Communication...yeah right.

I have to apologize to my dear sister for finding out about our Grandmother through a posting...

In the future, if I am uncertain if she knows something or not--I will be contacting her right away to be sure. I feel like a total heel.

We do lack good communication in our family...and it seems to only have gotten worse instead of better.

I was thinking about communication this morning too.

When I was a CNA/Telemetry Technician at Sacred Heart Hospital, there were two consecutive summers where my mother was in the hospital for her mental illness. Now, I have never been one to hide the fact that my mom has Bipolar Disorder, or the fact that she spent much of my life in the hospital. It is a fact of my life that is relatively normal to ME.

During my time at Sacred Heart, my son was also diagnosed with the disorder. I was in the process of being diagnosed (though deep down I KNEW...I just had great difficulty accepting it myself). I was very vocal, and had many others dealing with a variety of mental health issues come to me for advice (about their child, parent, or even themselves). I was told several times that they were grateful that someone else knew what they were experiencing, and they appreciated my candor on the issues.

Quite frankly, Eau Claire is a difficult place to maneuver the mental health system. I suspect it is the same in most places, but since we have been involved with it (me, my whole life) I knew a few tricks and knew the people and places to go to get help. At least, at the time I did--with health care changing the way mental illness is treated (minimally, sad to say), I no longer feel like I know the ropes. But, I digress.

There was one other CNA/Telemetry Technician I worked with that must not have appreciated my openness about what was going on because one day she looked me square in the eye and told me that I had better stop discussing it all together. Of course, I was taken aback, because no one had ever said this to me before. I had never been stigmatized until this very moment. It felt like a slap in the face and for a moment I didn't know what to say to this woman. I did finally stand up and tell her I didn't care what anyone thought. I really still don't.

My point is--the day we start sweeping it all under the rug is the day things start going backwards for families like mine, and for people like me. I know I am not the only one out there in this boat. In fact, a friend from high school just contacted me to say that he, too, has Bipolar Disorder...so does his mother, and his son. Wow, someone in the same position as me. It makes you feel a little more normal, knowing there are others out there.

We are not all lunatics. There are varying degrees of all mental health disorders. My mom? I always think of her situation as the worst case scenario...in and out of hospitals since I was just days old. But really, hers is NOT the worst case. She has had some quality of life and some very normal days. I guess my worry lies in the fact that she has the potential to be the very worst case scenario.

My fear of her being in the worst case scenario is what lead me to turn away from the diagnosis and try to pretend that I was not Bipolar. I refused to believe it. Even though the signs were all there, and had been since I was a senior in high school...the fact that no one ever picked up on it pretty much blows my mind. Perhaps no one wanted to see. I think that is more it than anything else.

Fast forward to now...

I am over five years out since my own meltdown and overdose. The day that Dr. Weggel looked me in the eye after that fiasco and asked me if I "had any doubt now that I was bipolar" and I had to answer "no" was the wake up call.

I constantly assess my mood. I recognize the wax and wane. I do try to go on medication when I feel I need it, though I do struggle with remembering to take it and subsequently stay un-medicated. I have had excellent cognitive and behavioral therapy. I do try not to bite off more than I can chew, even though sometimes I do take on too much--I realize it and adjust accordingly.

This first semester in school is a victory for me. I proved to myself that I can do it. Because of my disorder, and years of being out of control--I was certain I would once again crash and burn. It doesn't have to be that way!!

As for my son--he is very in tune with his moods as well. Even more than I am. It gives me hope that there is a normal life possible for us.

My mom has always talked about writing a book from her perspective. Sadly, I doubt it will ever happen. That said, I have also thought that I should put it all down and share it with the world in hopes that one other person or family could feel a little less alone. But, really...who knows if I will ever do that.

Gotta take it day by day. And when the going gets tough: hour by hour, or minute by minute. Whatever it takes to make it through the rough times. Because there are always going to be rough times. That's life.

I think that's life for everyone.

Thank God there are good moments and beauty in the world too, for balance.

Balance is good.

Namaste.