Thursday, March 5, 2015

Waiting For the Other Shoe

Have you ever not allowed yourself to enjoy life because you are waiting for the other proverbial steel toed boot to drop?  What if it doesn't?  Or what if that shoe is just a sandal?  The other shoe WILL most likely drop at some point, but it is what we do with ourselves in the mean time that shapes how we handle the "boom".

For the last two months we have been blessed to have my son back home.  It has been an answer to what seemed like a very long prayer.  But, and I really hate to be a glass half empty kind of gal, but, I keep waiting for the boom!  The past few years have been so volatile, so simply sad, I don't want to allow myself the joy I really want to experience.  The joy I'm entitled to feel.  As parents, mothers especially, we protect ourselves from the unforeseen, or from what we have already experienced and cannot bare to again.  Unfortunately though, in the process we miss a lot of life.

I know from experience that our lives can take a quick turn at any given time, but I don't have to lie in wait for what may or may not happen.  My kids think I'm boring, and they're right I AM boring!  I always have my suit of armor on to protect myself from the insignificant eye roll or the heart piercing "you will never see me again", always a crowd pleas-er to which I respond "good I hope I don't".  Not my proudest work, but oh so satisfying in the moment.  I've been in survival mode for so long, my kids don't remember the fun me, the silly me.  I really haven't given myself permission to be human because that means being the "v" word, vulnerable.

It's in that vulnerability that we also get to experience all of the positive, beautiful parts of life.  And in protecting ourselves from the pain we exclude ourselves from the peace.  And let's face it, when a relapse occurs we are going to want something positive to hold on to, to get us through it.  In these times I remind myself of the accomplishments my son has made since returning home.  I am proud of him.  He has finished school, he has a job and he is taking steps toward advancing his education.  A few years ago I would have assumed he would have accomplished this and more.  Well you know what they say, never assume because it makes an 'ass' out of 'u' and 'me'.  That pearl of wisdom was brought to you by my eighth grade teacher, Sister Thomas Ann. Yes, you read that correctly!  But I digress.  So when times get a little dark around here, I remind myself that he can and will do so much more.  And I think back to just one year ago, really just three months ago, his future looked bleak, and our family was fractured.  I am so grateful for right now.  It is by no means perfection, in the time I've taken to write this post, there have been setbacks, but nothing we cannot handle.  We are only guaranteed right now, so we can either lie in wait for the next horrible, awful thing to happen, or we can celebrate the good in the moment.  Okay perhaps celebrate is a little optimistic. Enjoy, bask, savor....you choose. 

I am learning that while I have been in survival mode, I have allowed friendships to deteriorate. People are busy, everybody has something pulling them back from sharing themselves with friends and loved ones.  And until we break the cycle of keeping to ourselves because it's easier, we just don't know who else may be waiting for the other shoe to drop.  I miss socializing, I've almost forgotten how!  But  I'm not alone.  There are many of you who are dealing with a relative's illness, a pile of bills, a demanding job, empty nesting it for the first time or you are doing it all by yourself.  And getting through each day on a wing and a prayer.  You're isolated because you don't think anyone else would understand.  Everyone else's lives appear so orderly.  Appearances can be deceiving my friends, and exhausting! It requires a lot of effort to maintain a perfect facade and frankly I don't have the energy for it anymore.  I know I can help more people if I tell my story, rather than worry about the handful who will judge me for it.  

If we do not put ourselves out there then what will fill our conversations we have with our spouses at night, or friends on the weekends?  For as much as I have immersed myself in all things Bipolar, not everyone is as enthusiastic, I get it.  I recently started a part part part time job as an independent consultant for a direct sales company.  Now, going way back to grade school, selling candy door to door, I knew I was not meant for this line of work. It was clear when my cousin, who was a natural born salesman even at the age of eight, sold the candy for me by telling people I couldn't speak.  Did I mention we were eight?  So, with that experience in mind, I thought it would be a fabulous idea to pursue this line of work now.  I am pushing myself out of my comfort zone, the bubble I've created for myself, and I am proud to say I am failing miserably!  It does not come easy to me, I fear rejection even at 40ish, okay it's a firm 45. But if I continue then I have something to call my own, fail or no fail, something to inject into a conversation, something to share, and most importantly something that keeps me occupied when the other shoe does drop.  Because it will drop, what goes up must come down.  Hopefully more like a feather rather than a lead balloon. 

