The hardest part about being crazy is not knowing what you’re doing to your kids.
I was officially diagnosed as Bipolar Type II about one year ago, after years of not knowing what was wrong. Knowing something was going on, but continually blaming my mother’s death. For awhile, we thought ADHD. After having my second daughter, and collapsing into near psychosis post-partum, I once again started talking with a therapist, and eventually referred to a psychologist, who came to the conclusion of Bipolar II within an hour of talking to me. My history presented that clearly.
I’ve been taking medication for a year now, trying different things, trying to find the optimal doses, the right drugs. It’s hell. I hate it. And this weekend, it became very clear that something is not working. I nearly admitted myself for suicidal ideation. It was that bad. I shook in my bed, unable to move, muttering that I wanted to die. I moped around my children, tearing up at the slightest thing. It didn’t help that it was Mother’s Day either.
When my almost 4 year-old asks me why I’m sad and “leakingâ€, I often feel that “Because mommy is sick†doesn’t really cut it. Sick to a small child means a tummy ache, or a sneeze. Not a head that’s foggy with incoherent sadness. One day I’m fine, and bouncing around, and happy, and then the next day, I can barely function. Is this easy for them? I watch inside my head, almost trapped behind the sorrow, and see how scared they are of what I am, of how I am. It sickens me. I can’t control it. I can barely stay afloat through it. I rapid cycle, which means I can go through mood swings in a week, a day, every hour. There is no rhyme or reason to me. And it’s frustrating for everyone.
How do I not affect my children? I worry constantly that I will succumb and take my own life, that they will grow up without a mother, as I have. I struggle to keep my head above it all, to stay normal, to not get too crazy and need to be hospitalized. But it’s hard, harder than anything else I have ever done. It’s trying to remain intact when all your body knows is how to fly apart. It’s a scream stuck in your throat. It’s the tears that won’t fall.
I turn on a dime, and I am mean, and snappish. All my well-mannered talk of negotiating with my children, of being patient falls to the wayside as I snap and scream at them, desperate to maintain some kind of control. All I want to do is curl up alone, responsible for none. But I can’t. I can’t. I’m a mother, and I can’t leave them.
But do I create more harm then good? My daughters cling to me, desperate for my love and attention as I fight the urge to swat them away. Am I creating a safe place for them? Am I capable of doing this? I feel myself being overwhelmed by my illness at times, and it takes front row seats in my life. My children cannot compete. They can sit and watch, but they cannot move past it, not unless I allow them to.
I can’t.
I’m terrified of what I’m making them. I’m terrified that my disorder is hiding my love for them, that it’s hiding it in ways I can never fix. I’m terrified that one, or both of them, will fall within the approximate 30% chance of developing the disorder as well. I’m terrified that I’ll break them because I can’t be solid, because I can’t be the steady influence they need. I’m terrified to become Mommie Dearest.
I live with this every day, good or bad. I live with the fact that I might be doing everything wrong-that I might create children who are scared, emotionally unstable, and cast off from me. I live with the fact that I will never get any better, and that each day is just another day lived with this. I live with the fact that my screaming, unpredictable rages are something my children run from, and likely fear.
I live with this. I live with hate in my heart - hate for this sickness I’ll never get better from. Cancer you survive. Mental illness you live, day in and day out. The first two things I say if asked about me? My mother died when I was 11, and I’m bipolar. It defines me, and I’m at a loss to stop it from defining my daughters as well. I ache for them to not see this, to not need to ask me why I’m sad, to please not cry. I shouldn’t have to tell them it’s not them. But in a world that thinks mental illness isn’t really an illness as much as a crutch, I’ll have to remind them (and myself) of this fact many times. That it’s no one’s fault. That we’re ok.
[tags]mental illness, bipolar II, kids, children, reaction, suicide, depression, living, chronic[/tags]
Photo graciously provided by azlijamil, all rights reserved
13 responses so far ↓
Jackal // May 22, 2007 at 1:15 pm
Heart felt post. Thank you for having the courage to share.
Slouching Mom // May 22, 2007 at 1:34 pm
I applaud you for writing this, for sharing this. And I so wish that I could help. I’m just so sorry. Bipolar disorder is a cruel, cruel master.
If you ever need to vent, and a stranger seems easier than someone close to you, feel free to e-mail me at slouchingmom@comcast.net. I promise to listen.
You are doing the best you can, you know? Try not to beat yourself up over a disorder that you have the great misfortune to suffer from.
Thordora // May 22, 2007 at 2:01 pm
Thanks
Most days are ok-I’m wacky mom (to steal Stu’s post thought) and we bounce through the days and ponder worms and I remind my daughter that she CAN think and walk at the same time.
Other days are dark and cloudy and have no end.
It’s finding my way in it that’s hard-living with the disease AND being a good parent-there’s no real guide, aside from pithy self help books. I worry…I worry about my girls….
But I’m beginning to think I shouldn’t worry quite so much.
