I originally posted this a couple years ago, on my http://Chelise.Typepad.com blog.
Time has passed, but so much stays the same.
The open letter, remains:
I love the fact that when I start a new entry in this blog, I click on a link that says:" "Begin a new post." That is like the story of my life, this month.
I am literally consumed lately with all the apologies I have to make.
In the meantime, I've written an open letter for all of you who have been following my blog:
An open letter to those who understand mental illness, and those who don’t:
I am starting to feel better. I know this, because I am not so anxious. I still owe 100 apologies and things are backed up and back logged and confused and overdrawn, but I can begin to tackle the mountain of “I am behind” without the crippling anxiety I was experiencing.
I am starting to feel better. I know this because I am awake and lucid and can remember yesterday and know too that school starts for my children next week and I don’t need meds to get through the day without contemplating death or how worthless I am.
I am starting to feel better. I know this, because when I type “contemplating death or how worthless I am”—I cringe inside, because I know that these thoughts do not belong to me, they belong to my illness, and I wish, oh how I wish, my illness would go away, and stay away.
For those of you who understand, you know this already. For those of you don’t understand, all I can do is hope that my words have an impact, and that you will consider them with new eyes:
My illness does have physical ramifications, it is primarily mental and emotional in nature. This disease is hereditary. My mother died from mental illness and that intermingled with the undeniable fact that I am similarly afflicted breaks my heart for myself, my family, and my children, a thousand times over. My mother’s disease went untreated, but mine does not. This brings me some comfort. Treatment, especially now (unlike when my mother was my age) offers an amazing amount of hope.
My particular illness is severe. It is chronic, but not constant. I have months and sometimes (more recently) years of relief in between episodes. Treatment has given me and my family these gifts of lengthy interludes between flare ups. When I am in the middle of a depression, however, it nearly always starts out the same - in this sense: I don't want to admit it. I don't want to accept it. A combination of pride and denial conflict with responsible actions such admitting that there are commitments I will not be able to keep.
I don't care whether you have a cold, a broken bone, or are severely depressed - most of us do not want it to be happening, and then - we don't want to admit that the situation will impact our productivity or reliability. Certainly, I am that way.
Here, in the aforementioned area - I need a great deal of growth, and will aspire to get there. The only way I can think to start is admit right now, that it is true. Many things have fallen through the cracks, and my responsibility was to admit my incapacity before it affected others, and I did not handle that well. I am particularly saddened by the way that my actions have impacted Altered Art Obsession, and Paper Whimsy. Two incredible art groups that have graciously allowed me to participate in art swaps and round robins with other incredible artists, and whose members have had to pick up the pieces I dropped, because I didn't head off the issue at the pass.
My disease requires physical and emotional therapy. I am not required to walk a certain number of steps a day or squeeze an exercise ball., but instead my job is to issue explanations, and apologies, and to figure out how to take responsibility and be forgiving of myself, in equal measure. There is pain and frustration involved in my physical therapy, and I often want to give up. My pain does not resemble that of a muscle or bone coming slowly back to life, the ache and burn of torn ligaments encouraged to act anew. My pain is identical to the gut wrenching, self defeating place we call shame. My job, in physical therapy, is to walk through the shame, communicate and fix what I can—and put enough faith in myself and others to believe that I can back to where I was or even find a better place.
The largest misconception about mental illness, is this: That the person suffering can change it, turn it around, or banish the illness—through strong moral character or a shift in thinking. The only shift in thinking that has ever had a significant impact on my illness was the endless journey (which I still walk) towards ~ “I deserve to be alive.” Those of us born with this disease begin to feel that we are born with and at—a deficit. For over twenty years I believed I had to work harder, be a better person, look prettier, give more, do more, and—in general—be a different person—in order to deserve love, and happiness.
As many decades of therapy, fervant prayer, recovery programs, and few crisis oriented hospitalizations, a medication merryground that finally proved effective, and here I sit. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Still breathing.
A thousand apologies to go - and for those of you who "get it" and to those of you don't, but are willing to give the disease of mental illness your consideration - thank you for reading this, and thank you - for your understanding.
xo - Chel
PS - Here are some places you can learn more:
http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/default.aspx
Sit in reverie, and watch the changing color of the waves that break upon the idle seashore of the mind. - Longfellow
The artwork above and the post below is written by the wonderful artist Dawn Lippincott. As you'll read, Dawn has been dealing with painful mental illness issues since she was a child. I am saddened that she is, at present, not able to fully focus on her own health issues (yes, yes, life gets in the way!) but I am awe inspired by her bravery and honesty, as evidenced in this post. I share it with you now, with Dawn's Permission. - CSH
I have been depressed since I can remember, being a child of the 70's nobody dealt with depression or anxiety back then for kids so I suffered. Many many trips to specialists for stomach tests and blood tests etc all while trying to fit in in the 7th grade!!
I hated school as far back as kindergarten and still have nightmares of my mom leaving me with that "mean" teacher and being so scared I couldn't think! I would hold tight to my mothers leg and had to be pried off of her by the teacher and then missing her the whole day in tears.