Friday, December 12, 2014

'Tis The Season.....


.......To be jolly?  To be giving?  To be thankful?  To put on a happy face when all is not right with your world?  For those who experience mental illness the holidays can be brutal.  And for their caregivers as well.  Mental illness doesn't take time off, it can in fact work over time through the holidays.  This magical time of the year is bustling with expectations, which will either be met or feared.  The build up can be too much to bear.



I used to love the Christmas season.  I say "used to" because our last few Christmases have been, simply put, sad.  Bipolar Disorder stole some very precious moments, days, weeks, months from my son, and in turn from me.  Far too often, I feel I'm at battle with a disease we cannot physically see, except in my son's eyes. And far too often I feel like waving the white flag of surrender.  This Christmas is one of those times.  Oh how I would love to wish away the holidays.  I know, that sounds horrible!  I cringed as I typed the words. But even an illness free holiday is accompanied by stressful situations, some simply unavoidable.  There are gifts to purchase, cards to send, parties to throw or attend.  There are children's plays to see, trees to decorate, cookies to bake and lights to hang! And hopefully in the midst of all of the insanity, some thoughtful reflection as to the true meaning of it all.  At the heart of it for this Catholic girl, it is a baby away in a manger.  And when reduced to it's simplicity, the mania of the season (pardon the expression) appears slightly easier to tackle. 



As a mother, I can't abandon our Christmas traditions for an island and a drink with an umbrella.  Can I?  No, I know that if I did, I would regret what I didn't give my daughters who deserve life as usual, and that includes the holidays.  I would regret what I would have cheated myself as well, their joy, their memories in the making.  But, I can choose the elements of the season on which I focus my attention.  For example, I am excusing myself from sending Christmas cards this year.  I have been sending photo cards for many years, and for those of you who do as well, you are keenly aware of how not-so-joyful an experience the taking of the photo can be.  One child always manages to infect their siblings with their bah hum bugs.  It starts with a pinch, the whining ensues, the photographer, which is me, is perspiring like she just finished a hot yoga class.  And damn it the sun just went down......we've lost the shot.  Am I alone in this?  For many like myself, the Christmas card photo represents where we are at this moment in time, figuratively and literally.  When one of my kids is struggling, however, I can't bring myself to capture his struggle in a snapshot, pain disguised as perfection in a picture, mailed to our loved ones, none the wiser. 



Have I significantly depressed you? That is not my intention.  I want you, if you are challenged by the stress of the season, to give yourself permission to eliminate a stress factor of your own.  We do so much out of obligation during the holidays, we owe it to ourselves to be honest about the elements that cause us stress, sadness or anxiety.  None of us is immune to it, so why not own it? It is okay to include your not so proud moments when singing the praises of little Tommy and Suzie in your annual Christmas letter. Dare I suggest you even post some not so perfect photos for your end of the year social media montage?......sarcasm is a friend of mine of you haven't noticed.  Even in the classic Christmas movies I watch religiously, in which the holidays appear idealistic, perfection is never achieved.  But in the end the common denominator in most, is those who surround you.  We can choose to set different expectations for the holidays, ourselves, and our loved ones who are paddling against the tide of mental illness.  I don't know whether my son will be seated at the table for Christmas dinner.  I hope for it, I pray for it, but I can't control it.  I'm hoping I can suppress my own expectations for what this year's Christmas should look like, and appreciate the moments my son spends with us along the way.  In theory, it sounds so evolved doesn't it?   In practice, well I will have to let you know. 