Megin Hatch // May 22, 2007 at 3:41 pm
Thordora,
You are brave and strong and I am both saddened for you and thoroughly impressed by who you are.
I love the fact that despite your struggles you are here. You are sharing. You are fighting like mad to control it. You are worried. Being a parent is not an easy task for folks who are in the very best of health. When something so out of our control and completely altering attacks us this way it is something that very few people understand.Thank you for doing a beautiful job in exposing the impacts of Bipolar.
I hope you surround yourself by people who get this, and support you.
-Meg
Karen // May 22, 2007 at 4:53 pm
I was diagnosed with Bipolar II when my daughter was 2. I understand your agony and worries for your children. I’ve been through the very same thinking process. I angst over the inheritability too. My Dr. is head of the bipolar clinic at a major school. He encouraged me greatly by saying that if you end up with a bipolar child that you are improving the gene pool.
You are only a year into this, and that’s not very much time. It takes awhile for your brain to sort of obey, I guess. I’m 7 years in. I thought I would NEVER be able to be a good mother. In fact, I’ve worked so hard to overcome the illness that I’ve actually been able to be a decent mother. Not fabulous, but not ill. We went on to have another baby in spite of all the issues, and it has gone very well.
Medication has enabled me to have a clear enough mind to be able to work on getting healthy. The drugs helped, but I have had to develop a large amount of self-discipline, restraint and stress management to augment them. I’ve been nearly symptom free for a well over a year. If there’s hope for me, then there must be hope for everyone with the malady.
Enjoy your little ones!
Jason Dufair // May 22, 2007 at 5:10 pm
It really is no one’s fault. You’ve come a long way, even since I’ve known you. The future, while perhaps rocky still, is certain to be headed in the right direction for you and the girls and Mogo.
Anna’s dad is severely bipolar. I sure as hell hope none of my kids get it. If they do, they’ll be ok too. We’ll know what it is right off the bat.
Tanya // May 22, 2007 at 5:19 pm
Thanks for writing this.
Although I’m not bipolar, I have ‘regular’ depression. I’m currently off my medication because I’m pregnant and due in a couple of weeks. I’m keen to get back on my meds because I’ve been taking care of my niece and completely losing my mind (yes, some can be blamed on the pregnancy, but really, it’s my frenemy the depression.)
I’m also scared of passing this on to my child, as I’m quite sure I got it from my dad (as did my brother - bipolar, and my sister).
Hang in there, you’re awesome.
Annie // May 22, 2007 at 5:35 pm
((((HUGS)))
You are so brave to share this. I have worked with bipolar students before (both kids and adults) and I learned so much that year about it.
I am also one of those with moderate/severe depression. I too had serious Post-Partum depression after my boy was born and I’m now on meds.
Cherylann // May 23, 2007 at 12:57 am
These words you wrote echoed with me. I’ve been fighting depression for a few years and it’s just become so tough. I too am at a loss for words to tell my daughter when I am “leaking”. I just tell her that mommy is sad about some things and sometimes it’s okay to be sad, but that I’m very lucky to have a little girl that makes me very happy.
It is a comfort to know that I am not the only one struggling out there and worrying about how much damage my illness is causing my child. Thank you for sharing with me.
Finn // May 23, 2007 at 6:33 am
Thanks for sharing. I hope you are encouraged by Tanya’s comment and hang in there.
I, too, suffer from “regular,” chronic depression. I sometimes snap and am impatient, often just from being tired. It’s a burden it seems many of us share.
No parent is perfect, no matter how much we tell ourselves we need to be. Your girls, one day, will understand.
MeMoBaby // May 23, 2007 at 6:34 am
You are incredibly courageous and strong. It is so evident from your writing that you are cognizant and self-aware - two attributes many people lack. Even those of us without diagnosed depression question each day how our actions will affect our kids. By opening up and seeking professional help, you are taking great strides to do what’s best for you and your family and I hope that you’re so proud of that. Thanks so much for sharing such intimate details of your life, fears and parenting with us! Your writing was hugely powerful to me. Stay strong! xoxoxo
Thordora // May 23, 2007 at 7:03 am
Wow. Thanks guys! I guess there’s more of a nerve for this topic than I thought!
Melinda // May 23, 2007 at 8:36 am
I suffered from post-partum depression and clinical depression twice in the last several years. One of my dd was hurt emotionally by it, and for years I have been rebuilding a good relationship with her. The toughest part was being a good example so that her older brothers and sister would treat her as a good (small) person, instead of as an annoyance.
I prayed about it a lot. I have inherited some behaviors from my parents and homelife. The answer I got to my prayers was that this is something she will have to deal with; this is one of her challenges in life, and it is okay. I have challenges; she has challenges. God gives us weakness so that we will turn to him. He helps us gain the strength to overcome and he helps us feel compassion for others who struggle.
I have much greater understanding and love for others who struggle with family relationships, because of my struggles. God bless you!
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