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. 

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.