I know in my heart that my son would choose to participate in all things Christmas if it didn't overwhelm him as it does.  For him and so many others, family can be the cause of stress and anxiety and depression. I struggle not to take this personally, because I want family to be the safest place he could be.  And it pains me to think of the special moments and memories in the making he might be missing.  So the mantra of the day is "no pressure".  This is a tall order for someone who tends to aspire to the Martha Stewart version of all that is Christmas, guilty as charged. I will burn this into my brain for the remainder of this season, because the one thing I hold onto is hope.  I hope for small treasures such as "I love you" and "how was your day", a hearty laugh at a silly, inappropriate joke (he is 18 after all) or sharing a cup of coffee.  These are memories in the making too, not to be cast aside as mundane.  Therefor I will not wave the white flag of surrender today.  I will come to love Christmas again!  'Tis the season......for hope.








Monday, September 15, 2014

Suicide and Our Youth

I have been silent for a while.....unable or unwilling to write, perhaps a bit of both.  But what brought me back to my keyboard was a need to express my thoughts on suicide, as last week, Suicide Prevention Week drew to a close.  Unfortunately mental illness and suicide often cross paths, and with statistics showing that 90% of those who die by suicide have been diagnosed with a mental illness, I myself find it impossible not to worry almost daily.

Each year 4600 hundred lives between the ages of 10 and 24 are lost to suicide. I had to look twice at that statistic because my youngest is turning 10 soon and no child should have thoughts so dark so young.  1100 of that 4600 are college students. The number of attempts are far greater, 157,000 youth between 10 and 24, are treated for self inflicted wounds, and this is just what is reported.  There are far more who contemplate ending their lives, choose not to, and never say a word because they are ashamed.  Shame and fear drive the decisions of many teens who feel isolated and alone.  I guarantee that your teenage son or daughter knows someone who has either contemplated or attempted suicide.  Why?  Well that is a complicated question, with an equally complicated answer.

There are many reasons young people take their own lives.  For those who have been diagnosed with a mental illness such as depression, or bipolar disorder or schizophrenia, there is not just the issue of chemical imbalance, or the "mind games" these disorders play, but the drugs used to treat them.  It is a catch twenty-two of sorts, the necessity of medication and the dangers of their side affects.  For young people especially, when the mind and body are not fully developed, anti-depressants can be very tricky.  It is vitally important to watch your son or daughter very closely when starting a new medication.  The teen years are already fraught with angst, loneliness and isolation for so many, so it can be difficult to determine when a teen is just being a teen, and when they demonstrate more than moodiness.

Social media, a demon I did not have to contend with as a teenager, has altered how young society communicates today. When I was young, (oh how I hate saying that)our only form of communication, other than messenger bird, was the equally archaic home telephone.  We were not in round the clock contact with our friends, and when I say 'friends', these were people we actually knew......in the flesh.....not on line.  Which leads me to my point.  With 872 'friends', how could anyone feel so alone?  Because it is not real!  It is not genuine, or substantive, or reciprocal in any way, it is simply an escape for some, a race to the popularity finish line for others (a race some adults are still running) and a really big problem.

A child who is lonely can hide away in the world of abstracts, mistaking technology for true companionship.  A child who is bullied, no longer has respite in their own home.  As a young, skinny, freckle faced, shy girl, with a lazy eye, I took some verbal hits, but I always knew that once I was home, I could block it out for another night.  Today, teens and even tweens can torment 24/7 by posting on social media sites and group messaging, until there is no safe place to go. I, at least had time to regroup after a rough day at school, but there is no down time for a young person today, so the weight of the world continues to bare down on their heart and soul. This is what brings thoughts of suicide to the mind of what some might deem a seemingly aloof and moody teen. This generation has been given a gift and uses it as a weapon.  Perhaps they are simply too young for such a gift, and we have underestimated its power in the hands of the under developed mind, and over emotional heart.

