To the tribe whose member was suicidal

I'm part of a tribe I never thought I'd be in.

When my daughter was diagnosed with a speech disability, my world was turned upside down.  Struggling through the diagnosis and fight for services was demoralizing and exhausting.  Not to mention the emotional, financial, and marital strain that no one ever talks about. 

Having a child brings challenges, but having a child with special needs magnifies challenges. I remember feeling so alone.  I remember feeling like no one understood my life but me and it was an emotionally torturing place to be in. 

I found a tribe I never knew existed. 

I easily connected via a social media platform with others who had children who shared my same diagnosis.  Through these connections I was inspired to coordinate a walk for my child and others who shared her same diagnosis.  A team was formed of parents who shared the same vision, and a network....or tribe....was formed that was strong and unbreakable. 

I found a tribe I never knew we needed.

The purpose of the tribe was to spread awareness and celebrate our children who shared the same diagnosis.  Organized fundraising events and happy hours were scheduled and bonds were made.  There is an immediate and indescribable connection when a human meets another human going through the same thing and as C.S. Lewis describes it, "You too? I thought I was the only one." 

After some time a member of the tribe was afflicted with mental illness in the form of anxiety and depression..  The tribe I knew was there to support her son, suddenly rose up and supported HER. 

Find your tribe and love them hard.

A mom in our tribe had anxiety and depression.  It was something some of us knew, but never actually experienced.  This year, anxiety and depression came back knocking on this mom's door, and her tribe, her son's disability tribe rallied around her.  Cards and gift cards were sent.  Phone calls and texts were made since we now know that people in the throws of depression won't reach out. More texts were sent.  Support was poured out.  Love enveloped her son with special needs and a beauty and kindness many people fail to see in the world was uncovered.  Uncovered, right here in a tribe that was formed outside of mental illness.

Mental illness needs a tribe. 

Mental illness is as real as cancer.  It can be sneaky, it can be stealth, and IT IS DEADLY. Mental illness kills.  The brain lies to a person with mental illness.  Mental illness inflicts pain and ill information on the afflicted.  A tribe can counteract that lie.  A tribe can rally and save the person suffering from themselves. Stigma is the enemy of mental illness. Acceptance, understanding, and a TRIBE of loved ones is the cure.

A life was saved this month.  A life who was valued by an entire tribe who reached out. 

Reach out.  

Don't judge.

Just love. 

Save a life.

I miss you

"Why do you love me and what can I do to keep this?" my husband asked one day when I was feeling enraptured and in love.  Not knowing how to respond, I responded simply, "you're you and I love YOU."

Your face got a serious tone and you commented that you are always you but these days I seemed to be particulary in love and you wanted to know why so you could replicate them.  I really didn't have an answer except to say,

"I love you.  I don't love depression or mania.  I'm not in love with them.  But I have an always will be in love with the real Cody.

"That doesn't make me feel better," was your reply.

I didn't know what else to say.  I wasn't trying to make you feel bad, but at the same time depressed Cody is apathetic and manic Cody is mean......why would  like them?

Mania, book dedication, and true love

About a month and a half after a brief marital spat, my hsuband with bipolar 1 ended up in the hospital.  Ironically, a month and a half ago I did not think he was sick, but my daughter was beside herself with anxiety.  I wrote about explaining to her that he was just mad and not sick, but turns out she was right, and I was wrong.

My daughter has special needs arising from a genetic mutation called BCL11A.  She may struggle with socially accepted forms of learning, but emotional intelligence is her superpower. She knew before all of us.

Around this time, I published a book I wrote.  It was the story of my daughter overcoming her speech disability, a disability in which I happen to now specialize.  My husband encouraged me to write a book, and I did during depressive episodes of his spanning the course of 3 years. In those three years, he also suffered 4 manic/psychotic episodes.  Signs of mania can include anger and irritability.  I know this because I've been to counseling and read books.  My daughter, who has no training knew it before all of us.

"He yelled at you, his brain is sick!" she told me frantically.  I assured her he was just mad at me and not to worry.  People get mad and it's okay.  It doesn't mean he's sick.  She wouldn't have it.  "He yells at you when he's sick mommy!" she would press.  I validated that he does yell at me when he's sick, but that he's not sick and he was just mad.  Turns out she was right and I was wrong.

During this particular episode he set off on a Friday afternoon.  He had been at Denny's since 2 AM that morning and then went to work early.  We were on Fall break, but usually Fridays were his day to get the kids to school since I work early.  He had me drop them off at work and then he took them to my parents house. They reported he was overly talkative and my mom shared he had stared at her but was staring through her.  I know now, he was likely experiencing hallucinations.

From there he left and returned to work but left at lunch to "work from home" and ended up at a Dodge dealership where he was contemplating buying a new truck. The salesman, my friend, reported he was cool and calm and nothing seemed out of the ordinary, except that he was talking about my new book and how proud he was.

