The Person that changed my approach to mental illness

                                                                               

The person that changed my approach to mental illness was my dad, but not in a way you may think.

In 1996, just shy of my 30^th birthday I was hospitalized for the first time and officially diagnosed with Schizo-Affective Disorder.   (This illness was passed genetically to me from my father who lived with Paranoid Schizophrenia.   Schizo-Affective in essence is a combination of Bipolar Disorder and Schizophrenia)   I finally had an answer to what had been happening to me mentally, physically, not to mention the effects it had on those I loved.  I knew what I had to do to help myself, take my medication, visit the psychologist and take care of myself physically.  This was not going to go away over night, or with the magic of a pill.  It was long term and I had to face it. 

Like most people, however, I am stubborn and believed I knew better than the doctors, I could do this on my own.  I didn’t want medication or help from them, I knew what was wrong and could get myself through it, and after all I’d made it this far, right? 

My theory seemed to be working until one early April morning in 1999; I received a phone call that my dad had passed away.  While his death was heartbreaking, knowing how and why he died threw me into my own reality and made me see who I didn’t want to become.

My dad lived for more than 30 years in a world of his own.  He rejected treatments, doctors and hospitals; he was a wanderer, always searching for what was in his heart or an idea he was chasing.  I consider that a part of who he was, as a Native American his spirit called to him and he followed, it was the  part of himself that he could control and enjoy, the one part that was not taken away from him by illness.   Videos were found after his death that he had made; snippets of himself trying to explain away the voices and confusion in his head,  we could see that while the intelligent and talent man we knew was talking, his mind was not his own.

That moment, those images, rocked me to my core, he was not able to help himself when he needed it most.  The illness that took over his mind was too powerful for him to control and without help from a doctor; he could not put the voices and images to rest. 

I realized that what I had been doing was no different from what my dad had done, ignoring the doctors, and believing I was better on my own, that the voices and images were nothing to worry about. I came to realize that yeah, they were something to worry about and if I didn’t start listening and taking care of myself, I too would become a statistic – as statistic like my dad. 

I tell people that he gave life to me twice, he is my father, but in his death he saved me from falling down the same path he did.  I’m not saying it’s been easy, I have been hospitalized a few times over the years and at times still buck the system, but what has kept me going is knowing that I am stronger with each day and I believe he is with me, watching to make sure I stay on track and live my life, a life that was cut short for him.   

His Native American spirit is in me as well, I too am a wanderer and find the greatest joy and peace when I am hiking or taking photographs, it is then that the voices settle, the mind focuses and just for a moment, I am free!

I live now for both of us.  

What a Wallaby taught me about Bipolar Disorder.

 

Have you ever had a moment when things become a little clearer, you could relate a specific incident to what you were feeling?  I had one of those moments this morning; it was heart wrenching but triggered something in my mind, I suddenly realized that I was not alone in my struggle and I could learn something everyday on how this illness works and what others do to live with it and make the right decisions, or even how to live with the bad ones.  

 It was 6am, and I was driving to the beach for a sunrise walk, thinking of the sand, the sun and the quiet during the morning, when I saw them – the Wallabies  One hopped causally across the road; I slowed down knowing there was probably another not far behind.  Sure enough he was on the side of the road trying to decide if he should cross.   As we watched each other, he turned  back into the bush, or so I thought.   Watching him return to where he’d come from I continued on – well, he had a last second change of heart and turned to road as I drove past him, the two of us meeting in a split second, and I couldn’t stop.   I felt the bump, and in that moment and my heart sank.   I slowed looking in my mirror terrified at what I would see and what I had done.   However, he wasn’t there!   Where had he gone?  I was sure I had hit him.  

 So, what does this have to with Bipolar Disorder, you ask?   As I walked down the beach, thinking over the incident just moments before, I realized the Wallaby was as confused as I am sometimes, turning back and forth, not sure of the next step to take.  My mind jumbled, turning in circles as I figure out my following move.

 Hiding in the bush wondering if he should come out, is like hiding in a dark room afraid to go outside, to let people in.  What will they think?  If they see will they stop and talk, or will they just walk by.