So where do we go from here?  Well, we watch our kids for signs, mental illness or not.  The quirks not noticed before, the changes, subtle and not so subtle, in behavior. And the friends, we have to pay attention to their friends.  Do they have any?  Are our kids socializing with a completely different set of friends than last week, or last month?  Have they lost an interest in school, or sports, or something they used to be passionate about?  As if our parental plate isn't full enough, we must, as parents of teens and pre-teens, be mindful of these changes. Most will hit the expected bumps in the road, but some will have to look closer and get help.

Getting help for your teen can range from seeing a therapist, to hospitalization.  If you are faced with having to hospitalize your child, it can be terrifying, and very tricky to navigate, especially if your child is an adult teen.  Suicide is never a topic to be taken lightly, even when your son or daughter makes a joke, they may be testing the waters to see if you pick up on it.  Do not be afraid to have that conversation, as uncomfortable as it may be, it may save their life. 

Robin Williams' suicide hit me particularly hard, as my family was in the throws of a crisis at that time and it hit close to home.  There is nothing black and white about suicide, it is ALL about the grey in the middle.  It is about pain, confusion, despair and isolation.  I used to think it was a terribly selfish way to leave the world, and those left behind, but I now believe the person suffering believes they are relieving those around him or her of pain they think they are causing. You and I know that their death brings more pain, not relief, but you and I are mentally healthy.  The mind that cannot rest, or the heart enveloped in pain, does not rationalize, if they did, if they could, they would choose to live. 

If you know someone struggling there are help lines and organizations equipped to help.
The National Suicide Prevention Hotline is 1 800-273-TALK
 NAMI  (National Alliance on Mental Illness) NAMI Information and help line is 1 800-950-NAMI

I urge you to go to cbs.com or YouTube to watch the episode entitled 'Nowhere to Go: Mentally Ill Youth In Crisis', about Virginia State Senator Creigh Deeds' mentally ill son, his attempt to help him, and how the mental health system failed them both. This piece shows just a glimpse of what parents of children with mental illness cope with daily.  I hope this starts a dialogue with your son or daughter, whether you are casually checking in with them, probing a little deeper because they seem a little down or angry, or perhaps they have questions for you because they "have a friend who"...........however it comes about, your relationship will be richer for it, and some of you will save a life.

I really only scratched the surface of this delicate, but all too pressing issue.  Once again, stigma prevents those who confront depression, and other mental illnesses from asking for help.  Stigma stops parents from asking the right questions of the right people, and stigma creates shame.  Shame is debilitating.  Do not be ashamed.






 


Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Discussing Mental Illness in the Wake of Tragedy

 I  started writing the following a few weeks ago so now I am a little late to the table in posting, but perhaps that is for the best because it is a topic all too often forgotten as soon as the next piece of "breaking news" makes air.  So consider this post a painful reminder of current issues that beg for our attention on behalf of those who do not have the voice to ask for it themselves.

Sadly, within a week's time, two young adults have taken the lives of others as well as their own.  First, in Santa Barbara and then within walking distance from my home, in my very own neighborhood.  In both instances, before any details could be made known, there was an immediate rush to call for gun control.  Not to mention, a frenzy of finger pointers, looking to lay blame.  I cannot imagine the pain, frustration, and depth of loss the parents of the UC Santa Barbara students are experiencing.  Nor can I know the hurt and confusion the family of the young man who shot his parents and sister are feeling.  These two situations are devastating, and the affects of the loss ripple through their respective communities.  And the timing of the two affected me deeply.

Mental Illness is so misunderstood by so many, that it takes only one or two uneducated comments made by TV reporters to create a stir of public mutiny.  We, the majority, the 'mentally sound', cannot grasp why or how someone could so coldheartedly take the lives of others......they must be crazy!  They must be mentally ill!

