There Will Be No Casserole

I'm not doing so well right now. Once again, I've only gotten about 10 hours of sleep total in the past two weeks. This is after going with only 25 hours of sleep in a month about six weeks ago. It seems like my body has forgotten how to sleep. Difficulty sleeping has always been one of my issues. Bipolar disorder and OCD play a role in that. And there are some physical health problems, like severe chronic pain, that contribute to my inability to sleep as well. We have been unable to find a medication that works for this. I saw a new psychiatrist last Tuesday. He told me he didn't know what to do for me. We can try one more medication, but there is no guarantee that it will help. He believes that the one medication that I am currently on (and I'm only on one medication for bipolar disorder right now) is my best shot at sleeping and stabilizing my moods. I've already been taking it for two months now. He said that I could go into the hospital to get my body "reset", that they can give me something that I wouldn't be able to take as an outpatient, just to get some sleep. I've already gone down that road, too many times to count. True, they can knock me out, so much so that I usually end up wetting the bed, which means that they will prop me up on a shower chair and bathe me in the middle of the night because I am too sedated to do so myself, and then tuck me back into bed. After three days of this, I will be sent home to continue on medications which aren't working for me and within a week, I'm right back where I started. That is if they will even admit me to the hospital in the first place. It is almost impossible to be admitted if you are not suicidal, with a definite plan for taking your own life. When you're manic and unable to sleep or eat, dealing with racing thoughts and physical restlessness to the point where you can't even sit still, you're more often than not told that you just have to ride it out because those symptoms are not severe enough to require hospitalization. This has been my life since this past September.

I have also been hospitalized for numerous physical health problems in the last 20 years. I've been in for a severe flare-up of ulcerative colitis, pneumonia, hemorrhaging, a TIA, and more. I've had 17 surgeries in the past 20 years. So, why am I telling you all of this? Not to whine or complain. I know that there are others out there who have experienced this, or worse. But I want to shed light on yet another difference between how mental health and physical health are viewed differently still to this day.

I was reflecting back on all of the times I've been hospitalized for a physical health condition. Let's take the time I had pneumonia and was in the hospital for five days for example. I think that I received three or four "Get Well Soon" cards. I had several friends come to visit me. Others called to check up on me. When I was discharged home, the ladies from my church arranged for people to bring me meals for the first week I was home. Usually casseroles! But they were wonderful, and greatly appreciated. I still had very little energy when I initially got home from the hospital. Even something as simple as getting dressed wore me out. So the meals were a tremendous help. I also had someone volunteer to come over and help me with the laundry and cleaning when I first got home. These same things happened when I was hospitalized for my surgeries. Lots of people were there to step up and help.

But, that never happened following a psychiatric hospitalization. Now, before I go on, I will say that I have not always notified friends and family when I'm admitted to the psychiatric unit. I typically notify four or five close friends, and my family, but give them the permission to share with others where I am. That is in part due to the fact that the use of a phone (you cannot have your own cell phone with you) is more restricted and the number of phone calls and the length of your phone calls is monitored by the staff. Also, visiting hours are more limited than those for the medical units. And, as much as I hate to admit this, part of it is due to shame. There are times that I still feel "less than" due to my mental illnesses. Now, back to my point. I get the feeling that a lot of people still look at psychiatric hospitalizations as kind of a "retreat", for lack of a better word. I mean, you get fed. They help you sleep and encourage rest. Your day to day responsibilities are temporarily put on hold. You are encouraged not to worry about your job, your family, or any other potential stressor while you are inpatient. You are there to focus on you, your needs, and to as I mentioned earlier, "reset" yourself. That's all well and good. And that is what I need when I'm there. But I don't leave the hospital ready to conquer the world. If there has been a change in my medication, it takes about 4-6 weeks for the new medication to fully take effect. The fatigue lingers. The ability to complete even the most basic of daily tasks like brushing my teeth still challenges me. I don't always have it in me to jump right back into my daily life and do my own cooking and cleaning. I have never had someone offer to bring me a meal following a psychiatric hospitalization. I have never had someone offer to help me with my housecleaning, or volunteer to run errands for me. I have only ever received two "Get Well Cards" from friends, over a period of 22 years of dealing with my bipolar disorder, OCD, and PTSD.

