Liz Janill
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A Bipolar Quandary tells a very personal story about several lives who were affected by this disorder. The story is told by the daughter, Liz, about living with a bipolar mother, about painful decisions and scenarios encountered by the family while caring for their severely ill loved one. It shares the emotions remembered and felt during their lives. For each severely delusional bipolar person, there are at least three or four other people behind them helping with their care. This story is about the other 4 people involved with this disorder, bipolar.
I just wanted to share my experiences with other people who are caring for a bipolar loved one. Our mother died two years ago and I wanted her story to be told. It is very personal, but I want to use what I learned to help other family members. I want them to know that they are not alone in the decisions they make everyday to help their bipolar loved one. I also wanted to show that the mental illness medical world is doing the best job they can. This story shows that the "system" itself does not work here in America and our mentally ill loved ones need more help. I appreciate all who read this and hope that this story helps in any way.
Dorothy had only one episode of being manic during this time. I remember that we had a family meeting with the doctor. Charles had asked us, the kids, since we were now adults, to help him with Dorothy. It was too big a job for him anymore, working with the doctors and the insurance company and the various other people it took to keep Dorothy in the real world. We were at a family meeting one of the times Dorothy was in the psychiatric-ward in the hospital. The doctor told us that she was still not well and probably would not return home for a few more weeks. We asked him if we could see her and he recommended that we not visit with her at that time, but he could not stop us from seeing her if that was what we wanted. Charles and Tim left the conference room and went toward the elevator, but Ralph and I decided we would visit her in her room. When we entered her room we found her naked under the bed in a fetal position. There are no words to describe how we felt seeing our mother in this position. We were just in a state of shock and disbelief. This was an extreme example of depression that had basically paralyzed her. Normal people get depressed and we cry, or go to bed. We are just sad for an afternoon or a few days. This is another difference between manic-depression and the normal world. Their emotions swing as far to both sides of euphoria and depression as a human can possible go. A lot of the time bipolar people commit suicide because their depression is too painful to live with. We at least were fortunate that she never committed suicide or talked about it that I know of. After that, if the doctor said he would not recommend going to see Dorothy, believe me we did not go. Another episode occurred with Dorothy being delusional and Charles called me to say that she was not doing well and he was scared. One night when they had just gone to bed, Dorothy sat straight up in bed and looked at Charles and said “They told me to kill you”. She was talking about the people who were talking to her inside of her head. So he stayed up all night and called me in Texas early in the morning to say “I need you”. I got on the first plane I could get and went to help him. All that day Dorothy was delusional, crying and laughing at the same time. She said that someone named Jay was coming from God and was holding a meeting with all of us. He was coming to heal everyone who was sick and that he, Jay, had promised her that she could be the first one healed. She was so excited and just sobbed and sobbed about how she was going to be healed. What I remember most is how sad it was that even in her delusional state, she knew she was sick and it meant a lot to her to be the first one to be healed. We had been on the phone with her doctor all day and we were taking her to the hospital the next morning. So that night we were trying to just keep her calm by watching some television. I was lying on the floor and she was sitting on the couch, just laughing and crying and talking to the people in her head. I finally got so tired of it, I told her to just quit talking to them because we were tired of hearing it. She got up off the couch at 1000PM and got dressed in her Sunday best clothes, hose and dress shoes. She applied all her makeup and was looking her best because “Jay” was coming and she had to be ready to be healed first. She walked the hallway of the house all night long, in her heels and crying and laughing. I pushed the bed against the wall of the bedroom I was sleeping in and turned my back to the wall, so I would know that at least the back side of me was safe. I stayed awake all night listening to her walk the hallway sobbing and laughing. My childhood “monster” was alive and quite active.