Only 3 to 5 percent of mentally ill contribute to violent crime.  They are more likely to be the victim of a violent crime.  It is easier for the media and our government to lay blame with gun control or lack there of, rather than getting to the heart of the matter, the mental health system, or lack thereof, and the insurance industry.  Gun control would appear to be the 'quick fix'.  The legislators in favor of it make some noise when mass shootings occur, claiming that we need to take guns out of the hands of the mentally ill.  Yet just weeks later, where are they?  They don't want to do the dirty work required to look beyond gun control, and pass mental health legislation that sits on their collective desks for years.  They would rather stir the pot, and therefor the masses.

In most cases, going back to Columbine, these mass shootings were very deliberate, and methodically planned.  They were carried out by individuals who craved attention in the darkest of ways.  They were bound and determined to be "infamous".   Sadly, they make news for a short time and soon forgotten, while the victims families are left devastated, their lives changed completely.

What needs to happen?  A series of changes need to be implemented, from the mental health system, legislation, the insurance industry and law enforcement.  There is systemic ripple affect for those diagnosed and undiagnosed with some form of mental illness, getting lost in the cracks of society. 

Early mental health intervention:  If you are fortunate enough, as a parent, to see any warning signs of mental illness in your child's formative years then you have the opportunity to seek early intervention with a therapist or psychiatrist.  Your roadblock will be the insurance companies.  They won't cover the doctor you really want to see because the psychiatrists and therapists worth seeing, don't want to play the insurance industry's game.  The insurance industry wants to tie the hands of the doctors who help our children by limiting the number of sessions covered per year, and controlling the medications prescribed  by the professionals.  Doctors want to treat their patients without the interference of the bottom line.  I can't blame them!  But, it narrows options for many seeking help for their sick children.   And if you think that the Affordable Care Act will help, think again.  On the surface it makes many promises to improve the system, but when you dig deeper, nothing has been determined, nothing is set in stone.  And, as per usual, the government believes it knows best where your child is concerned.  Within the Affordable Care Act hides a program for home visits.  At first glance this sounds like a welcome provision for any parent who has a child with a mental illness or brain disorder.  But, in actuality it is a program that red flags children with social and/or developmental delays, children with low student achievement,  families with members in the armed services, and children of mothers under 21.  The government representative decides what is best for your child, and you must comply.  Oh, and if you are a smoker with a child in your home, they'll help you too.  Now, admittedly, I detest smoking, and if you are smoking around me in public, I will shame you with a look of disgust, but what you do in your home is your business.  The government doesn't feel the same, because if it is providing for or paying for your insurance coverage, then they dictate your choices. How is this considered health coverage?  And who are these representatives?  Are they mental health professionals who understand what your child's needs are, and what you deal with daily? And at the end of the day, mental health professionals in private practice still do not have to accept insurance, and for those of us seeking help in the private sector, we are once again on our own. I don't ask that the playing field be leveled, life is not fair and full of challenge, but this is not a three ring circus, and we should not have to jump through countless hoops in order to receive the necessary tools to both protect and care for our loved ones.

In my next post I will be discussing legislation for the mentally ill and their caretakers.  There is currently quite a bit happening in this arena including bipartisan cooperation in congress, who would have thought! 

The topic of violent crimes and the mentally ill is very tender and painful but a discussion very much needed, and I pray what follows is measurable change. 





resources for this blog post:
www.bipolarchildsupport.com/ObamaCareTruth.html


Friday, May 23, 2014

Painting Outside the Lines: Accepting An Alternative Approach

I have always considered myself a paint within the lines kind of gal.  I am artistic and creative, but safe.  I guess you could say I am a Type A personality with a side of "roll the dice".  I don't like change, yet I crave spontaneity at times. I am, for the most part, a rule follower, not a rule breaker.  But Bipolar Disorder is a rule breaker, a game changer if you will.  It forces me to look for alternative ways to approach life.