 Standing on the side of the road deciding what to do, is the spinning mind and the uncertainty that plagues everyday actions.   Too many days are spent wondering what to do with the racing thoughts, wishing they would stop and focus to be on a single moment and action, if only for a few minutes.

Tires catching his tail are the risks taken – both good and bad.   When incorrect decisions are made, there are people who are hurt; there is a feeling of helplessness and seemingly no way to make it better.  The good is when a risk is taken and can stand tall, no matter the pain and press on determined to do the right thing. 

Wallabies, Kangaroos, Wombats and various other wildlife find their way on to the roads, and their struggle with survival, taking chances, relying on instinct to make the right decision is relatable to those with mental illness and challenges faced daily.   

There is no doubt. I will look more closely from this day forward, though that isn’t a guarantee of it not happening again, just like each cycle, I go through – as mania and depression collide – I will at some point come face to face with an obstacle along the road.

 

 

Mental Health and the Supportive Partner

In early January 2016, while corresponding with a friend in Tasmania, I told him of my mental illness.  Being that open and honest and sharing my story with someone was terrifying.  Once I hit send, I was more than terrified at the email I would receive in return.  Would we still be friends, would I receive an email back at all?  I feared rejection, but it never came.  Instead  he asked questions and never judged me.  He listened to what I had to say, being more inquisitive than anything.  So, he did his own research and learned all he could on Bipolar Disorder and what he could do to support me. 

Here is what I wrote:  

In, '96 I attempted suicide and spent 3 weeks in the hospital. While there I received the diagnosis of Bipolar Disorder, anxiety and PTSD.  My mental illness is hereditary, my father was paranoid schizophrenic.  He never sought treatment and was a wanderer. My mom tells me I am just like him.  He passed away in 1999, a victim of his illness. 

I need my medication, it's reality and not a big deal to me anymore. There are days that are bad and days when the world is perfect.

Over the next few months, our relationship grew and we made the decision for me to make the move to Tasmania.  There was concern, of course, on how I would handle the change, mentally.  As we talked, we came up with a word, something I would say when I was anxious, depressed - when I needed help.  Our trigger word became, "home." A word that would bring the help I needed to combat the darkness and anxiety that  crept in when I least expected it. 

My biggest challenge was that I was alone and dependent on my partner.  I missed my family and friends, and some days wondered if I had made the right move.  I would go for a walk and see what was around me, the beaches, breathtaking sunrises and the love of my partner.  I knew it would not be easy at first, I had made a major change in my life, disrupted my structure and had to learn a new life.  In the first weeks I learned to drive on the opposite side of the road, a new money system and met friendly people.  Though I think some were more intrigued with the American in town.  

A few days ago I woke up depressed,  I didn't want to be out of bed, all I wanted to do was cry and I felt completely alone.  I picked up my phone and not realizing what I was saying, texted "I love you, hurry home."  Within ten minutes my phone was ringing, I had said "home."   In that moment I knew I wasn't alone, he comforted me and told me to get dressed and go for a walk, get some fresh air.  Two hours later, after a 2 1/2 mile walk, my mind was clearer and I was able to face the rest of the day.   I realized then that everything we had planned for, was working and I could ask for the help I needed. 

The message here is, find people who will support you, whether it is a spouse, friend or other family member.  Talk with them, tell them what you need when things are not going well, make a plan for what to do in those instances.  Plans need to be in place before a depressive or manic episode takes over.  This is when you will need a support person to help you find your way through the cloud of confusion.  

Taking the Positive Road to Wellness

The biggest obstacle when it comes to mental illness is often times staying positive.  How can you be positive when each day seems  like an uphill battle instead  of a pleasant experience?  The answer may not be easy, but it is possible

20 years ago when I received my diagnosis, I believed I could handle it. How ever, it took many years to be at a place where I could understand what the doctor's told me.  I'll be honest I still don't always listen, but I have a better understanding of what I need to do and how to stay well. 

The same mind that turned on me is the one that helps to keep me on the path to wellness.   Staying positive despite the symptoms that come with mental illness  but it is possible.  

