Leave it to the Professionals

Being a person suffering from a severe mental illness, I am extremely empathetic to others with the same plight. My heart breaks for them because I know how hard it can be. The struggle with the disease itself, plus the stigma on top of it is incapacitating, even for the strongest of us. So I try to help, even though I'm not 100% myself.

I offer support by listening and being there. I offer my home; a roof and food. I help brainstorm ideas on how to get better and what's the right path. I show empathy and offer advice. While doing that though, the conversations start going in circles. No progress gets made. The suspicion of the person I'm trying to help is heightened, and suddenly, I've gone from the concerned friend to the scapegoat. For EVERYTHING. I'm verbally attacked and blamed, accused of being responsible for all that has gone wrong. The dynamic of the relationship spins out of control until I'm no longer helping but in need of help myself.

There is only so much someone can do to help someone from experience alone. We need to realize that there is a reason medical professionals go to school for years on end. When advice from experience falls on deaf ears, it's imperative, for your own health, that you take a step back and call in the big guns. Let the professionals do their job and support from a distance.

Baby Steps

Since learning I have bipolar disorder I have come to the reluctant realization that progress doesn’t always occur on my timetable. In my mind I can see how things will be when I’m “all better” but every time I race towards recovery, I inevitably stumble. It’s like trying to run before you know how to crawl.

I force myself to be social and interact with my friends. I go out and immerse myself in their lives and their problems, shoving my own to the back burner and neglecting to address them. I am enraptured by their drama; Cancer, breakups, career changes, drug addictions, etc., and am consumed with the desire to make it better. And while I’m caught up in their stuff, I am almost purposefully ignoring my own issues. While I want to be that supportive, compassionate person, I need to realize the simple fact that I am just not ready. Not strong enough.

As I struggle to give them my all, I am slowly slipping backwards into the unforgiving abyss of depression. My moods darken, daily tasks become insurmountable and I withdraw. Before I hit my rock bottom I remind myself that I wasn’t ready. I assuage the impending guilt with the reassurance that my heart was in the right place; it just wasn’t the right time.

I’ve become aware of the fact that in order to slay the dragon of drama and unhappiness in my friends’ lives, I have to rescue myself completely. I need to be secure on solid ground with no chance of slipping before I offer my hand. That requires baby steps. Patience. I have learned that I need to show myself the same love and understanding that I have generally reserved for others. Master one step/level of recovery at a time before advancing to something else. My heart is strong but my mind is incredibly fragile.  So while progress can be frustrating with its snail’s pace, we owe it to ourselves and our loved ones to get healthy and strong before attempting to be supportive or else we’ll end up in this vicious cycle of repetition. Remember, baby steps.

Drugs, Mental Illness, and Heartbreak

Watching someone spiral into madness is heartbreaking. I have bipolar disorder and mental illness runs in my family. My brother has bipolar disorder too but he self medicates with meth. When he’s clean and things are good, they are so, so good. He’s my best friend and I adore him. He’s creative and artistic. He can sing beautifully and can transform the layout of a room from eh to amazing with just a few tweaks here and there. He has an eye for beauty and is the most charismatic person you’ll ever meet. I love him so much and because of that, he’s breaking my heart. He’s been through a few rehab programs but he continues to use whenever life gets a little difficult. Then the suspicious paranoia sets in and everyone’s a suspect in his mind’s play.

He was living in his car in San Francisco. My 16-year-old daughter has recently moved in with her grandparents so we have a spare room. So I asked him to move in with my husband and me. I was going to “help” him. I was going to show him how to get his medi-cal straightened out, and get him into the Adult Access mental health program. All of that was fine until he went out the other night. He didn’t come back until 2pm the next day and was so unhappy with himself because he used again. He was crying and scared and I spent hours trying to console him and listen to him and just be there for him. Then he started on his conspiracies. The government is spying on him. Our dad (whom has been emotionally and physically abusive in the past) is out to get him and is trying to sabotage all of my brother’s efforts to get clean and have a happy life. My brother was unable to log onto our home wifi and the Bluetooth connection in my car was spotty so I must be in on it too. Suddenly I, in conjunction with our dad, am some mastermind and am out to get him. I “lured” him to my house in order to what? He can’t answer that question. All he knows is that I’m “in on it.”  So he’s leaving because he “can’t trust me” and I’m crying because my heart is breaking for him and my inability to help him.  And this is a glimpse into bipolar disorder at it’s rawest form mixed with drugs.

I don’t know where I went wrong but all I want is my best friend back.

What's Love Got to Do With It?

Relationships are hard. Add to them the element of a mental illness and they become almost impossible. But I’ve learned a lot from my husband, most importantly, that you need to love yourself in order to really be able to love anyone else and for that person to love you back the way you deserve to be loved.

