Today’s post is a re-post of a message from Diane Chosinski.  She left it on the yahoo group, BiPolarParentsT.  This group is a place for parents of bipolar teens to share their stories, ask for advice and just seek a little support. If you haven’t explored the online groups available, I encourage you to do so.  They can be so helpful in finding that you are not alone in this struggle.

The message really hit home for me.  We have all been there.  I want to thank Diane for so eloquently describing our darker moments.

Today Shelly turned 16, when she was a baby no one told me told me about the roller coaster life that we call bi polar.

No one told me that I would be up for days at a time worrying about Shelly if she was ok making sure that she wasn’t going to hurt someone or herself.

No one told me that instead of planning a sweet 16 birthday party I would be having a supervised visit with her in Denny’s.

No one told me that instead of cake and ice cream i would be serving her lamatical and Risperidone with a side of melatonin.

No one told me that the beautiful baby that they handed me was going to have to live in a daily hell. No one told me that I wouldn’t be able to fix whatever was bothering her.

She should be getting ready to go out on her first date tonight instead she will be in lock down at 9. I used to joke and laugh with her about if i was rich she would go off to a rich boarding school in Europe never meant a RTC some were here in IL.

Never thought I would be one of THOSE parents were DCFS knows you on a first name basis.

I am angry today.  I am angry at this illness for stealing my daughter’s life away from as I had hoped and dreamed for her. I am angry at the mental health system for not doing more research on the meds and finding out what we can do to help these kids. I am angry that the only most parents only get the help after their child has done something so bad that the police and courts have had to be called. I want to through a feet stomping hands waving temper tantrum if i thought that it would help my Shelly I would do it in a heartbeat.

There were parent support groups available to us for Amy but we were just too exhausted emotionally and physically to take advantage of them.  It’s sad because I imagine that they could have been very helpful.  Unfortunately, when we were going through the toughest times during the first two years, we just couldn’t manage to make them.

We had way too much on our plates – dealing with her unpredictable emotions, driving every night to visit her when she was hospitalized, doctor and therapy appointments and just trying to deal with the rest of our lives made it impossible for us to even remember to put the meetings on our calendars, let alone get ourselves to them!

However, if you can at all arrange it, I would recommend checking them out.  Here’s a link to some national groups and you can search for meetings in your city:

National Alliance on Mental Health   http://www.nami.org/

Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration   http://www.samhsa.gov/

I’ve discovered groups on yahoo as well but unfortunately I didn’t think to look for this until after Amy was well on her way to recovery.  You’ll find supportive parents going through the same problems whom you can commiserate, vent or question about your situation. The two groups I have found are Parents of Depressed Teens and BiPolar Parents.

If anyone knows of any other groups, please send me a comment and I’ll include them on the list.

In the following article, MSN reports of a man who has saved at least 160 people from committing suicide at a tragically popular jumping spot in Australia.  As a result, Don Ritchie and his wife Mora have earned the 2010 Citizens of the Year award.

It’s interesting that Don merely starts his conversations with the potential jumpers with a simple, seven letter sentence: “would you like a cup of tea”?  This non-threatening, simple question has been effective 160 times!  The man is genius.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/37670329/ns/world_news/from/ET

It got me thinking about how much easier it is for those not personally invested to approach our suicidal family members.  As Amy’s mood would drop, my fear increased.  I know she could hear it in my voice.  Maybe this is why her therapist can talk her down from the edge (figuratively) when I cannot.  Who knows?

One other random thought on this tea offer thing.  When my daughters were small, I would have them drink a glass of water to calm down after some trauma.  Skinned knee and crying uncontrollably always called for a glass of water from Dr Mom.  My kids joke that a glass of water will cure anything, including an amputation!  But really, I found that the act of drinking always got them to calm down, breathe more slowly and relax a little.  Maybe tea has the same effect…

It is so hard – emotionally, financially and physically – to be a caregiver for
anyone who has an illness, regardless of the reason. We sacrifice so much. The
whole family is inconvenienced, the financial strain is great and effects
everyone. We take them to appointments, rearrange our lives and make their care
the center of our decisions. A simple thing like a family outing requires
considering the ill person’s needs as the first thought.  With Amy, we had to think about whether she would be overwhelmed by the event and freak out.  Or, would she be cranky and uncooperative and ruin the whole experience for us?

