The Reality of Life When A Loved One Has a Mental Illness

The day I feared is here.

My loved one who has a mental illness has been doing amazing for the past year and a half since hospitalization--the worst year of my family's life.

She is back to her old self once again.

Amazing what a change in medication can do for a person. This was the needed change after years on the same meds.

My loved one always took her meds, never missed a dose. But with age and being on the same meds for years her poor body couldn't handle it.

We have loved being able to breathe again.

We love having our loved one back!  Our loved one is so content and happy !

The only side effect is our loved one sleeps a great deal...is very tried all the time with little energy. It is complicated as we are not sure if it is age or a side effect of the meds.

Well I did a bit of research and unfortunately feel it is a side effect of the meds. Other heart tests our loved one had have revealed nothing. So it is probably due to the new meds.

My fear has always been that her psychiatrist would change her meds due to these side effects. We do not want to go through the hell we experienced 2 years ago. We want our loved one like we have her now. Balanced. Peaceful.

Well, my fears are realized....her psychiatrist changed her meds at her appointment this past week--Only by half a dose and only one of the pills. However we have no idea if this will change her personality again.

I am praying to my God that it will not.

I am crying out to my God to allow her to be who she is and to continue to experience this peace and balance while not experiencing these debilitating side effects.

I have to trust God.
I have to trust this psychiatrist.

It is very difficult to trust and not worry about something I have no control over.

The pain of the ordeal we experienced has surfaced again.

Yet I need to trust and leave this in the hands of God and the psychiatrist.

At least we are prepared if something does go terribly wrong.

We know the drill.

We know the sytem.

We know the pain.

We know we can get to the other side.

But if it should happen again our scars may not heal.

The Last Time I Cried

A beautiful human soul whom I now call friend, loves to ask unique questions. These questions bring conversations to a deeper level where honesty, vulnerability, non-judgement, transperency and love abide. He has actually begun a "Becoming Questions" series posting a new question each week. His question this week sparked a surprising response from me. I thought I would post it here on my blog. Without further adieu...

When was the last time you cried and why?

The last time I cried was last week in my car driving to work. I had to hold back the deep gutteral tears that were forming or I would not be able to see to drive and my contact lens would be blurry all day!  So I released some of the tears but not all.

I need desperately a good gutteral cry but don't have an alone place just yet where I am free to let it all out not worrying about the sounds that come out from deep in my soul.  I am not sure why those deep gutteral tears hit me that particular morning but they have been forming for a while. Why?

Weeping for the stress I have been under the last three years caring for my parents' illnesses. Weeping for the way it tore my family apart. I had to live through it, keep going, be strong, live life. Work. Grieve. No time to weep then.

Weeping for the restoration God brought to our family. A true miracle. Grateful to God.

Weeping for the resentment at having to let go of some of my life to help care for my parents. Weeping for the guilt because they have sacrificed so much for me over the years and have loved me unconditionally. The least I can do is care for them.

Weeping for this season of life. My time is precious with my parents. I don't want to lose them but that is the cycle of life. I am afraid to be left alone. I love them so deeply. The cycle of life continues on.

Weeping because I won't be a mother to my own children. Weeping at the anger towards God for not allowing me to experience a precious life growing inside me and raising that precious child.

Weeping at more anger towards God for not bringing that precious soul mate into my life even though I felt I have lived how He wanted me to live as  a Christian. I am definitely not perfect but I tried my best.

Weeping at these thoughts because I know God has given me a fabulous life and I have experienced so much!  I have not put my life on hold. I am grateful for my life.

Weeping because I am just plain overwelmed.

Clearly I need a gutteral release. And soon!  Funny how many of these same issues I am weeping over return to the forefront of my mind and I weep a little here and there. But I need that deep soul wrenching release. Praying I find a space where I can cry, really cry and be free.

Made it safely across the other side

The system failed our family.  The system fails most families having to deal with family members who wrestle with chronic mental illnesses.

However, the story does not end there.

It's been a long journey, from thinking we had to put our loved one into a nursing home to the doctors sending us home. After 3 weeks in the hospital, our loved one is home safe and sound.

 The story does not end there!

Two months since hospital release and our loved one is doing amazing-with a few minor setbacks- but overall amazing.

The story does not end there!

In the time of crisis I felt panicked and barely holding on questioning whether or not this journey would end, questioning why God was allowing this to happen to our family.  Now, on the other side, I am forgetting how terrifying this ordeal was. Funny how that is.  Thankful I forget.

But the story does not end there!

What I do remember is how God's hand was upon us the entire time.  He showed up in big and small ways...

From the moment the police arrived at the scene.  They showed amazing care and sensitivity. They immediately knew they were dealing with someone with a mental illness so called for the special police crisis mental health team-a new initiative with our local police department.  Within minutes this team arrived and were phenomenal with our loved one.

From the moment our loved one was admitted to the hospital-after a few technicalities that needed to be addressed! The nurses and doctors were incredible. In addition, God showed up in a big way by having my close friend in charge of the mental health floor the night our loved one was admitted. She had to be reassigned. However, I know our loved one received excellent care because my friend is highly respected and her staff knew our loved one was a close friend! Our loved one was deeply cared for and the staff supported the family incredibly well, despite the legalities of the mental health act.

From the moment my friends supported us practically by bringing by meals and praying for our loved one.

From the moment a care plan was put in place for our loved one's release, which we felt was too soon and were afraid.

But the story does not end there.

