The number one thing that is searched for on my blog is dealing with family members who suffer from depression. I am not surprised, but it isn't a topic that I like writing about often - just one that has come up and that I have been honest about. Recently LE wrote a heart filled post about her brothers suicide. I wasn't going to write or respond, but over 60% of the searches are on dealing with depression so I thought I would share what little I know.
First just a peek at my mom:
My mother was diagnosed as manic depressive when I was 8 in the state mental hospital in California. She had been saved by a doctor there who recognized the symptoms and put her on lithium. She was a classic manic - now she would be called bipolar, but she was all manic!
I don't remember much about being with her when I was young because after 6 she was taken away, my parents divorced, and I didn't see much of her until her diagnoses and her release from the institution. She managed well with the medication, she was brilliant, bold, and brash. She told you like it was (I get that from her) and remained mostly mentally well for my the rest of her life.
She had three other episodes when doctors thought they would play with her medication, she would quickly think she was Jesus, could speak German, or was going to fly off to Texas to be with her sister - all while carrying an Oriental rug. After forcing doctors - this was my role as a grown up - to crush up her medication and shove it down her throat she would come out of it and be mom again.
It isn't to say that we didn't have our difficulties. She was jealous of my relationship with my Dad, she could be terribly mean, and she was self centered. All that and I still admired her. She battled demons that I can only have nightmares about. She was brave, facing them all by herself. And she loved. She loved passionately. She had more friends then I will ever have and she was immensely kind to those who needed her. When she didn't have two nickles she would give one to the Veterans and the other to Caesar Chavez.
As a child of a mentally ill parent though you develop skills or traits to protect yourself from the craziness happening around you. It is almost like you are building a very thick skin, walrus skin. Or the ability to react to situations like a soldier in combat.
The truth. It isn't easy.
The other big truth. The families don't get the necessary help to deal with it. I was never counseled, asked if I needed support, or had any professional check in with me. Either did my dad, sister or brother. Families are on their own. Sure, there are support groups now, but you are just trying to deal with whatever crazy moment is happening at home. You might not have time to check in with a group meeting. I personally think it is the big failure of the mental health industry. They treat the patient, but not the family. That commercial about depression hurting everyone - it does.
My advice. If you are struggling with the mental illness of someone else in your family seek help. Go to a counselor, therapist, minister, or support group. You don't have to be a lone soldier.
Soon I'll talk about suicide attempts, seasonal affective disorder and social anxiety... great fun over here.
Photo: That is my mom, I am in the little sailor suit holding the balloon. It is my 4th birthday, I think.
