The World of the Living!

I am writing this particular post because I am so happy to be feeling better....finally!  I also hope to encourage those who have bipolar disorder to seek help and to not give up.  I have sought help several times in my adult life.  As I have mentioned once or twice before, one of my bad habits is being a quitter.  I went to several different doctors who tried me on what feels like tons of different treatment plans.  I either felt no difference, I felt more tired and fatigued, or I was so anxious that I couldn't make it through the day without screaming somebody's head off or having a panic attack.  I would try a medication, it wouldn't work, I would give up on not only the medication but the doctor as well.  I felt myself getting worse and worse.

I have had some really low points during my bipolar disorder.  I am here to be brutally honest, so here we go.  I have spent a night in jail and almost lost my kids because of my disorder.  I let the mania and depression of my disease run my life.  My husband is the sole provider for our household, but I handled the finances (which was a HORRIBLE idea to give financial responsibility to an untreated bipolar person).  I was not managing our money well.  I was afraid of disappointing my husband or telling me that we didn't have enough money for "this or that".  We were living way beyond our means.  We finally ran out of credit, so I wrote several bad checks.  Of course, I wasn't able to pay them so they were turned over to the district attorney's office.  An investigator knocked on my door and informed me that I was going to jail.  I was home alone with my kids, so I had to call my best friend to come get my kids.  How embarrassing!  That was the most horrible phone call I have ever made, with the exception of having to call my husband at work and tell him.  He had no idea that we had no money and that I had written bad checks.  I was good at covering.  I was so ashamed and disappointed that my kids went through that.  That was not the example I wanted to set for them.  I felt like a complete failure as a mother.  Well, the day I was arrested (thank God he did handcuff me because of the kids and I wasn't a threat) was a holiday.  The courthouse was closed.  I couldn't get out until the full amount of my checks and fees were paid in the District Attorney's office.  In my county, you can't bail out of jail for bad checks...the ENTIRE amount must be paid before you are free to go.  Thank God for my grandparents.  They paid everything for me the very next morning.  That was the worst night of my life.  It was in November and I remember it being so cold.  I felt like all the blood had drained out of my body.  I cried so much.  I didn't eat or drink anything while I was there.  I didn't sleep at all.  I did pray....a lot.  All I could think about was my kids and my husband.  I was so afraid when I got out my husband would be gone.  He wasn't.  He forgave me and he loved me through it all.  I had to have a long, difficult talk with my children.  This all happened back in 2008.

That was still not enough.  I was on and off all sorts of anti-depressants, mood stabilizers, anxiety medication, sleep medication, and even "phenergan" (an anti-nausea medication) because I was sick at my stomach all the time from anxiety and worry.  I contemplated suicide so many times.  I knew in my heart I could never actually do it though.  I could never-ever leave my family like that.  I couldn't do it to them.  Trust me, I thought of all the ways I could though.  I even called myself a coward one time because I couldn't just do it.  I spent nights praying that I would just die, so my family wouldn't hate me....car wreck, cancer, some mysterious disease that would make me just go to sleep and never wake up, shot and killed by some stranger, etc...  I wanted to die, just not by my own doing.  I didn't want to "look bad" and I didn't want my family to hate me for it.  

I reached the point where I felt dead....like a zombie.  For months, I didn't want to even get up.  I literally had to make myself shower.  I know it sounds gross.  I did shower though, I just really didn't want to.  I was embarrassed to smell bad, so I knew it was a necessity.  That was all I did as far as outward appearance went.  I put on deodorant and that was it!  I stopped caring what I looked like.  I didn't fix my hair or wear any make up at all...ever.  I didn't care what I wore or what my clothes looked like...stained, wrinkled, whatever.  There were days I would stay in my pajamas all day long if I didn't have to go anywhere.  I have even been known to take my son to school (didn't have to get out of the car to take him through the drop off and pick up line) in my jammies.  I would take him to school, come home and sit on the couch until my youngest son's naptime, I would nap with him, then we would go get my oldest son from school, I would help him with homework, and then I was done for the day because my husband came home.  I sat on the couch the rest of the evening.  I didn't cook, we ate take out or things that didn't require cooking all the time.  Staples in my kitchen were ravioli, any type of Chef Boyardee, ramen noodles, and sandwich stuff.  I didn't want to go do anything.  I didn't want to go outside.  I wasn't playing with my kids, but I would watch tv with them....that was about it.  I did the bare necessities to survive.  I didn't want to see friends or even talk to them.  

