Where We Are Now

I recently took some time to read about this adventure we've been on for the last six years. So much progress! And yet we still have miles to go.

I started this blog as part of a class assignment when I was going to school. At the time, David was newly diagnosed and we had no idea of what to do or expect. I wrote this at the time:
    "For most of the time we have been married, David has dealt with mood swings and difficulties in keeping a job. Until last year, he was functioning all right and learning to keep his moods under control. Then he lost another job, and his illness took a turn for the worse. After several weeks of not being able to concentrate, struggling with hallucinations, and taking long walks when he was almost catatonic, he agreed to see a doctor. It was a relief to have a name for what was happening to him, and at the same time frightening because we knew so little about the disorder. This is what I wrote at the time: 'We had a long, very interesting and helpful talk about what is happening to him, and I'm still digesting this piece of news. Fortunately, most of the time he's rational and able to tell me what is going on in his mind. I don't know much about this disease, and I have a million more questions than answers. I just feel my husband has been handed a life sentence for an incurable, but hopefully treatable disease. This feels overwhelming. One of my questions is what do I tell the kids? Another is how in the world am I going to find the time to deal with taking care of him and everything else?'"

One of the real blessings for us was my brother Kent, who was working as a case worker for a mental health organization. We were able to have lunch together frequently during that time, and when I described David's worsening condition he told me what was going on and gave me some much needed information and moral support. Kent and his wife, Chris, were wonderful listening ears and helped David understand and accept his diagnosis.
After David stabilized, we were surprised by the amount of stigma associated with mental illness and decided that we would do our part in our small sphere of influence to lessen it by being open about bipolar and talking about it with family members and friends. It undoubtedly was hard for them to hear what we were saying at first, but over the years they have become accepting and supportive. I especially appreciate the men in our ward who have taken David under their wings and make him feel wanted and needed. With that support, David has worked on his own spirituality and makes every effort to attend church regularly and we have prayer together every morning and evening. His prayers are deeply felt and beautiful. He knows where to turn for help when things are rough, and has been given the strength that he needs.

We have also been fortunate to have great doctors who give him the help he needs. His pdoc is especially good at working with David, and takes the time to call when there is a need. Because of that, David is really good about taking his meds (with an occasional outburst of "I don't need them anymore" and then he realizes he does). From 2007: Sep 22, 2007
"I had intended to keep this journal (at goarmyparents.com) just for the military kids, but I think that on occasion I'm going to talk about David and the battle we are in for his mental health. I find that I'm responding to this much as I do when my boys are deployed—disbelief, grief, worry, small joys, the need to find out everything I can about it, etc. It feels like another type of roller coaster ride.

"I went with him to the Dr. again on Tuesday after a bad weekend and my b-day, and after the Dr. consulted with the clinic psychiatrist, he left some meds for David at the reception desk. After 1 1/2 days of dragging his feet, and several discussions about why he needs them, he picked them up!! I know it's a little thing, but I'm DELIGHTED! I just hope he'll take them, and they'll help. He goes back to the Dr. in 2 weeks for a consultation, and we'll see what happens then. I went to my bishop and he gave me some needed counsel and comfort."
Truly, David would not be as stable without the support of friends and loved ones, and caring doctors.

Now he doesn't have the frightening manic episodes, but he still battles severe anxiety and depression. For example, we visited my family in McCall last Thanksgiving and even though he had a hard time with his moods, we managed to have a good time. Unfortunately as the weekend progressed, David retreated into himself and an almost catatonic state. He was in no shape to drive the seven hours home, so I drove the whole way, except for a 25 mile stretch when I thought he was doing better. It was frightening. I didn't want to drive drowsy, so we found a motel in a little town out in the middle of nowhere—there's a lot of nowhere on that drive— and spent the night. He had a rough night, couldn't sleep, so he took more of his meds. The next morning he could barely move, had trouble speaking and had that vacant look in his eyes were he's there, but not really home. He slept the whole way home (another three hours) and then all afternoon and evening. I worried about his slurred speech and wondered if he was having a stroke, but he woke up the next morning coherent, but a little confused about which day it was. When I called the doctor, he explained that when David gets in that catatonic state it's usually following mania and/or anxiety. His mind is going so fast his body can't keep up with it and shuts down. He gave David a prescription for Ativan to help with the times when he starts to get overwhelmed. The Ativan has been very helpful for times when he anticipates stressful events (such as vacations) or when he feels it coming on. The doctor also says that post-vacation depression is a normal reaction to the excitement and change from the routine. I try to keep that in mind during the often difficult days after we go somewhere.
Scenes from our Thanksgiving trip:

David with my brothers and a horse team

Back from a Long Weekend

We had our annual family camping trip last weekend. We had been planning this for a month or so, even though half of the family couldn't come because of work and other obligations. (Sometimes it feels like herding cats trying to accommodate everyone's busy schedules.) We were getting excited about going when we had word that one of David's aunts passed away following a long illness. We didn't know what the funeral plans were until Thursday afternoon, which was when we had planned to leave for the mountains. The upset about the funeral plus the stress of packing for a trip sent David into a manic episode, but we finally left Thursday evening. By Friday noon, the mountains had worked their calming magic for him, and we ended up having a good time. He loves being in the mountains, finding serenity in the beautiful scenery. That is where he is at his relaxed best.

Three of our daughters, their families, and David's ex, Bette, joined us Friday afternoon. Bette has joined us on a number of camping trips over the years, and we enjoy being with her. She has been great at helping me to understand David, and on occasion we have been known to "gang up" on him to get him to behave.

