will cause a change. It is my hope that I can be part of that conversation, and offer some glimmer of hope to those affected through this blog.

Happy Thanksgiving!!

  

My brother, myself #2

What do you do when someone you love is mentally ill?  It's ironic that I have to ask myself that question when it comes to my brother. I am bipolar. My brother is bipolar. So not only do I experience the challenges that come along with having a mental illness, I watch as my brother does the same. 

My brother is currently being admitted to a long term care facility. He had a manic episode for the last couple of months that spiraled out of control. At first he went to an E.R. and was released in a day. After living on the street for a couple of days I think he got scared and went voluntarily into a psychiatric hospital. While there, he was evaluated and put on a 30 day hold while the conservatorship process was initiated. Conservatorship happens when the state deems that you are gravely disabled. And he is just that.

This is not the first time David has been hospitalized. We as a family have watched him go through this since he was 19. He is 40. For 20 years now he has been buffeted by mental illness. He has been rescued time and time again from bad circumstances before and after hospitalization. This time however, he is being conserved and the state will determine where and how he goes. A tough road lies ahead for him, but at some point on his journey he must face his illness and commit to recovery. I had to too.

So, what to do? I love my brother and hate to see him go through what I had to go through. I was conserved in 2011 after a severe manic episode. I was hospitalized for 9 months. During that time I was forced to face my illness. I was ill, it was chronic, and I had to realize that it would be a lifetime of taking medication, seeking therapy and participating in recovery. It has been a long, hard fight to recover and be well, stable and connected again to the world.  

I know what I am going to do in regards to David. I am going to write this blog more. Maybe there is someone somewhere who needs to hear that they are not alone in their struggles. Hopefully I can reach those that are hurting because of mental illness. Perhaps I can influence another David  and encourage him to seek treatment. It will make my journey worthwhile and so I will start today. Today I write for David.  

My brother, myself...

My heart is heavy today. My little brother is in the hospital on a 30 day hold to treat his bipolar diagnosis. I wouldn't wish this illness on my worst enemy let alone someone that I love. He was non-compliant with his medication and spiraled into mania in the last couple of months. Now, the powers that be have filed for conservatorship.

Conservatorship is basically the state deeming a person gravely disabled and unable to meet their most basic needs . My brother has found himself without the ability to provide shelter, food and mental health care by himself. Because he is so severely in the throes of a bipolar episode, a conservator will be assigned to him to oversee his hospitalization and return to the outside world.

I know what he is going through because I was conserved in 2011. After a 3 month hospitalization it was determined that I was gravely disabled due to my bipolar diagnosis. I stayed in the hospital for 6 more months then went before a judge to end my conservatorship and return to society.

Imagine trying to prove you are mentally stable to a judge! My hearing consisted of the judge peppering me with questions about my mental health. I answered honestly and told her I was mentally ill, and would be for the rest of my life. I told her I needed medication to stay stable and would have to take it the rest of my life. As I sat here in sweats and a hoodie I remember thinking, "I look crazy, feel crazy and probably come off as a complete basket case." I distinctly remember looking at my shoes and thinking how in the world would I ever convince the judge to "let me go". ( I didn't have shoe laces because you just don't in a mental hospital.
Fear of suicide by hanging) I felt like a freak and was shocked that the judge looked beyond appearances and terminated my conservatorship.

The thing about getting out of the hospital is that it requires the assumption of many responsibilities. You have to take your medication faithfully, be in the care of a psychiatrist and therapy and begin to live a life dedicated to recovery. I have no earthly idea how I've accomplished these things. I think it's because I wanted life back so badly that I became uber-compliant. My family, my kids and other loved ones were there for me and with their love and support find I myself where I am today.

I live independently in an apartment after 2 years in board and cares. I have a  small job that allows me to make ends meet. More importantly I am present in my childrens lives. It has been a long hard road of recovery. I can say now that I am stable and participating in a healthy life despite my illness.

I don't know how my brother will fare given the same challenges. He is stubborn and when he is the most ill, doesn't think he is sick. He has never faced the fact that he has a mental illnes and often stops taking his medication, self-medicating with alcohol and drugs. I fear for his life. He hasn't come to the realization that he has an illness that requires your full attention in order to survive. What will become of him?

One thing I do know. My brother has the love and support of many people and now has the presence of a conservator to oversee his path to wellness. I also know that my brother has me, waiting on the other side of his madness. I can't be shocked out of our relationship by anything he does or says while in a manic state. I have literally seen it all and experienced most of the horrors associated with mental illness.

And so I wait. I pray. I beg God and others to show my brother mercy as he finds his way. Bipolar disorder can't change the way I see him. He is handsome, funny and loving when stable. I pray that he will see better days and hope beyond hope that I will be there to see it.

Party on...

Parties are tough for me. My self esteem has taken quite a hit from my bipolar disorder and social situations make me uncomfortable. I am always afraid I will be "outed" and have to explain my mental illness.