During my deep period of depression, I did develop an addiction....Facebook.  Since I never went anywhere or talked to anybody, I could be whomever I wanted to be on Facebook.  I would write cheerful posts and talk about my kids all the time.  I projected this wonderful mom, loving wife, happy, and cheerful person who was so content with life.  Oh, it worked, people told me all the time what a good person I was.  It did make me feel better that people still thought of me that way, but in reality it was all a lie.  My kids were taken care of...always.  I always loved them and they always had what they needed physically.  However, I wasn't there for them the way I should have been.  They saw a lazy mom who didn't want to do anything with them.  We had no fun together.  I told them all the time that I loved them, but what did I do to really show them?  A low point for me was when my son brought home a book he made in kindergarten.  It was for Mother's Day.  He drew pictures and wrote about his mom.  That page that said, "My mom likes to......." he wrote "sleep".  The page that said, "My mom is good at......." he just left the page blank.  I sat and cried.  I was a shell of a person.  I felt like I was dead inside.  I had no joy...at all.  I wasn't going to church anymore, I wasn't even praying anymore.  I tried to go to church one time, but I felt so hostile against being there the whole time.  I was very bitter.  I began to fear that my husband would leave if things didn't change and that he would take the boys with him.  

Finally, hope!  I decided NO MORE!  I was not going to be a prisoner in my own body held captive by my illness.  I needed my family and I couldn't lose them.  I found a wonderful doctor.  He changed my life.  He is an older doctor and has been in practice for years so he had a good reputation....everybody loved him.  The first time I visited him, he told me at the end of the exam these words:  "I am not here to push anything on anybody, but I tell all my new patients so they know.  I don't want to make you uncomfortable and I will never mention it again if you wish.  I am a firm believer in religion, faith, and God.  I believe everybody needs to have faith in something, everybody needs hope.  Anytime you want me to pray with you before you leave my office, I will say a prayer with you.  I pray for all my patients and you will be in my prayers."  I have never-ever had a visit like that.  I was so thankful and he had my trust from that moment on. 

We did have to try several different medications.  However, I didn't give up this time.  I fought!  I chose to fight for my husband, for my kids, and for myself.  I was not going to continue living that way and I was not going to wake up one day when my kids were grown and realize that I was a terrible mom.  I didn't want to mess up their lives.  I wanted to be there for my kids....really be there for my kids.  I got my emotions back.  I felt the love for my husband again and felt so terrible that I had been such a bad wife to him.  I was not there for him at all.  I didn't take care of him at all.  He did so much for me and put up with so much, but he never once left my side.  I saw his frustration and I knew I pushed him to his limit sometimes, but he never left.  I started wanting to do things with my kids.  I was praying again.  I had faith in God again.  I had a lot of desire in my now and knew the direction I wanted my life to go, but I still wasn't quite there.  I still didn't know where to start.  I still didn't have enough "umph" to do it all.  I knew I was almost there though. 

FINALLY!  My doctor finally found a treatment plan that worked for me.  We had to work for a couple of months to get the dosage right, but finally I feel pretty normal!  I am on a mood stabilizer once daily and I have a prescription for my anxiety attacks as needed.  Since my mood stabilizer is at the right dosage, I don't even take the anxiety medication much anymore.  Most of the time I only take 2-3 per week.  I finally found a good doctor who knew what he was doing and a doctor that I developed trust with.  I trusted that my doctor would help me and that there was a treatment plan that would help me.  It worked.  I have so much energy now.  I still have days that are not so great, but what person, even those with no mental illness, do not have bad days.  I am active with my kids now and we have fun!  Mommy doesn't just sit on her rear saying "no" all the time.  We go outside, we go to the park, they go on playdates with my friends' children, we sit and read books together, we play games together, and we have fun!  I feel like my husband is my husband again, not just some guy living in my house taking care of my kids.  We have our romance back and I am doing things to take care of him.  I am making his lunch, getting his clothes ready for work where all he has to do is grab it and put it on, and making sure he has all he needs to get off to work in the mornings. We going out to do things HE wants to do like taking the family to the river to fish and going camping.  I make him dinner.  I even make him a plate and bring it to him!  I take care of myself for him.  I don't wear make-up every single day, but I make an effort to look nice for him.  When we go out in public, I especially try to look presentable.  I have my family back and my life back!  I am overall, generally happy now!  Not just on Facebook, but in real life. 

I have one more goal I want to work toward.  My bipolar disorder and refusal to treat it properly has cost me many jobs.  I have had approximately 15 jobs in a 10 years.  The longest lasted a year and a half.  The shortest lasted only 2 weeks.  My average for holding a job was about 3-6 months.  I have went to school and dropped out so many times.  Somehow I managed to get an Associate's Degree.  I ruined my college record and financial aid in my attempts at a Bachelor's Degree.  I "blew" all of my chances at the only four year university that is near and that I would be able to attend.  I am "academically bankrupt".  I have been looking for a job, but it is very difficult.  I don't have a lot of experience, a terrible job history, and bad credit.  Not to mention it's hard for well qualified people to find a job in this economy!  I am praying for a job opportunity so I can rebuild my ability to go into the workforce and help contribute to my family's income. 