This time of year is particularly difficult.  Had my son continued with traditional education, he would be graduating from high school.  And I am selfishly mourning the loss of all that goes with the pomp and circumstance.  His loss is greater than mine, I know, and hopefully a short lived loss.  There is no senior photo hanging on the wall, no prom, no yearbook, no cap and gown.  And I know he wishes it was different, I'm sure he would go back and do things differently if he could, wouldn't most of us?  I see friends photos and announcements celebrating their son or daughter's achievements and college endeavors and I find a lump in my throat accompanied by a twinge of jealousy.  Don't misunderstand, I am very happy for them, and want nothing but success for their children, but I would also be perfectly content skipping right through the month of June and landing on July 4th.

This is when it is appropriate, even encouraged to color outside the lines, to think outside the box and change my approach.  Bipolar Disorder is as I said a rule breaker, therefor, to a point, I must be too.  Traditional methods of parenting a child with BD do not apply so I have to alter the course. I am challenged to find more effective ways to communicate and problem solve.  For someone who has BD, loading them up with a list of goals is overwhelming, and futile.  It is best to set a few at a time, therefor creating the possibility for success and lessening distraction.  There is a war going on in their head between the grandiose ideas they create verses the lack of confidence they are left with when they cannot see it through to fruition.   They are so sure that they are right but cannot see their way through the process. Imagine how that must feel?  We deem it failure.  If you thought you failed at every attempt to see a goal to fruition, where would that leave your confidence?  Where would it leave your soul?  You would be crushed, you would feel defeated all of the time.  

Conventional education can come with all sorts of anxiety ridden circumstances.  Alternative methods such as independent study, or even, yes the GED, should be considered.  Trust me, that is a hard pill to swallow, but I would rather my child not get mired down in what others may think, I want his focus to be on his future.  We, and I include myself, are conditioned to believe that everyone should follow the same path.  Four years of high school, followed by four years of a college chosen from your many options.  And for many that is exactly how it goes, and good for them.  But our education system fails to meet the needs of those who color outside the lines.  It is ill equipped to handle our 'out of the box thinkers', and what a shame, for while the bipolar mind may be divergent, it is often creative and brilliant. The road less traveled should be encouraged when the mainstream options have failed.  We need to recognize the gifts, within the illness.  More importantly, my son needs to see his own potential, and know that he can in fact reach it by less conventional methods.

He is actually more aware of it than I am.  He knows that his sleep patterns and issues with focus are key factors in planning his schedule when he does attend college in the fall.  A lighter schedule of classes is more appropriate for him, so as not to set himself up for failure.  He knows enough about himself to consider all of the issues that challenge him, the follow through is where it gets tricky.  So we continue to encourage, and try not to dwell on what may be missing.  We look for the gifts within the illness and wait for the moments in which to coax them out.  It can be a delicate dance, knowing when to lead and when to let go, when to push and when to pull back.  I know what you are thinking, everyone needs to know failure, how else do we recognize success?  I agree completely, but for those with bipolar disorder, failure is felt more often than by the average individual  and the result is often depression, so why stack the deck? 

I know in my head this is what he needs, my heart is trying to catch up.  I want so badly to take the proverbial paintbrush out of his hands and paint the picture I see for his future.  But this is his journey and my job is to encourage him to attain that future in a way that is productive and healthy for him.  So if trading a few traditions that will soon be in his past, for the possibility of a bright future, then by all means color outside the lines, outside the page if necessary.  Our history books and museums and theaters are filled with successful individuals who did just that while living with mental illness.  Playwright Tennessee Williams, British Prime Minister Winston Churchill, Ludwig Von Beethoven and Sir Isaac Newton, to name just a few.  Perhaps we should focus less on how everyone reaches their destination, and how long it takes to get there, and instead appreciate the journey itself.  I know that I still have a lot to learn about how to deal with Bipolar Disorder, and I hope I can be open minded and less controlling(not a quality I am known for) when my son's future is more Jackson Pollack than Claude Monet.

