A Long Hard Winter

Since my last writing I've been fighting the growing monster of mental illness that has plagued me at some level my whole life. I now have a diagnosis of bipolar II and take a handful of medications daily which keep me from killing myself but don't really make my life a wonderland.

In the past six months or so, I've wanted to kill myself more times than I could possibly count. My brain is trying to kill me. I read that somewhere and thought it was exactly right. A perfect description of what I endure. The meds I take keep my brain in check for the most part finally but make me sick in other ways. It's all a game of what sucks worse.

Wanting to kill yourself is by far the worst thing to endure... ever. Despite the overwhelming nature of the suicidal feelings, other parts of my brain speak up to argue the case that my life is worth living or at the very least that I would hurt people I love by ending my life. The latter case is the strongest. I just look at my beautiful daughter and know that by ending my life I would be handing her part of my agony that she will have to carry for the rest of her life. Then, if she has inherited Bipolar Disorder or Depression it will be one soul injury that will be used to torture her during her fight with her brain. And I won't be by her side to tell her that I know how she feels, or fight to help her overcome this to live a good life. I'll be rotting in the ground. Useless to her.

During my hypomanic phases (the phase that alternates with the depression) I am angry and anxious and want to just scream because I just can't relax. This phase is preferable to the depression but snapping at those you love really makes you consider just giving up and thus you end up thinking about killing yourself again.

I know that I'm so lucky compared to others in my position. My husband is amazing. He's caring, understanding and gets mad with me when I decide that I'm mad at the psychiatrist. He is my hero and my daughter is the major reason for staying alive. God is one who gives me hope and I know has helped me through this. I'm so blessed.

Two Steps Forward

It’s the one step back that comes after the two steps forward that really tests your faith. By faith, I don’t necessarily mean in a higher power but faith in everything you might believe to be true. When trying to heal from a complex chronic illness, a person is required to have a lot of faith in many things. Faith in the chosen doctors, the treatments used and the ability to know if you're even on the right track. It always boils down to faith in my own knowledge and judgment in the end because when breaking new ground there is no foundation yet to stand on or a clear path to follow.

Em’s situation is murky. She has chronic Lyme Disease which is elusive enough and then also some diagnoses of related issues or unrelated depending on which doctors we want to have ‘faith’ in.

I’m not the type of person to sail a boat down the river of Denial. I can't assume that all Autism is curable. But, I am able to trust advice based in scientific logic, anecdotal evidence and my own experience if it applies. I do also understand that when you don't try anything at all you will definitely fail.

For most people who are trying rather than settling, there doesn’t need to be a double-blind placebo controlled study. By the time those studies (required by the traditional powers that be) are done my daughter will be in college - or in an institution depending on the path we might choose. There does need to be a sound scientific theory behind a course of action for me to follow it. I’m so grateful for my biology and psychology degree which gave me the foundation for me to grow my ability for reasoning and research.

It’s hard living in the real world of slow healing and ‘no free lunches.’ Nothing is as easy as the 60 second drug commercials make it out to be. No drug will instantly fix you without harming you in another way. No therapy is without its hard work or price. Where exactly to put your energy is where the sleepless nights come into play.

I think we have a good mix of treatment in progress for Em. She has received the traditional therapies recommended for an autistic diagnosis and sensory integration diagnosis. She attends a preschool for special needs children every weekday morning… three days per week receiving her occupational therapy and speech therapy. Two days per week the school is mixed with the typical Academy preschoolers for extra socialization. Em is basically playing catch up for the most part. She also gets aggressive, long term antibiotic treatment for the Lyme Disease diagnosis made by a world-renowned pediatrician in the field who dares to believe that when you have an infection you should treat it. I also use a few supplements and now homeopathy via my own ever growing knowledge. There are so many things to try. So many options to sift through.

Then there are the days like the last few days. The days in between the language surges from the antibiotic or homeopathic remedy where you can communicate with your daughter and love her so easily. The days when her words come out backward or she howls or barks a bit more than usual and when she whines and yells more than talks are the days when you just want to sit in the corner and cry. We haven’t had many of these days at all in the past six months and it’s always harder to go backward to a place where you never wanted to be the first time around. The days that are so rough that you can’t just tell yourself that this is just typical 3 year old behavior and convince yourself that you’re just overreacting. The days are so rough that it’s hard to remember that you love your daughter even if she’s not well… just like she loves me even though I’m not well either.

Questions

1. Why does my daughter insist on using her hair as a napkin? Pure convenience? Should I try this method?

2. Why must I try to knit three projects at once? Is it because I hate myself?

3. Why were we missing one smoke detector in our apartment? Did the last tenant take it?

4. Why do I dislike washing the dishes so much? Is it the 'yuck' factor or the fact that my hands get really dry from doing it?

5. Why don't I like to use hand lotion? (see #4) Is it because I can't open doors after using it?