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!!