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!