The Same, Only Different
I had originally planned to post on whatever subject corresponds to the item I'm giving away each day, but I'm at a loss as to what in the world I could give away relating to mental illness. The only things I could come up with are illegal (free Adderall and Concerta for all! No, not really, no.). I had also planned for today to be an environmental post, giving away Diane MacEachern's book Big Green Purse, but with my current frame of mind, an informational, yet subjective, post about bipolar disorder came out instead. Ergo, I have nothing yet planned for today's giveaway. The environment and Big Green Purse will be rescheduled for Tuesday.
I mentioned the other day that I was reading to catch up on a blog written by an incredible woman who has a bipolar teenager (as well as a normally-functioning adult son). I mentioned yesterday that life had thrown another curveball, which almost always includes my bipolar son.
So many of her posts left me breathless, simply because it made me think, "Hey! We're not alone!" or "I didn't imagine this. Other people have had this happen, too."
Some things that I've either realized, but now have the knowledge that I'm not alone, or things that I've recognized by reading her blog:
Youngest is triggered by therapy sessions. We've wondered for a year or more why, when his therapy sessions would be progressing calmly and well, we were suddenly confronted by "the monster" before we even hit the highway headed back home. He is responding to and relieving himself of the anxiety that his sessions cause him.
We are lucky that, financially, we can choose any doctor we want without the constraints of insurance (we've never filed his visits because his doc is out-of-network), and we can afford the specialized private school that Youngest attends. Distance is not a problem; I drive about 1000 miles per week for school and therapy (individual for Youngest and for me, and a family therapist, as well).
We are more challenged than others because Youngest has two siblings who are pretty close in age to him. They definitely trigger him a good deal, and their reactions to him and his illness play a large part in the explosive dynamics of our family. Every decision we make, we have to weigh how it will affect each of the five of us, as well as the family unit.
When Youngest yells in the heat of battle that we "just don't understand," he's right. As much as I read on the subject, and talk to other parents of bp kids, and stay abreast of medications and his therapy, I don't understand all it entails to be him. On some level I wish I did, but mostly I know how lucky I am that I don't.
No matter how hard or long or loudly I try to force him to reason, he cannot do it. He will not be able to do it; he is not wired to reason, for good or for ill.
Our life is far from normal, and one day, it may become even less so. We've talked about the possibility of locking away foods high in carbs (bipolar kids crave carbs like no other); because of Youngest's lack of self-regulation, he can easily eat a 16-oz. jar of my homemade organic jelly or a bag of Newman-O's in two sittings or a huge can of Ovaltine in three days. One day, we may have to lock away the steak knives and kitchen knives, or things that make fire, because of same lack of self-regulation.
Waking up a bipolar child is a nightmare. It's not just mine. Their sleep cycles are often severely fucked up, for lack of a more appropriate medical term. The first attempt to wake Youngest happens at 6:30 a.m. Most often, five trips into his room and thirty minutes later, he's finally up. Then he has just twenty minutes to have some sort of breakfast, get dressed, take his meds, brush his teeth. Mornings suck.
Now, just because we know these things, doesn't mean we always do the right things with that knowledge. I, especially, struggle with Youngest's hostility & rages, because although I get the brunt of 98% of his rages, he was almost unnaturally attached to me for 8-10 years. I also struggle because being in the same room with him is exactly like being in the room with my ex-husband; I therefore spend a lot of time with him in uncomfortable silence, breathing in shallow breaths while my heart beats like a hummingbird's wings because I'm afraid to speak and trip a land mine.
We've now been two days off his Concerta, the ADHD medication. Because they are stimulants, medications like Concerta (et al) can worsen any manic symptoms that are there. And because children's and, often, adolescents', manic symptoms manifest as irritability which swings to rage, that's a very bad thing. But, because his sleep rhythm is severely screwed, Youngest is all but comatose for most of the day, as well as silly and inattentive. I can't win.
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