I struggled with my bipolar disorder for a few years before meeting my husband. My relationship before him had done a number on me and tore me down pretty good. But I got diagnosed as having bipolar disorder, started therapy and medications and started the healing process. I don’t think I would’ve ever found “the one” if I hadn’t learned to love myself. People seem to think they need a significant other to make their lives complete. I firmly believe that you have to be complete as a person before you can wholly love someone else. Not only that but self-confidence is attractive. If you are happy with who you are, people notice and are happy to be around you.

My husband and I met at work and hit it off right away. We had only been dating for four months when we decided to move in together. We’ve been together for almost ten years now and have never been happier. He’s kind and supportive and does everything he can to help me with my bipolar disorder. It hasn’t all been smooth sailing. We definitely have our ups and downs. But we seem to balance each other out. We don’t “complete” each other but we compliment each other in ways that I can’t imagine ever happening with anyone else. When I’m at my lowest point of desperation, and I feel like there’s no point in trying, he listens and encourages me to not give up. When I’m having a manic episode, he’s there to remind me that “no, I really don’t need a Home Shopping Network credit card” and then he’s still there to help with the inevitable depression that comes after. And I do the same for him. He does not suffer from a mental illness but I support him in all of his creative endeavors. He mentioned that he’d like to do something with photography one day, so I got him a camera and told him to “do something with it.” Relationships need to be built on mutual respect and support.

Before my marriage I couldn’t have ever been a good partner to anyone because I didn’t place any value on myself. I was undiagnosed and felt like I was going crazy. I was wildly swinging from manic highs and depressive lows with no understanding as to what was happening. I felt worthless, like I was a waste of space. I have since learned that I DO have value. We all do. We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t. Therapy and the right dose of meds has helped me see that I’m not “crazy” and can actually live a very normal life. Having my husband in my life is the best thing that ever happened to me and really helps put the daily struggle into perspective. I feel that a love like ours exists for everyone, you just have to love yourself in order to see it.

Taking Out the Trash

Don't let others’ negativity bring you down. Being diagnosed with and dealing with bi-polar disorder on a daily basis is already a lot to handle. It's hard enough to keep your moods in check and on an even level. It's already difficult to have to take medicine for the rest of your life just to feel "normal." Add to that the stigma and misconceptions about your illness and it's enough to push even the strongest person to the brink. That's why it's so important to take control of what sort of people and level of toxicity you let into your life.

I struggle with my bi-polar disorder everyday. Some days are easier than others but it is a constant struggle. Lately I've been battling the depression portion of my disease. For some reason this time of year always gets me down. The sun sets earlier and rises later, it's gloomy and colorless. Plants are dead, no flowers are to be found and the cold chills my bones. The financial strain of the holidays has me down because I couldn't afford to do for everyone the way I wanted to and I have to fight to keep from burying myself under the warmth of my covers until this ugly part of the year has passed.

On top of all of that, lets add family drama. My older brother has been in and out of prison for issues related to his heroin addiction. He's currently out and clean but started stealing from my dad and step-mom again. Not a good sign. My youngest brother is on about his 10th round with rehab for his meth addiction and couldn't make it to my wedding in October because it would be too emotionally overwhelming for him, however managed to make it to his grandmothers' funeral a couple of months later. Like that wouldn't be too emotionally overwhelming. And then there's my mother. She also suffers from bi-polar disorder or what I mean to say is, we ALL suffer from her bi-polar disorder. She refuses to get on medication because she's convinced that the chemical changes she went through during menopause "cured" her. Lucky for all of us, we get to deal with it.

My mother is currently not talking to me because she feels she wasn't in my, 4 min long, wedding video enough. She feels it was on purpose since it was my cousin who filmed it and my mother hates my uncle so by default, it must have been my cousin's way of getting back at her. I finally had enough of my mom's constant drama, he said she said, ulterior motives behind everything, and conspiracy theories and stood up for my cousin. Now my mother is not speaking to me.

I decided that the only way to keep from falling into a deep depression is to take control of whom I interact with. While I am a huge proponent of family and would normally never suggest cutting them out of your life, if your family is poisonous and brings you down, get rid of them. It's hard enough for me during the winter; I don't need the drama bringing me down. There's always SOMEONE that cares about you and wants to see you succeed. For me it's my husband and daughter. Even if your support group is only one person, it's 1000x better than a pseudo-support group wanting to see you fail. Since removing all of the toxic people from my life and letting go of things from the past so that they no longer hold a power over me, I've found it's much easier to control my mood levels and that I have an inner strength I never knew I had.