The second was usually “do we have any extra money” because so much of their care is out of pocket
and not covered by insurance. Amy’s therapist, at $95 a visit, wasn’t covered.  When you consider that she was going to those visits weekly, that adds up to $400 a month.  No wonder I drive a 15 year old car!
But, I think it’s even harder to be a caregiver for someone with mental illness because they are able-bodied.   When they physically can accomplish things, it’s hard to remember that the
illness is what makes them unwilling or unable to do things. They’re not being
lazy, the illness is making them unmotivated. Think about what a
monumental task it is for a depressed person  just to get out of bed in the
morning and continue for one more day in the hope that things will get better.

As the caregiver – it sucks!!! We have to put ourselves and our lives, hopes,
and dreams on hold but we do it because we love them. It’s a very long, slow
recovery process from mental illness and we all wish we had a magic wand that we
could wave to make it all go away. Amy has been stable for a year now and I
still have regrets about the opportunities I missed because she was sick.
However, she is alive, the suicide attempts were not successful and that makes
it all worthwhile.

Try to get some relief for yourself and get out and do something you enjoy. We
all have to find a way to get a break from them just so we can stay strong and
stay the course. We can’t help them if we’re not healthy. With my daughter, I
would do gardening. We were afraid to leave her with a family member so we
couldn’t leave the house.  We just couldn’t risk her making a suicide attempt when someone else was caring for her.  So,  I got out and worked in the yard. Since she was
depressed, she wasn’t interested in joining me in the project and she left me alone.  I
could enjoy a few blissful hours of quiet and create something beautiful that I
could look at and enjoy later.

Amy learned during her first hospitalization to try doing enjoyable activities as a distraction when she started feeling overwhelmed.  These activities were called “copers” – something to help her cope with her anxiety.  She made a lengthy list which she would bring out and review as needed.  She would then choose one to do.  If that one didn’t work, she’d bring out the list and choose another until she found one to calm her down.

Some copers were typical – reading, singing to music, drawing, etc.  Some were just plain weird, like letting rice run through her fingers.  Yes, we honestly had a bag of “coper rice” which she would play with.  The tactile sensation was soothing to her.  The coper list went with her to school in her pencil bag, too, ready for when she needed it.  Of course, the coper rice had to stay home but there were plenty of other things on the list that she could do at school.

My point here is that if it works (and is legal, ethical, not destructive  and moral) then let them do it.  Whatever it takes.  Yes, it involves some getting used to but let them do it.  They need to find how to control their emotions on their own.

It kind of reminds me of Amy’s imaginary friends when she was three.  She had half a dozen of them.  We followed the drill; indulge them and eventually she’ll give them up.  So, when her imaginary friend Dorothy was staying for dinner, we set a place for her.

We did have to draw the line a few times, though.  I remember her older sister coming to me complaining that she couldn’t watch TV because all of Amy’s imaginary friends were sitting in the chairs.  We  told Amy that her friends had to go home at that point.  She smiled at me  and I started to suspect that the friends were becoming a matter of convenience.  Or in her sister’s case, inconvenience!

Who knew our kids could have their own month?  Anyway, here are some helpful links for support:

• National Federation of Families for Children’s Mental Health at http://www.ffcmh.org
• National Alliance on Mental lllness at www.nami.org
• Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMSHA), US Department of Health and Human Services, at  http://www.samhsa.gov/children/index.aspx

How many times has this gone through your head?  We’re all running through this mess, trying to keep our kids safe and bring them back to reality but we’re sailing in unchartered waters.  There is no map or any similar personal experience to guide us.  We’re on our own and just doing the best we can.

