My2Moms Blog: Day 2 Thought she might be dead 2x

Saturday, December 16, 2006

Day 2 Thought she might be dead 2x

Well today m2m was still sleeping after 11 1/2 hours of slumber. She told me last night that she usually wakes up around "6", so when I had to leave at 7:30 and check on her I creaped slowly with my daughter into her room, I truly thought that the stress of the flight, all her other physical problems, the fact that ob has found her in many a precarious state, she would not be breathing. She typically has a snore that would shake my 100 year old house quite easily and there was no sound of life emitting from her room. However, I was relieved when I did hear some sounds of life. PHEW! I really thought I might have to call 911. I decided to leave a note on with the phone for her call me on my cell when she got up.

I had a very busy morning and before I knew it, I looked at my watch and it was 11AM. I called her also thinking that there was a major problem...
"Hi Mom"
"Hi"
"Did you get my note"
"Oh yeah."
"Why didn't you call me"
"Oh, I couldn't figure out your phone, couldn't get a dial tone."
"All you need to do is push the 'on' button"
"Oh, maybe you can show me when you get home"
"ummm"

That's a pretty good indicator that she is in a low. I really think I woke her up. When I came home, about 2PM, m2m had made breakfast that I laid out for her, a sandwich for lunch, dressed herself and showered and that is literally all she had done, since waking up "around 7:40".

HISTORICAL ANECDOTE ALERT:
It's not as bad as the lows that we, as a family endured in the past. In early grade school, I began to realize m2m was not "normal". She would spend 18-22 hours in bed for weeks at a time. I distinctly remember one episode in 4th or 5th grade. She came out of her cacoon smelling like a rotten turnip with flannel pajamas on after school one day. She sat on the end of the couch, hair in a silver mohawk, and cried so hard I didn't know what to do. I really felt terrible for her but really didn't have any clue what to say or do. Those lows were really tough, thank you God, for my Grandparents, who would come and provide some normalcy in our house during our formative years.

Now, with the plethora of medications that m2m has taken over the years, I feel like the lows aren't as deep or extended, but there is a continual numbness in her that is troubling. She does not seem interested our excited to see our 14 month daughter (which she hasn't seen since last Christmas), who is the center of my life. It doesn't appear that she wants to do anything at all. Today, she sat and watched CBS until I got home. Gripping television for sure! I think the thing that bothers me the most about m2m's, is her lack of effort. In my 20's, I came to accept that she is a sick, mentally ill person. Although that was an extremely difficult and emotionaly wretching process for me, I am grateful I was able to finally realize that. I realize that I can not help her, and maybe no medication can (they say that 10% of bipolar cases do not respond to any medication at all). With that being said, there are signicant amounts of time where I believe she can function as a normal person and chooses not to do so. This is still extremely troubling for me, however, I now realize that I can not change this aspect of her either.

Whenever ob or I try to encourage her step out of comfort zone she quickly gets defensive and irritated. I am comitted to making her stay as pleasant as possible, for her, my wife, and quite frankly myself. Therefore, I have not tried to prod or ask her any questions about her behavior. As result, most of our conversations have been very depressing and overwhelmingly negative. She likes to dwell on the problems she sees and continually asks questions and makes comments about them. Like "Wow, your daughter sure is fussy, I wonder what's wrong with her?". "Does she always cry like that?" "Your wife's job sounds stressful, how does she manage it?" (BTW, my wife loves her job and it really isn't stressful at all) etc, etc. These negative leading questions are beginning to get on my nerves a little bit, I really don't know if they are intentional, but I think I will ask her about them tomorrow.

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Why My2Moms?

My2Moms.blogspot.com lets fellow netizens peak into the simultaneous insanity and humor of untreatable bipolar disorder. Just as bipolar sufferers cycle through successive swings of mania and depression, their supporters swing through emotions as well. For the sufferer, the cycles maybe yearly, monthly or weekly. For the supporter, the swings may last days, hours, minutes, even seconds in my case. A nice dose of high/low for the sufferer and a healthy sampling of frustration/ amusement for the supporter…that’s what this disease serves at every episodic meal, at least at my restaurant.

I don’t mean to make light of this horrible disease, but frankly, seeing the funny is the only way for me to cope with it on a daily basis. Sometimes shaking my head and laughing about it is the only thing that keeps my head from exploding under the pressure of distress.

I hope that by chronicling my journey, others will know they are not alone. I don’t plan to deliver hope, but you might find it here. I really hope you do. I don’t have answers, but you might find them here as well, and along the way I might too.

As a member of the male gender, I can confirm the indelible truth that we don’t often speak about pain, heartache, weakness and suffering…communicating about mental disorders affecting our families is even less common. It takes a certain humility and vulnerability, that most men find lacking in their given chromosomal arrangement, to open up about such things.

But, I’ve found, with near unanimity, that almost every person encounters mental illness in some way. Whenever I muster the courage to reveal my own situation to a friend, whether male or female, I find a common ground with them through their personal experiences with mental illness. Sometimes the experience afflicts them directly, but most often a relative or close friend. It’s nearly universal.