This week I went to a party for my best friends birthday. I met a neuropsychiatrist who uses virtual reality to treat the mentally ill. My friend had sent me her bio, and I wanted to ask her questions about her specialty. I asked her several questions then "outed" myself and told her the reason I was asking was because I was bipolar and fascinated by her approach. She proceeded to ask me questions about my journey and my treatment. I spent a long time with her and left the conversation feeling  confident that I had shared openly and honestly about my experience.

Talking about my experience was cathartic but it brought up a feeling

that I struggle with on a daily basis. I felt some shame at first. When I told her I was bipolar some people were sitting around us and got up and left shortly after our conversation started. I must not have cared though because I kept sharing regardless. When the conversation was over I moved on to mingling with the other guests and felt somewhat unburdened. I had let someone else into my world and they had met me with understanding and empathy. It felt so good!

Writing about mental illness is so much easier than talking about it face to face with someone. I hear myself talk about my episodes, hospitalizations, victories and setbacks and wonder if the person listening will be judgemental. It's hard to think about all I have been through and articulate it. There has been so much!! I will however, start to talk about it more not only to help myself, but to possibly help others cope with their own struggles. Sharing is healing and I look forward to doing it more often!!   

They came back to me!

 I "lost" my children when Jake was 8 and Daniel was 2. My ex husband and I divorced, and he got custody of the kids. The reasons why we got divorced were many but my bipolar disorder was the main contributing factor.

After Jake I had an episode with psychotic features, after Daniel the same. After Daniel I went through a two year period of episode after episode. It devastated our marriage and we finally ended it. By the time we went to court to finalize the divorce I had become a part of a foundation for the mentally ill and was living and working in a board and care facility. I was in no position to have the boys. The judge ruled for full custody to go to him and I was left trying to figure out how to remain a part of the boys lives.

Daniel and I!!

Phone calls , weekend visitation and time with my family were the ways I stayed connected. For years though, 16 to be exact, I grieved the loss of being an all present mom. I missed a lot and it nearly killed me. I couldn't deal with it and continued to spiral into episode after episode of depression. The feelings of loss and grief never abated. I was devastated.

Recently, my sons have come back into my life in a big way. Daniel returned from a time at OU and visits me often, sometimes spending the night in between his travels from school and work. Jake lives just a hop away down the freeway and visits too. I always hoped that they would choose to include me in their lives when they were older and now that is happening. I love it! The grief has lifted and my spirit feels lighter. What bipolar disorder nearly destroyed, time and love have healed. So grateful!!

The Real Deal.

I JUST CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!! I am sure this thought has dominated the thinking of those who experienced mental illness. It sure comes up in my mind more often than I would like. The recent suicides of Anthony Bourdain and Kate Spade make me wonder if they had this thought too. 

I have never had suicidal tendencies. Sure, I came to the place where I had had enough and was sick of the struggle. I have been in that place for at least 6 months and understand how those who come to the end of their journey feel. Yet I do not have suicidal ideations or have ever had a plan. I have never made calls to say goodbye or given warnings that I was at the end of mine. I am one of the lucky ones who experience mental illness and still hang on.

Bipolar disorder takes it's toll. I am 53 years old and feel much older. I get tired of living with a mental illness and childishly wish it would all just go away. Yet I hang in there. I guess I am curious to see how it all turns out. I have a tremendous support system, loving family, and a great best friend. I have two sons who love me. I have come to the point of quitting and have not because of these things. I have relied on the fact that life can turn on a dime and the very next moment may bring relief from the pain. I am sure those who take their lives have many of the same thoughts that I do. They just can't take the pain any longer, and I understand.

Mental illness is cruel. It takes without asking and is hallmarked by hopelessness, helplessness and worthlessness. It is a life killer and does not discriminate. It doesn't care what race, religion, gender, sexual orientation or anything else you are, it will still strike. Those who suffer from a mental illness are much more likely to commit suicide and it is no wonder. You feel betrayed by your own mind and at the mercy of disease that robs you of your very self.

So what can one do to hold onto hope? I find that it is a day to day fight to maintain my sanity. Hope is something I cling to in order to keep battling. There is for me the hope of a better day, a lighter load and a future filled with "good things". It is just a matter of waiting for the next moment that may be brighter. I think that despair is the enemy of hope so I am learning to catch my depression before things get out of hand. No easy solutions, no cliche' sayings no pat answers . Hoping is hard work, it is complex and requires an effort that is sometimes herculean. But I can tell yo

u this one thing, it is worth it. Life is worth it.

If you are reading this and struggling to hang on to anything that will give you one more day, I would encourage you to reach out and talk to some one about how you are feeling. We are not meant to go it alone and speaking to another about your pain can lessen your burden. The National Suicide number is 1-800-273-8255. If you are a person who needs to call this number I would say to you, "Hang on, ride it out and wait for the next moment, You are valuable and regardless of a mental illness you are needed here and not yet there. Be brave, Donna.