I wouldn't go to sleep overs when invited by my friends even in grade school as I was scared my mom would die and I would be alone. My biggest fear is being alone and not having friends or family around for the rest of my life. I have been terrified all my life of something or other everyday!
I have been diagnosed with bi-polar and severe agoraphobia (scared of everything). I suffer from such severe panic I can no longer work and am on social security disabilty.
It scares me to see some of my symptoms in my son who is now 17. I care for my elderly mother who is 81 and had open heart surgery in Dec of last year and I was so scared I would lose her.
I am so tired of worrying and being scared and sad and over emotional and having to make sure my mom doesn't get hurt by falling terrifies me. My hubby is the best thing that ever happened to me! I have been mentally and physically abused by most of my boyfriends and my ex husband! Sometimes i feel like my mind is going to blow up!
I live in a rural town and have to drive 20 miles and bring my mother with if I go to therapy which I need so bad. It is tiring to have to do all i have to just to get out the door taking my mom with me. I have been on meds for 15 yrs and also suffer from fybromyalgia and am on powerful pain meds (pain patch) because of the pain.
I'm tired of my family forgetting I have all these problems myself to deal with and then to have to be a mom , caregiver and wife is extremly hard for me. But I do it and most the time I end up in my bedroom crying to myself and feeling guilty for doing so and for being so selfish. I cry now admitting this all and just getting it out!
Thank you for creating a blog for me to find others "like" me. I have no real friends as I dont trust people and usually the ones i do trust use me. I explain all of this to my hubby and he tries really hard to help me , but he is working over 50 hrs a week and going to school full time (internet) so he can get a better job. I am an artist and have been my whole life. But the work I have ahead of me during the days keeps me so busy and tired that I dont have the time I used to for creating which was the best therapy I found.
I pray every night for God to help someone create a wonder-drug or therapy to help those of us who suffer so. Thank you for listening and I hope this made some sense to you. I know I found myself in alot of the posts on this blog!
Hugs,
Dawn
I have always felt guilty over almost everything I can't do right for someone and the therapist I was seeing at the time told me " don't put on the dress". She explained that guilt is a gift you give yourself and like a dress you choose to wear or not and for me to NOT wear the dress! It's funny but when I feel guilty i always remember that saying :) when I was little I was diagnosed as being extremly shy, go figure!
You can learn more about Dawn and her artwork on her blog, here:
ARTifact & Whimsy
http://artifactandwhimsy.blogspot.com/
At the approach of danger there are always two voices that speak with equal force in the heart of man: one very reasonably tells the man to consider the nature of the danger and the means of avoiding it; the other even more reasonable says that it is too painful and harassing to think of the danger, since it is not a man's power to provide for everything and escape from the general march of events; and that it is therefore better to turn aside from the painful subject till it has come, and to think of what is pleasant. In solitude a man generally yields to the first voice; in society to the second.
LEO TOLSTOY, War and Peace
We've received another question on the blog (a few days ago):
"Thank you for sharing...my question to you now is: how do you express that idea - to a bi-polar man - who neither ackknowledges that he has it nor has long moments of lucidness...It's tough to share emotion with him - my brother. It is hard to be around him, it is hard on my mom. You do give me hope in your words."
This sounds like such a painful situation. In my experience, when someone has an "issue" whether it is drugs, alcohol, or mental illness (not to lump them all together, except for in this example) that person will not be able to begin to address the issue or get help, until they are ready. A rare exception may be a well executed intervention of some kind, but those must be handled by professionals and to be honest - are very expensive and they don't have a foolproof efficacy rate.
So, if you brother is in denial about his illness, or in denial about adequately treating his illness, then your first job is to accept this about him.
If you find that his disease is impacting you, your mother, other loved ones - then, in short - there is some dysfunctional co-dependency going on.
Let's stop here for a moment. Being part of a co-dependent relationship with family or loved one is not a judgment. It's sort of a sad state of affairs when it comes to human nature, but by default human beings learn to live with and around addiction and illnesses. A basic definition of co-dependency is this:
"suffering and/or dysfunction that is associated with or results from focusing on the needs and behavior of others."
In bringing this up in relation to your situation, I am suggesting that your suffering and dysfunction comes from trying to figure out how to express things to your brother that he is not willing to accept, as well as your being impacted by behaviors of his that have a negative impact on you.
So, I don't have the answer you may be looking for. The stigma and elements of many mental diseases create the tragic reality that many sufferers are unwilling to accept a diagnosis and receive help.
But, you can help yourself.
There are support group for the friends and loved ones of the mentally ill, everywhere. You are NOT alone. There are ways of building your own self esteem and happiness and acceptance, despite whether or not your brother chooses to get help.
Start with these links - and take care of yourself. You deserve it.
I have found the Paradox, that if you love until it hurts, that there can be no more hurt, but only love. - Mother Theresa
I found this vintage greeting cards as I was going through stuff to create ZNE ZaLotta packages with. (http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5503640) - and I decided that I just had to keep it, it such a sweet piece of ephemera. They really knew how to make holiday greetings in 1921. Ah well. That was 88 years ago. Life goes on...
