A few weeks ago I became sick enough to admit myself to the hospital.
I’d never done that before. Crazy people don’t admit themselves on purpose, do they?
They do. I do. And I got better, at least a bit. (I had to get out of there-the boredom was maddening)
A couple of days after being admitted, I went home for some clothes. The way my children reacted, they way they still act, nearly broke my already shattered heart. They had missed me. They had been confused. They had wondered.
My children have already been privy to my mercurial moods. They handle my swings between clear anger and sweet joy with a grace I shouldn’t expect from them. They love me despite my illness. They watch me struggle and fight, watch me love them and sadly, sometimes hate them, ignore them, spurn them.
It’s no secret that sometimes parenting feels like a weight upon my shoulders that I cannot be rid of.
I want to love them purely. I want to love them simply, as I should. I’m their mother.
Seeing a terrifying realization in their eyes was one of the scariest things I’ve ever witnessed. The sense that Mom won’t always be there. The first abandonment. The first hurt. The first memory I am sure they will hold.
I hate myself for this. I hate my crazy. “To hell with you!†I scream at my bipolar. “I hate you! That’s IT!â€
I want it out. I never want to stare at peeling wallpaper in a room that feels like a cell. I never want to glance down the hall into the locked ward ever again. I never want to feel that adrift and scared and sad ever again. But I will. How likely it is that I will.
The only constant in my life is the fact that there is none. I might be in and out of hospital all of my life. I might get worse. My daughters will grow up to share stories about their crazy mother. They will grow distant, distrustful, and wary. They will worry about their mother when there should be nothing to worry about. They will feel fear.
I hate bipolar for what it has done to me, what it makes me. I hate that I feel helpless to it, that I cannot be the mother I know I should be. I hate being stared at. I hate knowing that upon hearing of my illness, my ability to mother is questioned. I’m tired of feeling no lust for my children, tired of being tired of them. Tired of being crazy. Tired of apologizing for parenting with a mental illness.
Can I make you understand what kind of hell each day can be for me? Can I describe on any level, the mood swings I have that take me from one end of the earth to the other, all in one afternoon? Can I explain with reasonable clarity, the constant visual hallucinations I ignore. The constant voice in my head telling me I’m just not good enough, not worthy, that I’m a waste of air ruining her children.
In the ward, no one had flowers, or cards. Rarely did anyone come to visit. We were alone with each other, adrift in a world that doesn’t know how to care, doesn’t know how to make us feel safe or soothed. Feeling crazy loses its allure quickly.
I worry my daughters will grow up with that same confused state of want, and I will grow more isolated and alone with each moment.
Will my honesty help them, or hinder them further?
[tags]kids, children, parents, mental illness, understanding, coping, fear, abandonment, protection, love[/tags]
13 responses so far ↓
SJ // Jul 31, 2007 at 12:33 pm
I feel for you - good luck with your struggle… bipolar runs in my family, and all I can say is that I think your openness about your illness will help your girls - they won’t be able to understand everything right away, but in the long run they will feel that they know their mother and her love for them, her strength, and her battle.
Slouching Mom // Jul 31, 2007 at 12:59 pm
Oh, babe. Hugs to you. I think honesty is absolutely the way to go. Your kids will thank you for it, promise. (I was raised in a family where there was no honesty about this issue. None. And I am still so angry and sad about it.)
I hope you’re feeling better, at least.
A. Tucker // Jul 31, 2007 at 1:35 pm
Kids know WAY more than we give them credit for. I agree that honesty and openness is the way to go.
I know what you’re going through; you need to do all that you can to make it possible for you to get help.
I think you’re doing the right thing, for what it’s worth.
Alicia // Jul 31, 2007 at 2:38 pm
You write so much of what I think. I am so grateful that my daughter (5 years) and I have talked about bipolar. We haven’t gone into details, but I know that when I’m having a “off” day or just really really need her to do her own thing because I’m not doing so well, I just tell her my head isn’t working very well today. She of course, has translated that into “mommy’s head is broken”. It’s cute, but it gives her something to use, words for her to relate to and I think that’s the best I can do right now.
My biggest fear is the bipolar issue will come up in the custody hearing…and that scares me.
I’m glad you were able to get help and I appreciate your sharing it with the world.
AngelNicki // Jul 31, 2007 at 6:00 pm
Your children undoubtedly missed you when you were in the hospital, but they also would have missed you just as much if you had been in the hospital recovering from an illness, or having a baby, or if you had gone on a business trip.
I am an adult who grew up with two parents who very likely did have mental illnesses, but never got treated. My brother and I did swap stories about our crazy parents… but then again, our friends whose parents were “normal” also swapped stories about how crazy their parents were!
What I think your kids are witnessing is a mother who loves them, and who does her best to parent them even when she is dealing with a mental illness that can be debilitating, and who is strong enough to get help when she needs it. Trust me, they are lucky to have you!
Elizabeth/BookTestOnline.com // Jul 31, 2007 at 7:54 pm
So sorry to hear about your pain and
sadness you face day to day. I will keep you in my prayers.
Elizabeth
MeMo's Mama // Aug 1, 2007 at 8:53 am
wow, so honest - thank you for sharing this with us! i have read recently that writing is proven to be extremely cathartic and crucial to healing, so i hope it helps you to share your thoughts and experiences with us. we are thinking of and praying for you and your family. you are so brave and strong and should be so proud of your strides to help yourself and your children!
Finn // Aug 1, 2007 at 10:10 am
Sweet girl -
You are very brave — just have to tell you that up front.
As for your kids, it’s better they know exactly what’s going on (in terms that they can grasp at their various ages) because they DO notice your moods, feelings, etc.
I’ve always said that happy parents make happy kids. Because you struggle (and I do understand that struggle), letting your kids know that it’s not within your control and it’s not their fault will go a long way in helping them to understand and cope.
I wish you much luck. xo
Angie // Aug 2, 2007 at 8:40 am
I think honesty is the best way to go. I am a mother of 5 and have some of the same worries and fears that you shared. I’m looking for info that is kid friendly that could maybe tell me how to share bi polar info with my kids. I have a hard time understanding it myself yet I’d like to explain the ups and downs to my kids in a way they could understand. Best of luck to you and your children.
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Kiki // Sep 13, 2007 at 8:50 pm
Thank you, thank you for your honesty and anger. As mothers, being real is important. How else will our kids reconcile their own strengths with their own limitations? Also, when our children experience crisis (everyone does), they will know they can weather the storm. These things happen - life and love go on.
Thordora // Sep 14, 2007 at 4:54 am
I never did thank everyone for their kind words.
So thank you.
So days are good, some are bad, and more and more I’m coming to realize that kids do need to learn that life does indeed happen.
Britt // Feb 27, 2008 at 3:27 am
I hate this illness. I feel it has robbed me of a normal life. Somehow, by the grace of God, I am reasonable mother. But I will never sustain employment, never get out of poverty, never cultivate more than one or two friends, and never have a good marriage. I will become increasingly isolated and lonely as I age. Were it not for my children and my grandchildren, I would have committed suicide long ago. I do not fit in this world. It will be a merciful act when God permits me to die.
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