Living Bipolar (19 page)

I felt this way for a really, really long time. Honestly, I remember thinking why her and not my dad, because I wasn't close to my dad at all. But my Mom is not the only one who has Bipolar in my family. I have another Aunt who has the illness as well. However, I never saw this other Aunt throughout my childhood. Growing up I felt very alone. I'm an only child, and therefore,
I felt very abandoned and sad growing up because something was different, and something was missing from my life
. I didn't have the Mom and Dad that I saw other children have, and my Mom wasn't normal.

There was a time period when I was a teenager when we lived out of my grandmother’s house and my Mom lived upstairs. I think this was probably the worst time for me because one day out of nowhere she came down stairs and she was trying to harm herself. My Mom tried to stab herself in the chest. This was very scary and I had probably only seen her go to one other mental institution prior to this event. It was almost like my Mom was crying out for help by stabbing herself, and when she stabbed herself, she admitted she needed help. Leading up to this I don't think she had been taking medication for a few years, and I think this incident was the worst I had ever seen her, because until then she had never before tried to harm herself, or harm other anybody else.

My grandmother was very abusive to my Mom when she lived there, and my grandmother didn't understand why my Mom was sick either. Rather she simply thought that my Mom was acting the way she was on purpose. My grandmother didn’t understand the illness, she would call my Mom stupid, and she would say what's wrong with you! The more my grandmother would do this, the more my Mom pulled away from her, and my Mom would do the opposite of what she was supposed to do, and she wouldn't take her medication. I recall hating everybody in my family, because everyone in the family was against my Mom. But the incident where my Mom stabbed herself was the worst I ever saw her. When she came downstairs, it was horrific, and she was crying out for help and she had given up. For me this was very sad to watch.

When my Mom is off of medication she thinks nobody loves her, she will talk to herself, and the Bipolar illness tells her she's okay. My Mom is very smart and when she has to talk to a police officer, or someone working in the hospital, she's capable of behaving very normal. She's a very intelligent woman. But despite her intelligence the Bipolar illness simply tells her she doesn't need any medication. And when she is not taking anything she's not in touch with reality.

My Mom would always get on medication for a while, but I guess the Bipolar illness told her she didn't need it anymore. I don't think she takes medication today, and I don’t think that she is around my family at all still to this day. She basically lives in shelters I guess. And she's been doing this, living in shelters, for at least the past seven years. I know she's been in and out of hospitals and jails, and when she is in these places they might give her medication, but I don’t know for certain. I know it's been a long time since she's been on medication for any significant amount of time. When she's not on any type of medication she doesn't want anything to do with anyone. Especially not her family because she thinks her family is out to get her.

I have made several times to find my mom, but I can’t find her. It's very scary for me, and I'm afraid that one day I'll get that phone call that she’s dead, because I don't know what the Bipolar illness will tell her to do. During this seven-year period, my mom has been going in and out of shelters and she, may have been on some medication but not for any length of time to be helpful. My Mom might show up here and there, but the only way my family has seen her is if she has been in jail, or if they receive a letter that she has been in hospital. Sometimes she will show up in downtown City Hall where one of my family members will run into her. They'll try to get her to come home, and get her something to eat, but then my Mom will just disappear; my Mom will figure out a way to disappear.

I used to blame myself for a long time for my mom’s behavior. In the past, I can honestly say I didn't understand what she was going through at all. I was kind of angry at her in the past because I thought she knew better. Or maybe I thought I knew better because I didn't understand. It wasn't until about four or five years ago that I had the realization that my Mom has an illness, and accepted that it's a mental disorder.

I no longer blame myself; I understand the situation a bit more.
Today I understand that it's an illness, a disease. To know my Mom is out there right now though, I guess, I guess I just put it in the back of my head and pray about it. I wish I could fix it but I know I can't. I have to say that even though I didn't want to be like my Mom, ultimately I kind of wanted to be like my Mom.

To help me deal with all these issues I'm in therapy, and I've been in therapy on and off for a least four years
.
I've learned in therapy that Bipolar is an illness, which is helpful, because for a long time I thought my Mom being sick was my fault
. I realize today that it isn't my fault and that it's nobody's fault. Rather, it's an illness like any other illness. I can accept it today.
I can accept her, I can accept where I'm at, and I can accept all people with a mental illness.
Before I couldn't share openly about my Mom and her illness, and I would avoid discussing it simply explaining she's sick. But today I can talk about my Mom because I understand the situation more.

My own disease of alcoholism has helped me understand my Mom’s sickness more. I know that my Mom's Bipolar illness is one of progression, and I know that it's an illness which if you don't take care of it gets worse. I’ve seen her in the very beginning of her illness in the early stages, and I’ve also seen her progress and get worse as she has gone through the different stages. I know that this progression happens with people of alcoholism, and I know that with people who are Bipolar if it's left untreated it gets worse.
Furthermore, I understand that people who are Bipolar need counseling, medication, and therapy to live a healthy life
. At the same time I recognize that everybody is different and there are different levels. If you don't treat the Bipolar illness it gets worse. It's like any other untreated illness.

The biggest help for me I think has come from attending Alcoholics Anonymous meetings and my support group of friends. It's funny but most of the people that I associate with, the people who are closet to me are either Bipolar, or they have some other mental illness. My mom's illness helps me better understand them.

I believe that being a child of a Bipolar person has affected my personal relationships, in that, for a long time I was shy and I remained very isolated from others. I used to not be able to share about anything, even how I was feeling with other people.
But I've been able to improve relationships in my life now by being more understanding and being open in my relationships.