That night he was gone.  He had driven up to Wyoming, ditched my parent's loaner car on the side of the road and was walking to only God knows where.  He lost the car keys, his debit card, and anything else on his person.......except my book.

I only found that out when he was about 11 days into an inpatient stay.  "I'm reading your book and I can hear your voice in the words," he said to me. Incredulous I exclaimed, "You have my book???"  How?? You lost everything on your person but you have my book??"

"I'm so proud of you, Laura," was his reply.  I wept because not even my own parents or family members bought or read the book yet.  I texted a friend who knew the situation and her reply was, "Wow, you really did dedicate it to the right person."

Hope for the future and more hurt feelings

"I've had enough.  Get a big boy job by the time the kids go to school or I'm out."

Those are fighting words, but I wasn't interested in a fight.  They were truthful words.  I truly had had ENOUGH.

Enough of being the sole provider.

Enough of being the only worried where money was going to come from.

Enough of feeling completely overwhelmed.

Enough of his sickness ruling our household.

ENOUGH

I truly meant it too.

Right before schools started in August 2019, he got an engineering job.

I thought I could literally feel a ton of bricks sliding off of my shoulders.

It feels different this time too. It feels like the time before he enjoyed 10 years of stability free from  hospitalizations.  It feels like that is on the horizon again.  I can literally see the glimmer of dawn. I haven't see that in at least three years.  We have had "seasons" of wellness, but sadly they never felt built to last.

This time may be different.  Only tell though will tell.

Tonight  we were fighting over his 40th birthday.  I brought up he should do something special, but was disappointed to learn his "something special" had no plans with us in it. I was sad, but if it's what he wanted I still wanted him to do it.  So many people celebrate having no kids around.  I love my alone time don't get me wrong....but I don't need or want an entire vacation away from my kids.  He says I misunderstood. He was only talking about a day trip with some guys in the backcountry snowboarding.  I could have misunderstood.  Maybe he did want a trip with his family.  Either way....

Ashlynn started crying.  Both kids were watching.  There they were, standing in the middle looking at Cody while we were fighting.  When he went outside, Jace retreated to his room to make cards for us, and Ashlynn started crying.  She started talking about when daddy's brain gets sick.  I told her he wasn't sick, just angry, but she kept going about how he yells when he's sick.

I was struck in that moment how acutely aware they are too of signs.  Are they waiting for the other shoe to drop?  Do they live with anxiety?  I told her daddy does yell when he's sick but right now he's not mad.  She insisted about hospital stays and doctors until I told her,

"Ashlynn, do you trust me?"

She shook her head yes, so I pressed on.

"I have never lied to you.  If daddy is sick, I tell you he's sick.  Right now I am telling you that he is just mad.  He's not sick ok, but if he were sick, I promise I would tell you."

She seemed okay with this answer and hugged me.

Bipolar is a family affair.

Edited to add - Ashlynn was right.  She predicted his impending episode only a short month later on October 18th of 2019.  https://lovingageniusmind.blogspot.com/2019/10/mania-book-dedication-and-true-love.html

What goes up, must come down.

"Was Cody okay today?  I'm only asking because Dennis was wondering," said my sister on Father's Day.

I always laugh and internal, incredulous laugh.  "No," I answered.  "He's not okay.  He has bipolar disorder, remember?"

"Well, but is he OK?" she pressed.

This Mother's Day, 2018, was probably the worst Mother's day to date.  I feel like I take on a lot of responsibility and I'm happy to do it and try my best not to complain for 364 days a year.  I work 12 hour days and then come home, eat dinner, and do the dishes that were left in the sink I guess for me to clean.   On my days off I clean the house, do the laundry, and try my best to make it so we don't live in a pig sty. To be honest, my house makes me sick.  I was fine with having this old ranch style house when we first were married; but now I work my butt off for people who all have bigger and nicer houses than me.  It's stupid really.  Eckhard Tolle would tell us it's "Identification with Form," so in my pity-party moments, I remind myself of that.  Then I think of Oprah.  She once said she knew she had made it when she would open a linen closet that was full of linens from top to bottom.

A three-story house is my linen closet.  Isn't that silly?

Anyway, this Mother's Day found Cody so manic he was probably almost hospitalized.  I was blamed for not planning enough for having people over (even though I told him two weeks in advance AND what the menu was).  I was yelled at for not sending a text of menu items (that I sent).  I was yelled at for his lack of time to plan (when I was at work all day).  When Mother's Day Eve fell on my house, I actually told Cody what I wanted for Mother's Day was for him just not to be there.  I meant it sincerely.  It's one thing to not feel appreciated.  It's quite the other to be verbally and emotionally abused on that day.