It's been a very long and hard road, but I feel like I am on the right path now.  My message is that no matter what you are going through, whether it be mental illness or anything else....there is hope!  You can't ever give up!  No matter what your darkest low is, you can come back from it.  I am far from perfect and I still have a long journey ahead of me.  I'm not disillusioned that things will be easy for the rest of my life.  I know I will have to live with and deal with my bipolar disorder for the rest of my life, but with my family by my side and the Good Lord on my side....I can do anything!  I want to leave you with this statement from my doctor.  "Your diagnosis doesn't define you as a person.  You are still you!  You are not crazy and you are not in a place where you can't be helped.  You have a disease, the same as somebody with diabetes or high blood pressure.  This does not change who you are as a person and with the proper medication you can be an even better you!"

Dilemmas of Being a Bipolar Mother

Today was a great day for me.  I was such a proud mommy.  My son started baseball practice.  He was stepping up this year from tee ball to baseball.  It is a big transition.  My son is so much like me.  I see so many of my traits in him.  He is a very shy child and doesn't make friends easily.  If somebody doesn't want to play with him right in that moment, he thinks they don't like him.  He gets upset and sad about it.  He doesn't just "get" things on the first try.  He has to practice, practice, practice.  If something is difficult he gets frustrated and disappointed in himself.  He has been brought to tears many days doing homework because the concept was not getting through to him.  He doesn't recieve criticism well.  He takes it to heart and takes it very personally.  I don't want him to be like his mommy....a quitter.  I will admit, I am a quitter.  When things get tough, I quit.  I also sabotage myself.  If I am doing well at something and I am so close to finishing my goal, I quit.  I am working in this in myself and I don't want my son to start this horrible, terrible habit.  If he doesn't do well at something he get very upset with himself, he feels like a failure.  I am constantly reassuring him.  I have felt like a failure in so many ways, which you will read about if you follow my blog...it will be covered in depth in future postings.  I have a very low self-esteem.  I am his cheerleader, always telling him how well he does and encouraging him to keep trying, to keep fighting. 

All of this being said, to give a little bit of insight given into my child and myself, today was his big day.  It was the first day of practice for my seven year old son.  He stepped on the field to start practice grounding balls and throwing.  This didn't worry me, he is pretty good at fielding the ball.  Next, they head to the batting cage. I start to get anxiety.  The coach lines up all of the children along the side of the batting cage.  His instruction is for all the kids to watch as each child has their turn so they might learn something.  Logan wasn't anxious, he was in line having fun with his friends and excited about his turn.  When he went in for his time up at bat, I think my heart was beating "ninety to nothing".  I was nervous.  "What if he doesn't do well?  What if he gets upset because he did horrible?  What if the other children laugh at him?  What if the coach yells at him?"  I was so afraid he would be disappointed in himself or embarrassed if he didn't do well.  The other kids who were first year baseball players that had just moved up from tee ball hadn't done so well thus far.  He stepped up to that plate, fearless!  He took his stance and then he amazed his daddy, the coach, and his mommy!  He did so awesome.  He didn't miss hardly any balls at all.  He did just fine.

It made me start doing some deep thinking.  Am I sheltering my child?  I was so afraid that he would fail and he did just fine!  Do I let him take enough chances or do I keep his potential at bay because I am afraid he won't succeed or excel?  Am I robbing him of experiences?  All children need to take chances.  They need to fail.  That is part of life.  He needs to learn to deal with it and learn to not be a quitter.  How is he going to do this, if he is babied?  I need to take a step back and let him start figuring things out on his own.  My fear that he will turn out like me is creating the effect I am trying to prevent.  By sheltering him, I am not teaching him to be a fighter (of course not physically, but you know what I mean!) and not afraid to take chances. 

I can let go and let my child have this independence because I do with my youngest son.  I see how strong my husband is.  He is not a quitter and he is a fighter.  He is the person I wish I could be.  He doesn't care what others think of him, he knows who he is, and he stands up for what he believes in.  My youngest son is just like his daddy, even at the age of 5.  I don't worry and fuss over him like I do my oldest.  I know he can handle the occasional failure.  He dusts himself off, deals with it very well, and doesn't let it get to him.  He is a quick learner.  He doesn't have to work very hard to "get things"...they come natural to him.  This is in sports and in education.  He can make friends so easily.  I know you don't know who will become as an adult at age 5, but he knows who he is right now in this moment!  He is a very confident child.  I don't worry about him like I do my oldest! 