I posted this piece today, in response to a particularly touching and painful comment we received on the blog a couple of days ago. Here is the content:
"I can only speak to bipolar disorder from the standpoint of being the parent of a bipolar (now adult) child. I spend half of my life estranged from her, because the tiniest imagined slight sets her off when she is going into her depressed state. I can tell her I love her 356 days a year, but if I forget even once, or neglect to verbally validate her, she will go off into a mad mother-bashing episode that can go on for hours, weeks or even years. I live my life in fear of her...in fear that she will harm herself...in fear that she will harm her children...in fear that she will harm me or my other two children. I want her to know that I love her deeply, but to her, this seems to mean that I can love ONLY her, because she takes any attention that is given to her siblings or their children as personal slights against her. Everything is measured....Did so-and-so get more than I...does she love so-and-so more than she loves me. She pleas for equality, but what she actually wants is exclusivity. She will be 40 yrs. old on her next birthday and I am exhausted. I do love her. I love her with all my heart, but when she goes into her depressive states, she zeros in on me and goes online and tells people that I am evil, that I beat her, that I was a horrible mother. Then, when she is manic, she puts me on a pedestal and I am perfect in every way and can do no wrong. Both positions are exhausting ones to hold . I just want to be Mom.....I want to be able to be tired or angry or sad just like everyone else. Sometimes I feel like a performing seal or someone who must walk on egg shells all the time.
Phew! What a painful post. Having been raised by a mentally ill parent - although the circumstances are different, there is an affinity in that I know very well that one family members' illness will impact all members of the family.
There is so much written in the post above, and so many difficulties in this situation, I am hesitant to venture a response. First and foremost because of my constant disclaimer. I am not a professional, and I am also not bi-polar.
That being said, here is what I have to offer: One of my diagnosis' is Generalized Anxiety Disorder. Bi-Polar persons may or may not experience anxiety in the same way that I do, but often they have multiple diagnosis (with both disorders) or their manic and/or depressive cycles mimic extreme anxiety in many ways.
Before I was diagnosed - no - wait - I should say before I believed my diagnosis, I didn't walk around thinking I was a timebomb in terms of mental illness, just waiting to explode. Nope, for the majority of my twenties, I thought that all of my anxiety was caused by other people. If my husband just hadn't... If my friend had only... If my boss were more appreciative... etc.
This was a terrible way to live, standing with one foot in the "It's all their fault' square, and with the other in the "It's all my fault" square. Eventually (namely, when my mother committed suicide) I began to accept the possibility that mental illnesses were a disease, and potentially fatal ones at that. This, in fact was the first time I became open to the possibility of taking meds, and open to considering, during psychotherapy - that maybe all those things making me anxious were in fact part of my anxiety disorder, and NOT anyone's fault, and not even issues that had to be resolved.
Let me tell you, this was a shocking revolution. I offer this story because your post makes me wonder if your daughter is aware that she is ill? Has she been diagnosed by a professional, or would she be willing to do that? Is she taking any medication? I ask only, because - (based only on your view of events), it does not sound like she is getting the treatment she needs.
Phew. (Again.) Ok, other than to say how sorry I am to read about your pain, I am going to move away from your daughter right now, and focus on your specific question.
"So this is my question. How does a parent display love to a bi-polar person/child/adult in a way that it can be felt and accepted as genuine?"
The truth of course is that I don't know the right or exact answer to your specific question. I suspect that if there were a stock and proper answer, none of us would deal with these painful issues.
So here is my best stab at an answer:
Just love her.
Love your daughter and accept your daughter in as genuine way as possible.
Let go of her response. This suggestion is so much easier said than done, but, until or unless she is willing to go to family therapy of some kind - you are likely to continue getting the ungracious responses you have been receiving thus far. Let go of her response, and love her anyway.
Love her when she suggests that you love your other children more.
Love her when YOU think you might love your children more.
Love her when she is happy and fully functioning.
Love her when she is angry and full of rage.
Your daughter is an adult who is capable of making her own choices about how her disease plays out in her life. These choices may not sit well with you, but they belong to her - not you.
If you are ever truly concerned for her children, call a support line, a crisis line, or the police. Let your daughter get angry, rageful, or confused. Perhaps she will feel betrayed.
Love her anyway.
Phew (for the third time) Ok, the small print: None of the above will be easy or come naturally. Your email speaks of numerous concerns and issues. You can't force your daughter to get help, but you can help for yourself.
Here is a good place to start:
http://www.nami.org/template.cfm?section=Your_Local_Nami
And know, I wish you the very best of luck and my heart goes out to your daughter and grandchildren too.
xoxo - Chel
![National Institute for Mental Health](<a href="http://www.nimh.nih.gov/"><img src="http://i299.photobucket.com/albums/mm309/zneart/suicide20prevention-1.jpg"></a>){kind=link}
So this is my question. How does a parent display love to a bi-polar person/child/adult in a way that it can be felt and accepted as genuine?"