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December is, and always has been, a difficult month for Bob. It's tough for him to wake up in the morning, and hard for him to get to sleep at night. He "thinks too much" (in his words), and often finds himself getting sad and teary-eyed. And his schoolwork? Don't even ask.
I've known Bob's mood takes a downturn in late Fall for a few years now. This year, it appearshe recognizes this aspect of his bipolar disorder diagnosis, as well.
There are about as many men with bipolar disorder as there are women. But is living with bipolar disorder essentially the same for men as it is for women? And what about the relationship between race and mental illness? Though the illness is the same, gender and race may shape life with bipolar disorder in profound ways that most of us have never even considered.
If there's anything I know about parenting, it is this: Parenting is the single most humbling experience you can have. You make plans for this child you have helped to "create", and life simply has other things in mind for him or her.
Oh, yes, you are a big part of the child's journey - but in full control? To paraphrase comedienne/author Julia Sweeney's excellent book: God Says, Ha!!
The best-laid plans are only that: plans. Want your kid to be President? (yikes, who would want that?!?!) He or she had better want that too - and have the gifts to go along with the desire.
A few years after Ben was diagnosed with schizophrenia, a friend sent me to a "psychic astrologist" I'll call Zena.Don't laugh. I was freshly unemployed after years of radio broadcasting, still getting used to the changes that my son's schizophrenia had brought to our family, and in the process of looking for an agent and publisher for my book about it, Ben Behind His Voices.
And, also, why not? I had gotten advice from worse places, believe me.
I have a confession to make--I'm not feeling the Christmas Spirit.
This is especially disconcerting because my diagnosis of borderline personality disorder tells me I "should" feel a certain way. I should be happy, generous, loving, especially kind to people I've never met or don't like. I should buy gifts for everyone dear to me. I should single-handedly bail the post office out of bankruptcy by sending Christmas cards.
But I don't, and I don't really care who knows it. To be honest, I feel like Beck-anezer Scrooge--Bah, Humbug! And that's okay.
Recently, someone who was new to the world of bipolar disorder asked me if there was a cure for bipolar disorder or if he had to live like this forever. I had to, of course, tell him there is no cure. I felt like I was telling him his dog was about to die. I felt like knowing this, he might give up.
It would be lovely if the diagnosis of mental illness came with a prescription for recovery that was given to all of us. Diagnosed with bipolar disorder? take this pill, you will be fine. You will be recovered! That would be nice, perfect, what a fantastic dream! Then you wake up. You take your medication. That's the reality.
Recovery is different for all of this: treatment is never the same. Some of us, once diagnosed and treated, experience no symptoms of all. On the flip side, some of us struggle on a day to day basis.
Holiday gift giving is stressful enough, but shopping for the mentally ill presents an additional layer of challenges. Your friends at Funny In The Head are here to assist, with thoughtful tips that will help you navigate these emotionally demanding situations. Just think of us as an online elf-help group.
As a victim of abuse, my abuser held me to an impossible standard: "Be the perfect woman in my eyes."
Whenever I did not think or behave the way his perfect woman did, then I suffered the consequences (abusive anger, name-calling, intimidation, etc.). In his eyes, my goal in life should be to become the woman he wanted me to be...flawless in his eyes. His perfect idealization left no room to be human, let alone myself!
Please...Knock Me Off That Pedestal
He often told me that he held me up on a pedestal, above all other women, and when I fell off that pedestal, he became angry. This explanation was meant to excuse his poor behavior; it was not an apology.
When we commit to a relationship, it comes with an expectation of emotional equivalency. If one person is pressured more than the other (a lot more than just mental health issues there) conflict can arise. Anxiety doesn't typically make for emotional consistency but freedom of expression within relationships can help.
November was National Family Caregivers Month. An estimated 65 million Americans care for a family member. Of course, that is not just for families dealing with mental illness; that statistic accounts for those caring for loved ones with other physical and mental conditions, but also does not account for the number of families who are dealing emotionally with mental illness in a member even if direct care-giving is not a part of the picture right now.
I had the honor of being interviewed on several media outlets last week, and National Family Caregivers month drew to a close. The "month" may be over, but the job goes on. Here is one interview here, from "Reality Check" on Daytime TriCities.
I read this book many years ago, just as I was entering the turmoil of remembering, questioning and doubting myself all the way (as I'd been covertly taught over a lifetime). I happened to mention to my two sisters one day, "This is so strange but I've been diagnosed with PTSD." Both my sisters surprised me by responding, "Me too."
THEN I happened upon an old book manuscript that my now deceased father had written (not published), wherein the protagonist was obviously based upon himself and he rapes his "fiancee," who had my unusual name. Yes, truly.
Then I made myself look at the peculiar memory I always had where he violently threatened me but somehow I had never been able to recall what came before or after the episode. I had to admit that was a bit strange.
The pressures and powers to forget sexual abuse are great, both in family and society. In fact, I've come to the sad conclusion that the vast majority of survivors never really deal with their childhood wounds (a neglect for which there are always repercussions).
To critique an encouragement of people trusting their intuition in such matters is really getting the prescription dangerously wrong.
Thanks!