Easing our fear of a relapse, we had the police mental health crisis team, and community agencies follow up to see how all of us were doing.

We were referred to a family support group, which I am still currently attending. It has always been my desire to help other families who have loved ones with mental illnesses because there are practically zero resources for family members. This group has been a God-send.  I was encouraged the other day when one of the group members shared with me how hope-filled she is about her loved one who can lead a normal life now after hearing my story. God's hand. Grateful.

The story does not end there because we may have future setbacks with our loved one. But we are more prepared and we have a plan in place. We have been able to be more open with our friends and family helping to reduce the stigma.  We are hopeful.

We made it safely across the other side witnessing God's hand in this entire journey. I still don't have the answers as to why God has allowed this to happen to our family, but do know there is a reason and I need to trust my God.

The story does not end there.
The story will continue...

The Other Side of the Story: honest, raw, transparent musings about the effect of mental illness on families

I can't remember the moment I began to fear my loved one.  But I remember with great clarity the way this fear made me feel. A rush of thoughts ran through my mind rapidly with panic in its undertone.

"Remember this is her illness." 
"Oh my dear God, my loved one may injure me."
 "Remember this is her illness, it is not personal." 
"Oh my dear God, protect my family." 
"Remember this is her illness." 
"Oh my dear God I cannot call the police on my loved one."
"Remember this is her illness talking." 
"Oh my dear God, help us." 
"Oh my dear God, look into her eyes. They are empty, blank, evil, confused. This is not my loved one standing before me." 
"Remember this is her illness." 
"Oh my dear God, she hates me, her flesh and blood who would do anything for her." 
"Oh my dear God, what are those words coming out of her mouth - horrifying, abusive words she doesn't  know what she is saying." 
"Remember this is not personal, it is her illness, this blasted disease." 
"Oh my dear God, she is saying she wants to end her life."
 "Remember this is her illness." 
"Don't let your fear give you away. Stay calm." 
"Remember this is her illness. It is not her fault."
 "It is not your fault." 
"Keep loving her. Don't stop. Pray you won't remember these terrifying, damaging times." 
"It is her illness taking over her precious mind."

I hate this disease. It is so unfair that it attacks beautiful humans and latches on with all its might. They did nothing to deserve this horrible illness. I hate how it destroys the lives of families. I hate how it destroys and torments the lives of precious humans. I hate there is still a stigma surrounding it. I hate that I have had to keep it secret out of respect for my loved one and for my family.  I can no longer.

The pain is too much.  It is a silent killer. I am slowly watching my loved one die- that vivacious, caring, compassionate, gregarious, organized woman has ceased.

 I hate that as a family our hands are tied and we cannot get our loved one the help she needs until it seems it would be too late.   I understand the Mental Health Act was put in place to stop abuse but it is now hindering families from helping their loved ones. Unless we take drastic measures we have to sit and wait.

And watch.

Watch the frightened look deep in our loved one's eyes and soul. 
Watch her paranoia worsen.  
Watch the helpless feeling she is experiencing but cannot express.  
Watch the depths of her soul know something is terribly wrong with her but for some reason is refusing to get the help she needs.

Over the years our loved one has managed her bipolar disorder. However, as she has aged, specifically this past year, she has not been managing it well at all.

Families are forgotten. In the mismanagement of the disorder, families suffer greatly, if not more, in my opinion. We have to learn to cope with it and constantly figure out the new "mystery" rules our loved one has put in place.  We constantly have to "walk on eggshells" out of fear of what our loved one may do. We constantly are trying to repair fractured friendships.  We are constantly trying to solve embarrassing situations. We are constantly having to sort out the practical living issues that arise due to her illness.  I have to watch my other family members have breakdowns and likewise they have to witness my meltdowns when the stress is too much.  We constantly have to hear horrifying words that pierce straight to our heart and pray they are not absorbed into our spirit.

The way we have learned to cope in order to live with this precious loved one with a horrible disease doesn't always work.  We are learning new ways to cope and learning how to change some of our strategies that have not been useful. However, when it comes to family, it is emotional. So we have to do what needs to be done in order to survive.

We are learning it is okay to share our pain with our community of friends and is not being disrespectful to our loved one. We have to allow these wonderful people sharing this journey with us to make their own conclusions. So we have been pleasantly surprised at the acceptance rather than the judgemental, hurtful stigma we have experienced in the past.  We are grateful they still love our loved one and see past this illness to the true person she was created to be sharing space on this planet.

My exhortation to those of you reading this post is this:

As you walk past a person who seems out of sorts and you want to dismiss them as being crazy, 
think of their family. 

If you are afraid of someone with a mental illness, think of their family. 

And don't be  frightened. They are more like you than you realize.  They are just trapped inside their mind with a horrible disease.

But think of their family.  Their family is just like yours.  No different.

Imagine the suffering their families are having to endure. 

Show compassion not fear.

Offer a genuine smile.

And think of their families.

This is the other side of the story.

****UPDATE****

In the middle of writing this post, our loved one was admitted to the hospital. The police actually picked her up yesterday for driving dangerously (Another blessing because she cannot blame us for taking her to the hospital). It is a long story (and miraculously no one was hurt or killed), but God had every detail in place.  We feel tremendously relieved she is getting the help she needs. It has been difficult to watch but we know she is in good hands now. It has been what we have been praying for all summer. She is safe. We are safe.  We are praying as her mind and body heal she will diligently keep on the meds prescribed to her so she will get back to living her life to the fullest as a "beautiful human person." (Pip Wilson)