I would tell other people in similar situation to mine that there is hope.
The main way been able to live my life is by talking about it, and sharing it with someone else, whether it’s with a therapist or with other people
. I think at one point I was ashamed of my Mom's Bipolar illness but today I'm no longer ashamed of it, and I'm no longer ashamed of me. I have my own issues but I can accept who I am today. I would tell other children of Bipolar parents like me that it's okay. It's okay.

The advice I offer is to learn about the Bipolar illness and to talk about it. Read about it, learn about it, and become educated.
I think that if you are close to someone who has the Bipolar illness that you will inevitably learn about them, and the illness, because you're there and you are going to see it.
Bottom line though is you have to have experience with it to know how to remedy it and deal with a loved one who is Bipolar
.
I think a therapist helps, but I think someone who has seen it and lived with it is the best way to get help with understanding the illness
. People with experience are the best way to become educated

People who have experience are the most important because they know the truth.
Someone with experience of going through a similar situation helps you understand it better, because people with experience allow you to see another side with it and can offer you greater insight. But someone who doesn’t have experience can philosophize all they want, or say I think this, but nothing beats hand on experience.
If you have experience you can pass along what you've learned and you can trust that your experience is true.

Right now I accept I have no control over my Mom’s illness and I have no control over what she does.
I'm powerless over it and all I can do about it is pray about it and work on myself, work on making my world better.
I go through waves of feelings, and sometimes I can just say she's okay because God put her here and my Mom is here for a reason. I love my Mom to death and I just pray for her, but there are times when I can be in self-pity and wish I could do more to find her, or to fix her, or wish that I can get in contact with her, and help her make some sense, and say something to her that maybe will click in so she will get back on her medication. Sometimes I just want her to be with me here, and I wish I could figure out a way to take care of her, but that makes me afraid too, because what if she decides not to take her medication? What if she disappears again?

I go through spurts. I experience sad times, and depression, because I wish I could do more. But I don't know what else to do. I go through waves of emotion. Sometimes I get angry. Sometimes I get a little sad, and a little envious of people who do have a normal Mom.
But for the most part I must turn the whole situation over to God and just pray about it
.
I turn it over to God by realizing it's beyond my control, and I have no control over the situation.

I just accept the fact that the situation is what it is’ and whatever's going to be is going to be. It's not up to me. I don't have that power to change the situation. I don't have a magic wand to change it; and for today I don't have the ability to change how things are. Who knows, she could be in a shelter living quite fine, but I don't know. So I just accept it.

My life is not always happy, but I don't like that word either. I don't like that word happy because I live my life the best I can on a daily basis,
and all I can do is become a better version of who I am.
I can only be the best person that I can be of my capacity. Everybody has different levels of what is best for them. The best thing that I can do is accept me and except everyone else's level of who they are.
I simply live my life and become a better version of me. This is my main goal
. I become a better version of me by working on myself in different areas by being in therapy, having a support group, helping others, and doing what's in front of me at that moment.

And I struggle with this sometimes.
Being a better version of me is whatever it is for that day, not what somebody else wants me to be or what I envy in somebody else. Becoming a better version of me is what's in front of me at that moment and what's good for me
.

Also, I meditate and I meditate in the form of taking a time out, and going to a quiet and happy place, whether it's lying out on the beach, or lying in my favorite spot in the inner coastal area, and it's just me, no phone and no anything.
Just enjoying the earth, the sun, or the trees or whatever it is
.

I write which is very therapeutic for me
. I've been doing a lot more writing lately. I write about how I'm feeling or how my day went or what happened in the day. I write about what I did in the day to help somebody else, such as, listening to somebody else, because I'm not a good listener at times.

But the hope is that you can't say it's always going to be okay, but I live my life to the best of my ability and that's where I’m at. That's the hope:

To live your life to the best of your ability.

John watched his best friend from childhood changed from loving and friendly, to erratic and out of control. John’s friend eventually became so manic that he threatened to kill him. John then made the most difficult decision in his life. He sent his best friend to jail to avoid his friend from hurting himself or other people.

Three years later John developed a new friendship with the person he spent his entire childhood with.

A Friend’s Perspective
John’s Story

Starting out we were best friends from birth. We live down the street from each other so Landon was my first memory I have of another person aside from my family. The earliest memory I have of him was the age 5, and Landon's house was the first house I remember going to. Both of our parents have told us they were friends during pregnancy and after birth. Landon and I always played during our entire childhood. We lived 1500 feet from each other, and it didn't matter what was going on we could just walk to each other's house. We were in school together until the age of 12, so not only were we together in school but during the summer we were together as well.

In July of 1993, Landon was hit by a car. Following the accident I noticed changes for the first time in Landon. There was a total reconstruction of his mind and body. Landon didn't remember anything, even simple things, for instance, such as he didn't remember why you need to go to sleep, and other things of that nature.

After Landon was in a coma for four days, there were some changes in him, but I kind of expected there would be different things about him, which were not going to be the old Landon I remembered from childhood. Examples would be highs and lows in his mood. Some days Landon was really upset. Sometimes Landon would say things to me which I just simply shook off citing maybe that's a side effect of the car accident which will last for the rest of his life. Certain aspects about his personality I learned to accept. But I never encountered situations after the car accident in high school where I thought I didn’t like Landon, and I certainly never thought, or believed, I don't think I can be around him any longer.