1.  Surround yourself with people who are willing to listen to you, stand by you and lift up when you are down.  Hearing their positive words are difficult at times, but it's just what we need.  Don't push them away, no matter how much you want to, they are the ones who care and in time their words will make sense. 
2. Make time for yourself.  This one is  hard, as often we feel alone and the last thing we want is to be alone on purpose, but this is different.  Taking time for yourself, is doing what you want for yourself.  Forget about the world for awhile, find what makes you happy or what used to and do it.  You may have to push yourself at first, or even the first five times, but keep going.  The feeling of worth will come and boost your mood and confidence. 
3. Write! I can not express this one enough.  You do not need to be a famous novelist, or perfect with your handwriting and language, this is only for you.  Putting your thoughts on paper, helps clear your brain of all that clutters it up and brings us down. If you fear someone reading what you write, use a computer program that requires a password.  It is OK to be selfish at times. 
4. Get outside.  Yes, another big step!  Nature is one of the best anti-depressants there is.  In our 24/7 world, we do not get outside enough.  The demands of our lives, families and work take us away from what we need most.  Going for a walk a couple times a week will help you relax and clear your mind.  I used to walk quite often and looked forward to the freedom, but life took over and I stopped.  I saw the difference.  I am back now to hiking and the peace that comes with it is welcome. 
5. Go easy on yourself.   Easier said that done, I know.  We blame ourselves for this illness we live with, but it's not our fault. We didn't wish this on ourselves, like any illness some get it, some don't.  Society does not make it easy, the stigma keeps us quiet and hidden, it's not our fault.  Don't let their words take hold.  
6. Smile!  Even when you seem to have forgotten how to, smile.  It may feel fake, but do it everyday.
7. To me, the most important of all - Music!  Put on your headphones or turn up the radio and play your favorite songs and lose yourself in the melody, the lyrics.  Music has a power like no other, use it!

By taking care of ourselves  we have a much better chance of a positive life and once we have that, the sky is the limit.

“J” is for Journey #atozchallenge

“The hardest part of any journey is taking that  first step.”  How true this simple sentence is, we think, plan, speculate and worry, but it’s not until we take that step that we actually believe we can do what we are capable of.  

I thought it would be interesting to do some research and find out what the band  Journey had to say about this topic, and surprisingly, I found quite a bit that pertained to my life, my own journey and my desire for everyone with mental illness.  

 “Be Good to Yourself”  ‘Runnin’ out of self-control, Getting’ close to an overload, Up against a no win situation.’   ‘Be good to yourself when, nobody else will, Oh be good to yourself.  You're walkin' a high wire, caught in a cross fire, Oh be good to yourself’

There are far too many days when I do feel like I am up against the wall, that there is no way out, no hope for stability and peace of mind.  Then I remember, no one, not my doctor’s, friends or family can make my mind behave and do what I want.  They do not have the power or ability to create a new life for me, that I must do on my own.  I must take care of myself, do what is right for me even when others do not understand my actions, they do not have too; this is my circus.  

“Wheel in the Sky”  ‘Wheel in the sky keeps on turnin’, I don’t know where I’ll be tomorrow, Wheel in the sky keeps on turnin’

 This is probably closest to what those with mental illness face each day, not knowing what the next minute will bring, will I want to give up or keep going?  Will I smile or cry? There is never a concrete answer to these questions, yet I ask them each day, hoping today will be the day that it all makes sense; that research comes through with a cure and the jumble of miss fired neurons in the brain finally settle and give life back to all those who were deprived of their proper function.  

“Don’t Stop Believing”  ‘Livin’ just to find emotion,  Hidin’ somewhere in the night’  

This, of course is the final thought and the most important, never stop believing that everything will be OK in the end, the sun will shine again and there will come a day when smiling is no longer a burden, but something done naturally.  We can’t stop speaking out, fighting for better mental health care, the battle to end the stigma of this illness.  Not believing isn’t an option, when the days are the darkest is when we need to remember what the words say,  be good to yourself and don’t stop believing.