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. 

 

Mental illness and me...

I haven't posted a blog in a long time. I have no excuse really. For a while there I felt I had nothing to say that would uplift or educate a reader. I was not suffering from depression, which is a definite creativity killer, but I was suffering from a feeling of disgust. You see, I hate bipolar disorder. I have in many ways not come to terms with the illness. I grieve the fact that I have to accept that I have a chronic mental illness. At times I just don't want to deal with it, so writing about my struggles is a struggle in itself.

I realize that my posts may help others, and because of that , will have some merit. I also have to acknowledge that writing these posts help me. It's a way to cope with the mental illness that so often leaves me numb and unable to communicate. Bipolar disorder has it's way of shutting me up. Talking about it brings up the utter disgust I have that I suffer from an illness so few people understand. Mental illness is surrounded by so many misconceptions and is stigmatized even in a open society such as ours. Perhaps if I open up about my journey it will shed some light on how it feels to be mentally ill and what others can do to help.

I do have a reason to write this blog. My son graduated from high school this month and it brought up so many emotions. I was bursting with pride as he accepted his diploma yet also sad that I have missed so much in his life due to my illness. Again I couldn't contain the feelings of grief. I grieve because I feel cheated of the everyday interaction with my children that was stolen from me because of bipolar disorder.

My ex husband and I divorced after trying to cope with mental illness for 11 years. He just couldn't hang in there. In many ways neither could I and the decision was made to divorce. He got custody of my two sons and I got visitation and not much more. It was a soul killer. It sucked the life right out of me, and over the years the loss of my boys devastated me. Granted, I kept involved in their lives and wore out my phone bugging them about what was going on in their lives, but it wasn't the same as being there.

Danny my youngest survived the trauma of the divorce and the loss of my presence. He had every excuse to turn into an angry kid but somehow reconciled his experience with a mentally ill mom and thrived. Now that graduation has past, he is looking forward to attending Oregon in the fall. He is amazing and is the source of so much joy. He stops my mind in it's tracks and forces me to look on the events of my life in a more positive light.

Jake, my oldest, has had his own struggles. Addiction is a disease that has affected him, but he is overcoming it by attending many groups and following the path of sobriety. He took the divorce much harder but is coming to understand that mental illness affects families as well as individuals. He is running a sober living house now and sharing his hope and help to those struggling with addiction. I am so proud of him and his efforts to overcome!

I guess I should count myself blessed and stop feeling sorry for myself based on what a treasure I have in my sons. My mental illness does not define me the way being a mom does. I am learning that bipolar disorder does not have to dominate my life and grief can be healed with time and the love of others. It is a hard lesson to learn especially when depression hits and takes your mind hostage.

I do believe that there is hope for recovery from mental illness and I am well on my way to achieving my goal of living despite bipolar disorder. I hope that those reading this blog will fight the good fight and deal with their own issues. I keep reminding myself not to give up hope, that tomorrow may be a better day and the day after that even better. The struggle is real, but with the help of professionals and loved ones I am able to see my way through the darkness.

If you or a loved one is struggling with mental illness, please reach out for help. If it get's to be too much call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline at 1-800-273-5255. THey are there for you to answer questions relating to mental health and to  listen even if you are at the a critical point.

I am hopeful that reading this blog helps those who are dealing with their mental health, I am glad I wrote it because it has given me the opportunity to share my struggles and also hope in the good things in life. Mo
st of all I am grateful for a venue in which to express my gratitude to those loved ones who are helping me keep my chin up! I hope to write again, and with that, wish you hope and healing.