I need to have faith that my oldest will be ok and that he is strong enough.  Maybe he doesn't feel confident because I don't give him those chances to shine.  If I think he won't be able to do something, I don't even let him try in order to save him from feeling defeated.  I must make a change, now!  I am projecting my feelings onto him.  I love my son and I want him to have a good life.  I want him to be filling over with confidence and good feelings about himself. 

Bipolar is a hereditary disease.  It runs rampant in my maternal family.  My mother was severely bipolar.  As you know from my previous post, it is not talked about in my family.  I was never told that I may need to seek help for bipolar disorder.  One time in high school I seriously contemplated suicide.  I had everything I could have wanted from my grandparents.  They spent so much money on me, but I felt alone.  I was so afraid of failure that I wanted to kill myself because I just knew I was going to fail a report that was going to be the majority of my grade for the class.  I was that afraid to be a failure.  I ended up making a "B" on the report and an "A" in the class!  Nobody knew this and I have never talked about it until now.  My mother had severe mood swings and I blamed myself.  I was starting to have severe mood swings around my children and I said "NO!"  My children deserve better and so does my husband.  I sought help.  I would not be like the rest of my family and live in denial.  I would get help.  My life is so different now.  It's still a struggle, but I am such a better person now than I was before. 

So, here is my question of the day!  This especially goes out to bipolar moms, but I want comments from all of you. When do you talk to your children about bipolar disease?  Do you wait until they show the classic symptoms?  Do you make a preemptive strike and get them psychological help when they are young?  My fear is that my children will have bipolar disorder and I wish I could take it away from them.  I don't want them to struggle like I have.  I don't want them to have to deal every single day of their life with the complications of bipolar disorder. Any thoughts here are welcome!  That's all for tonight!  Thank you for reading my blog!

The Wild and Crazy Ride Of A Mom Living With Bipolar Disorder: Welcome!

The Wild and Crazy Ride Of A Mom Living With Bipolar Disorder: Welcome!: "I would like to welcome you if you are reading this blog. I have worked this evening on getting my blog set up, so I will not be posti..."

Welcome!

I would like to welcome you if you are reading this blog.  I have worked this evening on getting my blog set up, so I will not be posting tonight.  However, stay tuned because I will be posting soon.  I communicate best through written text.  I am not the best on expressing myself verbally, hence the blogger name Shy Ruby Lynn!
In my "neck of the woods" mental illness is very taboo.  It's not talked about and if you do talk about it, then you are labeled the "neighborhood crazy".  Any mistake you make and any choice you make is analyzed and it all comes back to "Well, she is crazy you know".  I often feel like the lepers in the Old Testament, but thank the dear Lord I can hide my lesions.  Only my very close friends know of my illness and the struggles I have faced.  They know my journey, only them.  I can't even talk to my family about it.  The only family member who knows is my husband, who has been very supportive.  My grandmother is in denial that she has any type of mental defect and so is my aunt.  They have coped through extra-marital affairs, prescription drugs (none of which are treatments for bipolar disorder), alcohol, and spending lavish amounts of money.  My other aunt has been institutionalized before when she had a mental breakdown, but that of course is not talked about.  I don't see her much and I am not sure about how she copes or if she even deals with her mental disorder.  I see the outward appearance she portrays to everybody...the nice house with a pool, nice vehicles, seemingly perfect children with the best of everything, and a wonderful husband.  Things are not perfect, but I don't know how things truely are because it's not up for discussion.  My mother was diagnosed bipolar.  She never found a medication that made her feel better, so she finally stopped trying.  I love my mother dearly so anything I say about her is not done in malice and should not be misconstrued.  I am here to speak the truth, otherwise what is the point?  My mother had severe mood swings.  She coped through food.  It affected her health tremendously and I lost my mother at the young age of 17, a pivotal time in my life.  She was only 41.
I feel like I need a place to share my story and to get my feelings out there.  I want to connect with people.  This is why I chose blogging.  I hope that my blog can help and inspire somebody.  There will be blogs about dealing with the grief process of losing my mother, being the caretaker of elderly grandparents (one of which has undiagnosed bipolar disease and is now dealing with undiagnosed dementia and possible Alzheimer's disease), being a single income home in this economy, my devotion to the institution of marriage and the love for my husband, and the joys and hardships of raising two boys.  There are so many things that I have to write about, not just focusing on bipolar disorder.  I hope you will follow and read my blog.  My goal is to help somebody and also to help myself heal.  Thank you for clicking on my blog and I hope you will follow the adventures of my very complicated life!  I promise laughs and tears, but always only the blunt and honest truth about my life.  Feel free to ask any questions or leave any comments....anytime, any blog post!  Once again, WELCOME!