Thursday, May 8, 2014

Mother of All Mothers...That's a Compliment

In honor of Mother's Day, I dedicate this post to all mothers, those with children living with mental illness, and all mothers fighting the good fight every day to provide love, encouragement, support, stability and opportunity for their children.  While Hallmark recognizes mothers one day a year, it is a 24/7, 365 day a year, forever endeavor.    So enjoy your day, whether it be spent with your kids, who are pretending not to hate each other just for a day, or in solitude at a spa with a glass of wine, or a little of both. Hold tight the memories made this weekend.

I'd like to talk about one mother in particular, my own.  I could not have gotten through so many of the challenges of the past two years without this incredible woman.  She personifies strength and determination for me.  To quit is not in her vernacular or her DNA, she is tenacious and uncompromising when it comes to her family.  She is who you want in your corner when the chips are down, and everything seems impossible.  My mother is a bulldog in sheep's clothing. 

 When my son was first diagnosed, my mom researched every site she could on bipolar disorder, she educated herself so that she could better understand my son and what my family goes through. When it comes to health, mental or physical my mother has always believed in educating oneself in order to be one's own and best advocate.  It is no different for those she loves.  She would email various sites to read, and when I was too wrapped up in the eye of any given storm, it was comforting to know I could talk to her, in short hand, without rehashing the day in detail.  She didn't blink when I would snap at her in exhaustion, but instead offer an ear to bend.

In the past year in particular, my husband and I have been faced with situations in which we could never have anticipated.  My son's bipolar disorder coupled with other issues forced us to make some heartbreaking decisions.  My mom was a rock.  She has never judged her grandson for his actions, and she has been witness to some doozies.  She sees him through a different lens and I have jokingly told her this wasn't the mom I had growing up.  But that wasn't her role as mother, she and my father had to make tough decisions for myself and my brother and sister as well.  As do any parents.  Her role as grandmother allows her to have a relationship with her grandchildren free of parental responsibility, and instead one of mentor, nurturer, and friend.  And she takes her role very seriously.  I count my children quite fortunate to have this woman as their grandmother. 

I have cried to her and  with her on many occasions, more than I can count.  But she always managed to give me hope, even in the bleakest days.  I draw strength from her when I'm feeling weak and unsure of myself.  I only hope I can do the same for her.  She defines 'selfless" and has given me much more than I have given her.  I want her to know I am always here to return the favor, although hers are big footsteps in which to follow.

I get to spend part of this weekend with  two of my favorite people.  I feel so blessed to be able to share a day that honors mothers with them.  Two mothers for whom I have profound respect, two women I am privileged to call mother and sister.  I look forward to spending the day, doing what we do best, talking for hours!  This is such priceless, uninterrupted (once you have children this word falls into unfamiliar territory, only to be found again in the years of empty nesting I'm told) quality time and I will cherish it.  And I will hold tight the memories we make.

Happy Mother's Day Mom.  Thank you for being you.

Monday, May 5, 2014

Sibling Balancing Act

As I mentioned in my first post, I am the mother of three.  And while it is my son who was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, the family lives with it, as if it is an additional family member.   How do we avoid allowing our other children to get lost in the fray?  Life is a balancing act without throwing mental illness into the fold, but how do we maintain this balance while living with what is, at it's very core, UN-balanced?  My family and I are constantly trying to figure this out.  Some days I think we have it down, and others I am reminded of how little control of said balance we have. 
 
Our two daughters are younger than our son, one almost fifteen and the other is nine.  Each have been affected but cope very differently.  Our older daughter is quiet, and doesn't like to talk about it.  She has many friends and I'm sure she confides in them often, as teenagers do.  She is a sweet girl with so much to offer this world.  Her silence is at times mistaken for strength.  My girl is strong but she is still just a girl who needs reassurance that things are going to be alright.  Our youngest, is definitely more vocal.  It isn't often that I'm forced to guess what thoughts are racing through that little head because if she's thinking it, she's speaking it.   But, I have noticed an increased level of anxiety, she has become a bit of a worry wart.  She has also demonstrated a need for things to be in a certain order.  However she is not at all allowing her fears or anxiety to inhibit her, she is always on the move and very social, some might say.....chatty.  