I'm not writing this with the intention of making anyone feel guilty. I'm writing this to say that even in 2018, mental health and mental illness are still more often than not, "awkward" and uncomfortable to talk about. We worry that we won't know the "right" thing to say to someone who is anxious or depressed, or someone who has attempted to take their own life. We may want to help, but hold back out of the fear of insulting the individual or making them feel like they are incapable of taking care of themselves. Some of us may think that the best thing for someone who has just been released from an inpatient unit is to jump back into life and their responsibilities; we don't want to see them just sitting around, doing nothing. Mental illnesses are still not handled the way that physical illnesses are. And that needs to change. Fortunately, there are organizations out there, like NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness), and MHA (Mental Health America), and others that are working hard to increase awareness of mental health issues and to fight the powerful stigma against having a mental illness. I have to do my part too, by not being ashamed or apologize for my mental illness. I have to be willing to ask for help. But, sometimes, a casserole would be nice. Or help with daily tasks. At least initially, when I get home from the hospital. I guess what I'm trying to say to you is don't be afraid to reach out and ask if it's okay to provide a meal. Or even just come over and sit and talk for an hour. It's not an insult. It's not doing something for someone that they should be doing for themselves, any more than it is when I have ankle surgery and am non-weight bearing for six weeks. It's okay to talk about it. No, it's imperative that we talk about it.

Happy Mother's Day?

Well, here we are. Sunday, May 13, 2018. Mother's Day. My Facebook page was flooded with Mother's Day tributes. Friends honoring their own mothers and grandmothers. Friends being celebrated by their children. Everyone seemed to be happy. The stores have been stocked with greeting cards, flowers, candy, and jewelry for the past month. There are cards for first time mothers, mothers-to-be, husbands honoring their wives for doing an amazing job raising their children, mothers and grandmothers in heaven, silly cards for little ones to give to their moms...and just plain old generic "I love you" cards, and a few other miscellaneous cards mixed in.

I found myself thinking tonight about all of those women for whom Mother's Day is a bittersweet holiday. And I found myself wondering where all of the cards for them are kept. I personally know two women whose children were murdered within the past two years. Where is the card for that? Where is the card for the mother whose child has committed suicide? Where is the card for the woman whose child is miscarried or stillborn? Where is the card for the mothers whose children are in NICU clinging to their lives? Or for the mothers whose children are being abused by their fathers, uncles, grandfathers, babysitters, strangers? The mothers who are watching their children struggle with addiction? The mothers whose children have run away from home? What about all of the single moms, trying to balance work, childcare, school, and home? What about the mothers whose husbands are deployed to Afghanistan? I've never seen a card for the woman who deeply longs to be a mother but for any number of reasons, can't. What about the woman who felt that there was no way she could be a "good" mother and made the difficult decision to terminate the pregnancy?  Or those women who, after giving birth, knew the best thing for their child was to give them up for adoption in the hopes that their child would have a much better life than they themselves could provide?  There are no cards for the thousands and thousands of women who are foster mothers or temporary guardians. I couldn't find any cards for those who have strained relationships with their mothers and for whom those "You are the best mother in the world!" cards don't reflect their reality. There are no cards for the mothers whose children have been removed from the home by DCS. Or the mothers who lose custody of their children in a bitter divorce. And then there are those women who make a conscious choice not to have children and not to be mothers - not to not take on what is "expected" of them. And...I know that I'm still leaving some out.

To all of those women out there who are rocking it as moms, my hat is off to you! Raising children takes a lot of blood, sweat, and tears. I'm not trying to take anything away from that or to imply that mothers don't deserve to be recognized and honored for the millions of things they do for their children every day. I'm simply wanting to acknowledge that for some, this day is one of longing for, remembering, second guessing, and wondering what if things had been different. Today, in the midst of celebrating my mother, grandmothers, aunts, cousins, sisters-in-law, and siblings, I set aside some time to honor those women for whom Mother's Day is one of the hardest days of the year.