All in all, Cody did manage to pull of a decent Mother's Day.  Despite being manic as shit, he was super remorseful and did his best to grill and make me feel appreciated.  He was a great host, talkative, funny, and full of energy.  He entertained the guests, and though I appreciated the effort,  bipolar won this Mother's Day.  I know Cody didn't want bipolar to win either, but it did and that's just the way life goes.  He didn't ask for bipolar either.  It wasn't his fault.

Fast forward a little over a month to Father's Day and I found it hard to imagine that it was only ONE month ago I thought Cody had a one way ticket to the hospital.  He crashed hard from his mania and was now sleeping in, taking naps, and finding it hard to function.  He was clearly now in a depressive cycle.  On Father's Day he was aloof and withdrawn.  Tied to his phone or isolating away from people and sitting in the backyard, he was completely opposite of the Cody who was present for Mother's Day.  It was no wonder my sister asked if he was okay, but honestly the answer is Cody is never really okay.

I told my sister it was nothing more of "What goes up, must come down."  There is only so long any human can sustain little sleep and superhuman energy.  Bipolar or not, everyone is still a person and so Cody crashed into depression.

So far, it hasn't been the total apathetic and lack of awareness depression that last summer brought. Though he seems to have awareness, motivating himself still seems hard and he loses focus and motivation easily.  He sits in the basement in the dark playing video games or watching movies.  Quite the change from the entire Spring where he never touched the basement and spent every moment talking my ear off and networking with clients.

My mom came over today and asked me how I was.  I told her Cody was approved for disability and it would kick in starting in July.  I have never been happier.  I remember once someone telling me their youngish husband was on disability and I looked at the with pity because I thought it was so sad someone so young had given up.  I don't see Cody as giving up, but he simply cannot function as a 40 hour work horse, so I weeped tears of joy when I was alone.  Finally some respite.  Being the sole provider and bill payer is extremely stressful.  I repeat a mantra to myself daily that I can do hard things.  I am strong, but MAN I hope this helps even a little.

Mother's Day was happy because of YOU TWO, my whole heart.

Family is everything.  The strength of strong women is deep in this family

Ringing in 2018

It is New Year's Day and the year is 2018.  As I toasted Cody last night, I asked him what is resolution was, and his only reply was to "stay healthy."

Bipolar disorder sucks.  I would be lying to say it wasn't my prayer every night and morning.  I write it in church on the prayer dedications, and ask my family to do the same.  The health of my husband, my children's dad, is my top priority.  It is the element in our lives that affects our lives the most; and that is considering we have a child with a significant developmental delay/disability.

There is no doubt in my mind we would not be here without faith in God.  Cody's faith has been shaky, but mind has never been.  I also know we have an army praying for us.  Cody's family is Mormon and mine is Catholic, and all the people who pray for us are in my mind, the sole reason our marriage has made it in spite of a daughter with special needs and my husband with a severe mental disability.

After 2 manic/pyschotic episodes in the past two years, I want to try and stop waiting for the other shoe to drop.  I just want to enjoy the present moment.  Love my husband while he is well.  Enjoy this moment for what it is.  Tomorrow is never guaranteed.  I want to be the best mom to my kids.  I want them to grow up in a home where their parents were together.

This 2018, I pray for a year of wellness. We take for granted so much our  health until we don't have it, and regardless of wealth, career, or social status, our lives our nothing without our health.

Dear Lord I pray that 2018 be a year of health for my family.  For my husband, my daughter, my son, and for myself.  This I pray,

The season of wellness

Today is December 9th, 2017.  What seems like an eternal 7 months ago, you were taken from me and the kids. Bipolar clinched it's grip on you and just like that, you were gone.

First in the hospital and then a medication induced zombie, you have been lost to us.  I told many people I lived and traveled with a cardboard cutout of you.  Physically present but emotionally absent, we would try to engage you but would be met with apathy.

Finally we found a psychiatrist who adjusted your medication and within days that cardboard cutout of you started to come alive again.  Today you are back.

Looking at you tonight I marveled that you were talking to me, listening to me, responding to me...and laughing! I stared incredulously that the man I married was back.  My mind started to wander.  I started to feel anxious.  I began to pray silently in my head,
"Please stay for awhile.  Don't leave again.  Please, please, please let him stay well and achieve stability again.  Please God, please.

"Why are you acting so weird?” he said and interrupted my train of thought.

Even if I tried to explain it, you'’ll never understand. You’ll never understand how you go away, and you'll never understand that in these moments, or these seasons of wellness, I’m so grateful and so scared at the same time that we will lose you again.

Why am i acting so weird? I don't know how to tell you  I’m so happy I could cry, and so scared this won’t last, and I’m just trying to drink in this moment of wellness and pray to God it doesn't go away again anytime soon.