Actually, my little chatterbox asked if she might be able to write something of her own to be included in this post.  When I started writing this blog, and had it open on my computer, and she asked about it.  After explaining that I wanted to help other families like us she asked if she could too.  So the following paragraph is written by my "youngest contributor" from the heart of a nine year old.


Hello. I am Colleen Sagert’s daughter, Bridget. I am in 4th grade. I asked my mom today if I could write about what it is like for kids to see bipolar in action and how you can help them take their mind off of it. A little while ago I went to see a therapist. I told her when there were fights I was asked to go to my room, and that I would wonder and be worried about what’s going on outside the door because I could hear it all but not see it all. She told me things I can do to take my mind off what is happening. So, she told me I can get a tissue or shoe box and decorate it ahead of time. I can fill it with anything! Like nail polish, paint and paper, coloring materials, duck tape, and all kinds of stuff! I haven’t gotten a chance to try it because things are actually going very well right now. But, I bet the shoe or tissue box idea works!!!  Another way was if my parents could start spending some more time with me.  For example, maybe shopping or go out for brunch or dinner. I hope this was helpful advice! 

Simple, right? We forget just how basic our kids' need really are.  Some love and time, and apparently brunch on occasion, is what they need and ask for even when living with bipolar feels so complicated.  How do we maintain the connection, and give our undivided attention to our other children when our lives are steeped in chaos?  It is all too easy to delay giving them what they need because their demands aren't as immediate as the child who is depressed or manic.  But if we delay too long, they will be.  I catch myself focusing so much on my son and his needs, or how I'm being affected that even in good times I don't pay enough attention to my daughters.  I have to reprogram myself to turn my focus on my girls.  I don't mean to imply that it is work to spend time with them, just that at times It is a conscious effort.  Have I taken them shopping one too many times?  Perhaps, but I would rather they remember a shopping trip with their mom than a screaming match.  And just maybe at times I overcompensate because they are both daddy's girls and yes, I'm a bit jealous.  I admire my husband for his ability to in a sense, shake off a bad day and turn his attention to his daughters, because they can turn his day around.  I don't let go that easy, and so I miss out on some of the good stuff, but I'm trying.  Admittedly, there are days when I don't want to deal with a play date for my youngest daughter, because I don't feel like being "on", but I realize how important it is to maintain the normal as much as possible. After all they did not ask for this either.  

Everyone has something they are dealing with, and I hope that my daughters have learned that they are prepared for anything life hands them. My son's struggles have taught my girls to be more compassionate and understanding.  And although there have been times when they have been separated by distance or emotion from one another, there is an unbreakable bond between my three kids I hope only strengthens with time and maturity.   They might even appreciate each other more for having gone through such challenging times.   My son loves his sisters and they love him, it is simple.  

I don't pretend to have all the answers in regard to raising children, but I do know that if we can strip back the complicated and feed our kids' basic needs then we are in a good place.  If we are checking in with them regularly, and doing our best to keep things as normal as possible, by being consistent then hopefully they carry fewer emotional scars with them as they grow.  It all comes back to balance, and placing just as much importance on your healthy kids' needs.  Every one's individual success is vital to the success of the family.  If we concentrate on only one or some, then the family falls apart.  It is often impossible to give everyone our attention 100% of the time, but it seems almost instinctual for children to know which one of them needs the most attention, and who should step back.  Not always, but sometimes when we, the parents need it the most.  Something else to remember is how we benefit from giving more of ourselves to our children.  As parents of children with mental illness, we so often feel beat down and unappreciated, and beg for that child's love, when through no fault of their own, they are unable to express it.  Spending some extra time with our other children can help to ease some of the sadness.  They fill our cup, and we fill theirs.  And on a good day or week or month, there is balance, which feels like an undeniable accomplishment.