Because of the long gap between posts, I feel the need to do a little catching up and I’ll try to be quick about it.
Back when I wrote the post in Dec of 06, I knew that I was at the beginning of something big. I just didn’t know what. And I hoped it might be something exciting and fun. It was exciting, all right. But fun, uh, not so much.
Shortly after that first post, my grandfather died. While I know that there are many people in my life that have loved me unconditionally, he is one of the few that made me FEEL unconditionally loved. I was with him when he died, and it was a profound, life-changing experience for me. It is such a privilege to watch someone pass from one life to the next, however difficult it may be. I found myself in a terrible grief, probably the first significant grief I have ever experienced. I was immobilized by it, and had to take an extended break from schooling my children.
An the initial grief started to lighten up, the rest of my world seemed to spiral down. I have had trouble with “mood swings” (for lack of a better term) for many, many years, but now the cycles were happing faster and the moods were more severe. My inner life was so ugly, that I didn’t even seek help from those around me, because I didn’t want them to see how bad it had gotten. However, I couldn’t possibly cover everything over for those closest to me, and they started coming to me separately with expressions of concern.
In August, things had gotten bad enough that I finally went to my family doctor with a plea for help. After many months of trial and error, and then a referral to a psychiatrist, I was diagnosed with a mood disorder–a mild form of bipolar. On the surface, this was very hard to hear. My knowledge of this disease came from experience with a very “crazy” and troubled person I once knew and from Sally Field’s character as Abby’s mom on ER. Neither of these is how I wanted to be labeled! But after some education, I realized that the form that I have is not like that. It’s characterized by cyclical mood swings, and the “mania” side of it is not so severe. It is more tormenting to me inwardly than something that people see externally.
I would describe the progression from “normal-to-normal” as this:
–normal, functioning life
–efficient “super-woman” stage (many projects and “systems” such as chore charts started here that will never be sustained or finished)
–racing thoughts that caused terrible irritability from too much stimulation and the severe need for down-time (lots of “escape” activities here in unhealthy amounts–interfering with needed, daily life–like reading, crossword puzzles, knitting, anything to let my mind focus on one thing only)
–back to super-woman (I particularly loved this stage, but it was so short that I always spent it cleaning up the messes from the other times)
–back to somewhat normal, but grieving the loss of “super woman”
–down to immobilizing depression and terrible feelings of guilt that I couldn’t keep it together (anyone seen Bowfinger? “keep-it-together-keep-it-together-keep-it-together-keep-it-together”)
–back to normal, still wishing and hoping for the energy of the next stage
All of this took place over the period of about 2 weeks. It was EXHAUSTING.
I was put on a medication, not an anti-depressant but a mood stabilizer, that has really helped me. My “normal” is not the energetic, super-woman that I had hoped, but at least it is consistent from day to day. I can honestly say that I cannot remember ever feeling this way. The cycles used to be spread out further when I was younger, but they were still there.
As a result of a lifetime of living this way, I was heaped up with loads of self-imposed guilt. Guilt that I couldn’t keep it together long-term. Guilt that I wasn’t able to muster up enough faith to get over it. You have to understand, not being in the mind of anyone else, I assumed that EVERYONE experienced the same mood swings as me, but was just able to handle it better. After all, we all have good and bad days, right? I said before that it was hard for me to hear the diagnosis, but on the flip side, it was a huge relief. I realized that wasn’t because I was lazy, or a bad mother, or a bad housekeeper, or a bad whatever, but that I was right in my deepest feeling that I really WAS NOT CAPABLE of keeping up with the rigors of life in a normal way.
One of the hardest things to come to terms with for me in this process is the connection between physiology and spirituality. For years I felt that if I only prayed enough, kept up my spiritual disciplines, had enough faith, etc., then God would change me. I don’t doubt that He can do that. But He didn’t. I later believed that if I only ran to Him every morning and submitted my day to Him, He would take this away. Doing this did help me cope better, but He didn’t take it away.
The more I started thinking about it, I considered the possibility that maybe this really was a physical disease. After all, if a child has a disorder of his brain chemistry, say autism, we don’t expect him to “pray it away,” right? In that sense, it’s easy to acknowledge that there is a physical issue and, yes, God can heal, and yes, methods can be used to help him cope with it, but it is still a MEDICAL issue.
You may be thinking that this is a really personal issue, and you may even wonder why I’m revealing so much about myself. But I wish that someone had told me their story long ago, and it would have led me to seek help sooner. I also want to dispel some of the myths of mental illness that are out there, and help people understand that you don’t have to appear outwardly “crazy” or severely depressed to be suffering.
So there you have it. The promised short story made long. 
Keep reading for more on my journey through the spiritual side of this, because yes, there is one of those, too.
