One of my colleagues came home to extend his condolences a couple of weeks after Day 0. His son is 18 years of age and for the last 2 years he has not really spoken with anyone. He has no friends. He comes home from school, goes straight to his room and plays video games for hours, sometimes up to 12 hours! He refuses to see a psychiatrist. Interestingly, his mother does not want a diagnosis as she feels that the ‘label’ will drive the son to end his life. Notably, the father is a doctor and the mother is a nurse. This is how bad the stigma is, even within the medical profession.

Today I watched Margaret Trudeau being interviewed about her struggle with Bipolar disorder.  [ https://bipolardyke.wordpress.com/bipolar-film-music/ ]
She is a canadian author, actress and photographer who is now in her 60s and has spent most of her life dealing with this illness. She says, the first thing to do is to accept that there is an illness, secondly, appoint an advocate, as the person in question is not of sound mind and most importantly, talk about it. The more we talk about it the better the understanding.

A lot of children suffer terribly from mental illness but their families keep quiet about it. This problem is very common. There needs to be an overhaul of the system and more help given to the relatives.

I know there is enough compassion in the world for us to feel free to talk about it. Let’s do it.

Looking through my picture gallery, this one seemed to match my inner landscape closely. Often there are no words. The ones that are there are just not good enough. What is left to say? What is the point anyway? It is just what it is. At this point I feel strangely free. I have no fear of loosing anything anymore. Nothing seems to matter. A few months ago, I felt strongly about visiting Machu Pichu in the near future but now it doesn’t matter at all. The job, the weather, money, clothes…….nothing is important. All that matters are people, far and near, who form the fabric of our lives and help us cope. They matter.

“An incalculable number of light years from the warmth of the sun. When the rain falls, it falls in droplets of grief, and when the light shines, it is in waves and particles of grief. From whatever direction the wind blows–south, east, north or west– it blows cinders of grief before it. Grief stings your eyes and sucks the breath from your lungs. No oxygen on this planet, no nitrogen; the atmosphere is composed entirely of grief.” [By the Time You Read This, by Giles Blunt]

After many months I went to the gym yesterday. It was good to take my attention away from my heart and mind to my quads, hamstrings and non-existent abdominal muscles! The endorphines were great too! However today I am really ‘enjoying’ the after effects. Can hardly walk! I have another appointment at the gym for tomorrow. Boooohoooooo!

All the education that I am putting myself through helps me think about things a bit more deeply. It also makes me realise how little information was given to us as a family. Here are a couple of insights I had about the treatment or lack of it that my son received:

1. At no point in time was my son seen by a Consultant Psychiatrist. We were told that his case had been discussed with a Consultant. The psychiatrist who saw him in A&E was a registrar and so is the doctor who followed him up. Is this standard practise? If so, should it be?

2. Secondly, he was never ever started on a ‘mood stabilising drug’ which is the mainstay of treatment of severe Bipolar disorder. It had been mentioned at his very first consultation but not started. The GP did not even suggest it, despite the fact that the diagnosis had been known to him. Wonder why!

So many questions! No answers.

To every heart that dares to hope,
To every soul that longs for peace,
To everyone who shares His love….Joy to you and all the world.

This is a greeting from a dear friend for the festive season. So beautiful! This is also my greeting to anyone who might be reading this and to all the world.
Yes. Joy! 🙂

Four million (4,000,000!!!) people suffer with Bipolar disorder in the UK and it is the greatest killer of all psychiatric illnesses.

[ Source: The Secret Life of a Manic Depressive Part 1:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rGDl6-lyfMY ]

Today was a day of trying to get an insight into what it feels like to have Bipolar disorder. I only had a brief introduction to it through my son. He tried but he could not accurately explain how he felt, which is not unusual. Often he would say things like “My brain is fried.” or “I am brain dead.”

I happened to chance upon The Bipolar Blogger Network  and learnt a lot. Felt a lot of the angst and pain that they must suffer. Am truly sobered and shocked by the nature of the suffering that is bipolar.  Of course, I cannot claim to have felt it the way they do but my compassion and admiration for them has grown many times over, through better understanding on my part and honest sharing on theirs. On depression – “It is like drowning. Except you can see everyone around you breathing.” I recognise that unsaid sentiment in my son’s eyes.

In ‘The people who want to help’ section, these 3 statements below were the most helpful ones for me at this time –

“Try to understand the blackness, lethargy, hopelessness, and loneliness they’re going through. Be there for them when they come through the other side. It’s hard to be a friend to someone who’s depressed, but it is one of the kindest, noblest, and best things you will ever do.” – Stephen Fry

“With all the admiration and thanks that I can muster, this is a gesture of thanks aimed at our guardian angels, our caretakers: those understanding, non-judgmental, and gentle people who stick by those of us who are mentally ill regardless of how hard things get.” – Tear Lines

“Lastly – thank you! Whether you get it right or wrong, thank you for giving a shit. And you are loved for it by people who are good at extreme emotions.” – Blahpolar diaries

Here I would just like to repeat what I said at my son’s memorial service –  You are never alone.

The various spaces in my head are vacant and full at the same time,
My heart starts to ache anywhere, anytime,
At having to let him go in his prime.
There seems to be no reason or rhyme,
For the clocks to chime.

Memories flood me from all sides,
Bringing joy and despair out from where they hide,
The inner chattering and the chides,
Take a stance opposite to my side!

The hearts on his pyjamas are lavender,
His name has vanished from my calender,
I know I need to surrender!
I wish he would show up in my dreams someday,
‘I love you, my darling!’ I would say.

Letting go completely is the thing to do, I know.
How do I do it? Where do I go?
Is this an ‘opportunity’ for me to grow?
I am not sure. Doesn’t feel like it. I don’t think so.

My field of energy expands and contracts all day long,
I watch the waves rise and fall,
Sometimes I am so proud and stand tall,
Other times I feel like rolling up into a ball
And plunge into a slumber too deep for any call.