So this blog is meant to broaden my communication with the hope of helping others, and myself, navigate the waves of bipolar disorder.

About Me

I’m very happily married to a devoted, intelligent, and beautiful wife. I have two healthy, awe-inspiring young children…one boy and one girl…and of course a dog to round out the Rockwell family portrait. I live in a beautiful house, in a nice quiet neighborhood, in the burbs of one of the most livable cities on the planet. I’ve been successful in my career, I’ve traveled the world more than I ever imagined, and want for nothing much beyond that which I’ve been blessed. I live the American dream in almost every way.

On the downside, I can be a bit crass (at least in the circles that I run in), arrogant, condescending, and sarcastic, but, hey, at least I’m not as judgmental as I used to be. I consider myself a respectable work in progress.

My childhood was utopian in all respects except for the toll that My2Mom’s bipolar exacted upon the stability of my family. I had an adequate supply of friends, played all the sports my body could endure, and excelled in school enough to attend and graduate from an Ivy League university. I survived the divorce of my parents, the temporary homelessness of living in a shelter, and the emotional and financial insecurities wrought by the quaking disruptiveness that emanates from My2Moms.

I often wonder if I’ve achieved my bliss in spite of my childhood battles or because of them. As I grow older, I suspect it’s the latter. I was able to escape my childhood through the blessings of providence and the kind acts of loved ones…my father’s unwavering committed to his two sons…my brother’s camaraderie and friendship…my grandparents’ unfaltering support for our better good.

In many ways, when I went away to college, I literally walked out the door of My2Mom’s chaos. It’s not that we were estranged in any way. Quite to the contrary, we’ve always been fairly close. But, when you live a good distance away from a bipolar loved one, you are worlds away. The disease can be someone else’s problem, in this case my grandparents’.

They, even more than my brother and I, have borne the brunt of My2Mom’s disease. They supported us financially, emotionally, and physically (providing shelter) because my mom couldn’t. They literally stepped up to the plate for 30 years delivering a steady hit of balance ever step of the way. But, they are aging now, in their mid 80s, with failing health and a sense that their journeys are nearing their end.

Which brings us to my current situation. It’s time for me to step up.

In February, we moved my mom closer to my family and I in order to give my grandparents the peace of knowing My2Moms will be cared for even when they are gone. In many ways, it’s my thank you to them. Peace in their final years is the best I have to offer and I will deliver it.

So now I reenter the chaos almost half a lifetime after I left. I must deal with it.

About My2Moms

Of course, my two moms are one. Manic Mom and Sad Mom embody the single individual who gave me life, did her best to raise me, and above all loves me whole heartedly. She is a good person with a caring heart, but a tortured soul. You see, 30 some-odd years ago something went horribly wrong…at least that’s when it became obvious.

That’s when Sad Mom started staying in bed a lot, sometimes for weeks, sometimes sleeping for 16-20 hours a day. That’s when suicidal tendencies started to lurk. And it’s when she began to temporarily withdraw from friendships and become a little mute girl in social situations despite being an adult. That’s when she became despondent, downhearted and dejected. But, perhaps most of all, that’s when she became dependent…on her 5 year old son to cook his grilled cheese sandwiches, on her mom to help raise her children, and on her husband to balance the teeter totter world of a bipolar.

That’s also when Manic Mom started having “blackout spending” episodes. And that’s when she started displaying racing, disconnected thoughts, the energy of a bottle rocket, and the focus of a gnat. That’s when she was fun, sociable and a mouthpiece spewing words without a filter. She could conquer anything, except keeping the house clean, the checkbook balanced, the credit card in her wallet, or her head on a pillow for more than 3 hours at night.

My2Mom’s cycles started slowly at first…typically rolling from mania to depression in now ironically graceful cycles of maybe six months to a year. Over the decades, My2Mom’s cycles became more and more rapid, today she typically endures 3-4 weeks high and 3-4 weeks low with a week or two of “normalcy” sandwiched in between. But, the bread overwhelms the nourishment in most cases and makes for a pretty dissatisfying meal. The highs and lows come in a variety of extremes, sometimes mild like wonder bread, other times exceedingly intense and frightening, like moldy garlic toast burnt to a crisp.

For a long time, My2Moms was misdiagnosed with pure depression, insomnia, and other disorders. Little was known about the disease back then. She tried drugs, hypnotherapy, biofeedback and relaxation techniques, more drugs…sometimes cocktail-style. About 5 years ago the concoction was so potent that her hands shook so hard she couldn’t write legibly, brush her teeth, or walk with a plate of food more than a few feet without dancing it off the plate. Nothing seemed to work, and after 30 years of fight, nothing really works even now. She’s maxed out on Seroquil and Lamictal, with no end in sight to the crests and waves of her disorder.

So, we deal with it. This is our story, thanks for the conversation.

My2Moms Blog

Saturday, December 16, 2006

Day 2 Thought she might be dead 2x

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