Surprisingly, Showtime has captured the essence of living with a person with mental illness in their relatively new series United States of Tara.  The title character has mulitple personalities but this is no ordinary Sybil-like program.  Instead, they also focus on the spouse, children and others who are affected by the character’s illness.

Hank and I found this program while Amy was away and it really opened up conversation about things that we just couldn’t deal with at the time.  For example, at one point the teenaged daughter declares that the family is f***ed.  Hank and I just started laughing knowingly for we understood all too well.

You know that having the hospital psych ward and your pharmacy’s phone numbers in the contacts directory of your cell phone is completed f***ed!  You know that having your child yell “Why won’t you let me kill myself?” is completely f***ed but what else can you do?

There were so many times we had to deal with things so far outside the scope of normal but never had the luxury to really evaluate our feelings about them.  Amy had enough emotion going on, we didn’t need to add ours to the mix so ours got put aside, on hold, until the day when we could start to let them out.

I highly recommend this program for parents of mentally ill children but only after your child is relatively stable.  I think it would have been too painful for us to watch two years ago when she was still so fragile and we were still so scared.  Let’s face it, the consequences of failing our child are dire and the pressure almost unbearable.

I’m sure most have heard about the 15 year old girl from South Hadley, Mass who committed suicide after enduring the bullying of a group of classmates for a prolonged time.  As Amy was a victim of bullying, I can only imagine the heartbreak of her family.  It is this parent’s worst nightmare.  We struggled so long to keep Amy going so she didn’t choose this option to end her torment.

Below is a link to an interesting article by Dr. Keith Ablow which sheds some light about how bullies choose their victims.  I found it very interesting and probably true in Amy’s case.  His theory is that they can somehow intuit sensitive kids who can be more vulnerable than others.  I know this is the case with Amy.

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,590111,00.html

It’s funny, she has friends now who are trying to help her become stronger in sticking up for herself.  They’re trying to help her learn that she should confront those who disparage her at school.  One has even become her self-appointed body guard!

Hank and I are now on day three without Amy.  She is on spring break and enjoying it with her grandparents.  We are decompressing.

Amy is not an easy child to parent.  Don’t get me wrong, she is delightful and one of the greatest people it has been my pleasure to know.  I love her with all of my being.  However, it is exhausting to be her parent.

Until today, I never really could put my finger on why this is.  Today, however, out of the blue, it hit me.  I have to be constantly leading her.  Although it has been nearly two years since she was last hospitalized, I am still leading her daily.  Those three years of finding the right meds, therapist and hospitalizations, she lost three years of development.  She just doesn’t understand how life works.

We have to explain so much to her – why people do what they do, how to make friends, what she needs to do to complete a project, how to keep track of her stuff, etc.  It’s like puberty on an accelerated course.  We have to teach her what she should have learned along the way from ages 12 to 15 as quickly as possible and it’s exhausting.

So Hank and I are taking this week as a breather.

It’s been four and half years since Amy was diagnosed and we’ve just experienced the best year since.  She’s been doing great at school, has many friends, is involved in extra curricular activities and we haven’t had any lengthy depressive episodes in a year.  Life, as we knew it before, is returning.  The only problem is, I really don’t remember what it was like before.

I’m noticing spring as if it was my first.  When she was ill, I don’t think I ever noticed the change of seasons.  Now, I am seeing the grass going from brown to green and anticipating leaves on the trees.  I notice changes in the clouds again.  I feel the cold crisp air of the morning gradually warm to a more comfortable temperature by noon.  It’s hard to believe it’s been so long since I last noticed these things.

I’ve lived in the Midwest all of my life and the most destructive source I know is a tornado.  Living with a depressed child is a lot like dodging an errant tornado.  You’re never quite sure which way it will jump.  You just see the swirling chaos and try to stay a step away from the vortex.  As it moves, it destroys everything you know and just spews it randomly around you.

It feels now as if the tornado has passed and I’m going back trying to pick up the pieces that remain.  I was triumphant, though, because we all survived and at least we are all here to pick up the pieces together.