The Kronicles of my Krazy Escapades
Friday, August 29, 2014
The Other Side of the Story: honest, raw, transparent musings about the effect of mental illness on families.
I can't remember the moment I began to fear my mom.
But I remember with great clarity the way this fear made me feel.
A rush of thoughts ran through my mind rapidly with panic in its undertone.
"Karyne is a friend from over the Atlantic
We connect through our separate journeys
that we experience - emotionally, spiritually,
as beautiful humans working at life and mental health.
I BLOG repeatedly that12 Men
will commit suicide in the UK today.
I am concerned that many hide their BHP selves
away so afraid of vulnerability and shame
that they cannot share/TALK! to anyone about it.
Karyne has blogged this - so powerfully real.
She has given me permission to post here.
I share it with you hoping it will help you
and others through you.
Please share. .......... Pip BHP"
"Remember this is her illness."
"Oh my dear God, my mom may injure me."
"Remember this is her illness, it is not personal."
"Oh my dear God, protect dad and I."
"Remember this is her illness."
"Oh my dear God I cannot call the police on my own mother."
"Remember this is her illness talking."
"Oh my dear God, help us."
"Oh my dear God, look into her eyes.
They are empty, blank, evil, confused.
This is not my mom standing before me."
"Remember this is her illness."
"Oh my dear God, she hates me,
her own amazing daughter who would do anything for her."
"Oh my dear God, what are those words coming out of her mouth -
horrifying, abusive words she doesn't know what she is saying."
"Remember this is not personal, it is her illness, this blasted disease."
"Oh my dear God, she is saying she wants to end her life."
"Remember this is her illness."
"Don't let your fear give you away. Stay calm."
"Remember this is her illness. It is not her fault."
"It is not your fault." "Keep loving her.
Don't stop.
Pray you won't remember these terrifying, damaging times."
"It is her illness taking over her precious mind."
I hate this disease. It is so unfair that it attacks beautiful humans and latches on with all its might. They did nothing to deserve this horrible illness. I hate how it destroys the lives of families. I hate how it destroys and torments the lives of precious humans. I hate there is still a stigma surrounding it. I hate that I have had to keep it secret out of respect for my mom and for my dad. I can no longer.
The pain is too much. It is a silent killer. I am slowly watching my mom die- that vivacious, caring, compassionate, gregarious, organized woman has ceased.
I am slowly watching my dad die too. He is 81 years old and is exhausted caring for his bride of 57 years. For better or worse, in sickness and in health. The cynic in me questions these vows. At the end of my dad's life, where have these vows gotten him? My dad is an amazing, courageous, strong, compassionate, gregarious, musical soul who would do anything for anyone. I know God has kept him alive on this planet for a reason. He still has so much to offer the world. Yet, he is hindered. Having to deal with my mom and the stress is taking its toll on his health. It breaks my heart. It makes me angry. I'm not ready to lose my dad yet. When my dad has moments of wanting to leave my mom, I tell him it is okay. Maybe it is not my place. But I say it out of love and to allow him to see there can be a way out when it seems there is not. However, being the incredible human soul that my father is, he doesn't want to abandon his bride. He made that commitment years ago and he wants to honour caring for his bride "in sickness." He loves her. She is his life.
I hate that as a family our hands are tied and we cannot get my mom the help she needs until it seems it would be too late. I understand the Mental Health Act was put in place to stop abuse but it is now hindering families from helping their loved ones. Unless we take drastic measures we have to sit and wait. And watch.
Watch the frightened look deep in my mom's eyes and soul. Watch her paranoia worsen. Watch the helpless feeling she is experiencing but cannot express. Watch the depths of her soul know something is terribly wrong with her but for some reason is refusing to get the help she needs.
Over the years my mom has managed her bipolar disorder. However, as she has aged, specifically this past year, she has not been managing it well at all.
Families are forgotten. In the mismanagement of the disorder, families suffer greatly, if not more, in my opinion. We have to learn to cope with it and constantly figure out the new "mystery" rules my mom has put in place. We constantly have to "walk on eggshells" out of fear of what my mom may do. We constantly are trying to repair fractured friendships. We are constantly trying to solve embarrassing situations. We are constantly having to sort out the practical living issues that arise due to her illness. I have to watch my father have breakdowns and he likewise has to witness my meltdowns when the stress is too much. We constantly have to hear horrifying words that pierce straight to our heart and pray they are not absorbed into our spirit.
The way we have learned to cope in order to live with this precious woman with a horrible disease doesn't always work. We are learning new ways to cope and learning how to change some of our strategies that have not been useful. However, when it comes to family, it is emotional. So we have to do what needs to be done in order to survive.
Dad and I are learning it is okay to share our pain with our community of friends and is not being disrespectful to mom. We have to allow these wonderful people sharing this journey with us to make their own conclusions. So we have been pleasantly surprised at the acceptance rather than the judgemental, hurtful stigma we have experienced in the past. We are grateful they still love my mom and see past this illness to the true person she was created to be sharing space on this planet.
My exhortation to those of you reading this post is this:
As you walk past a person who seems out of sorts and you want to dismiss them as being crazy,
think of their family.
If you are afraid of someone with a mental illness, think of their family.
And don't be frightened. They are more like you than you realize. They are just trapped inside their mind with a horrible disease.
But think of their family. Their family is just like yours. No different.
Imagine the suffering their families are having to endure.
Show compassion not fear.
Offer a genuine smile.
And think of their families.
This is the other side of the story.
****UPDATE****
In the middle of writing this post, my mom was admitted to the hospital. The police actually picked her up yesterday for driving dangerously (Another blessing because she cannot blame us for taking her to the hospital). It is a long story (and miraculously no one was hurt or killed), but God had every detail in place. My father and I feel tremendously relieved she is getting the help she needs. It has been difficult to watch but we know she is in good hands now. It has been what we have been praying for all summer. She is safe. We are safe. We are praying as her mind and body heal she will diligently keep on the meds prescribed to her so she will get back to living her life to the fullest as a "beautiful human person." (Pip Wilson)
http://swile67.blogspot.co.uk/2014/08/the-other-side-of-story-honest-raw.html?m=1