We were at Lily Lake in the Uintah Mountains, much to 3-year-old Lily's delight. David taught the 5 grandchildren who were there how to fish, and gave them some poles without hooks to practice casting out into the lake. We also hiked around the small lake, and relaxed. The kids had fun running around, playing hide and seek, building a fort, and having "smarshmallows" in the evening. The weather even cooperated. This was Lily's first real camping trip, and she had a great time observing all that was going on and keeping up with the bigger kids. Watching the kids have such a good time made all the effort and stress involved worth it.





The dogs were also in heaven running through the long grass near the lake. By the time we left they were so tired they could hardly move. But they were happy.

On Monday David and I spent the day with his mother driving to her sister's funeral, and then taking some time to locate and visit family grave sites. The weather was pleasant, and the funeral very moving and thought-provoking. I have been thinking of my own mother's passing lately, and the speakers reminded me of important and soothing truths about the purpose of this life. I realized again that family members past and present are an important part of who we are and that we best honor them by the way we live our lives.

David did well through the funeral and the drive home, but the last two days have been difficult for him. He slipped into depression, thinking about all the possible "what ifs." One of the reasons for this latest sadness is that it is the 2-year anniversary of his father's passing from Alzheimer's. He does tell me about how he's feeling, but I worry about his lack of energy and wonder how long this cycle will last.

When he was manic while preparing for the camping trip I was also stressed, and decided to try some deep breathing for a few minutes. While it didn't work miracles, it did help me relax a bit and focus on what needed to be done. We go through pre-trip mania every time we go somewhere, and even though I know it's going to happen, it's still frustrating and nerve-wracking. Even though camping is a lot of work, I still enjoy going.

Managing Mania

Last week was a tough one. David struggled to control his mixed-episode mood all weekend, but it bloomed into full mania on Wednesday night. It was the worst I have seen him since he started on the lithium two years ago.

He came home from our cleaning job with his mind racing, and an urgent need to have me write a story about "them" that was going through his mind. (When he starts talking about "Them" I know he's having hallucinations going on.) He eventually took his usual meds and went to bed. I woke up to some banging a few hours later, only to find him completely delusional and about to do some serious self-harm. I was able to calm him down and gave him some zyprexa that took care of the worst of the episode. It was a long night. I talked to his pdoc the next day and he said that I did the right thing; made me feel a whole lot better. He also told me that the zyprexa wasn't causing the sour mood, it was the mixed-episode mood he was in, and that David should continue with the meds he's been prescribed. Since then, David has been doing better and started taking the zyprexa again. The whole episode, though, was emotionally draining.

These episodes leave me feeling vulnerable, and it takes me a few days to recover my equilibrium. This time was no exception. However, there are things that I can do to help myself get back into a good place: prayer, reading the scriptures, listening to good music, and working on on-going projects around the house and at work.

This time around I made good progress toward cleaning out closets and going through boxes of family pictures. David helped with the pictures; it was fun sifting through them and looking at how much the family has grown and changed. And I'm terribly excited to realize that I only have two more closets and three sets of drawers to go before the house will be organized (sort of, as much as I'm capable of organizing anyway). Then it's on to the fun stuff of painting and decorating rooms, working on family history and scrapbooks, and knitting, crocheting, etc.

It's always amazing to me how when I feel really discouraged someone comes along and says exactly what I need to hear, often without even realizing it. This time was no exception, and I consider them tender mercies from the Lord who never forsakes me. An example of that happened at the ward party a few weekends ago. The young women, ages 12-18, delivered singing telegrams, and I was lucky to receive one from Sailor Jeff and his wife. They sang "Wind Beneath My Feet" by Bette Midler. It was so sweet it reduced me to tears. It was even more sweet because I knew the girls who were singing and taught some of them when they were 10-11 years old.

I used music more as a therapy, and that has helped lift my spirits. David also discovered that listening to a quiet classical music radio station at night helps him relax and sleep better than anything else he's tried.

I was raised in a house filled with music; my mother had a lovely soprano voice and used to sing as she worked around the house, as well as in local choirs. I, unfortunately, didn't inherit that talent, but I do like listening to music. My first husband was also a musician, and he expanded my musical tastes. When I need to feel better I listen to hymns; they soothe my soul.

My mother-in-law is a good friend with one of the tablernacle organists, Linda Margetts, and last year she invited us to a noontime organ recital at the tabernacle. After the recital, she gave us a personal lecture about the organ. It was fun to see it up close and personal, and the music was heavenly.

Spring is coming, and I'm expecting better days soon.

Here's a reminder of things to come.

Mental Health Days

I took a day off, just for myself, last week. I enjoyed spending it on family history research (something I like doing and haven't been able to do for a long time) and having a long, leisurely, quiet lunch reading Stephen King's book "On Writing."

I discovered the need to take time out for myself long years ago when I was a young mother feeling overwhelmed and lost in the day-to-day efforts of caring for my three babies. One day when my then-student-husband was home (a rare event) I had a chance to run some errands by myself and then took a drive to some nearby towns where I had grown up. Remembering past events, both happy and sad, reminded me that I was a worthwhile individual, not just a wife and mother. It also helped me put my life in perspective and was instrumental in working through debilitating postpartum depression. Even though those years of young motherhood were painful for me for a number of reasons, I learned a lot of coping skills that have come in handy. Taking a mental health day has been an important part of surviving hard experiences over the years.

I know I need a mental health day when I start feeling irritable and resentful. Sometimes I take a whole day, sometimes just a few hours. On occasion I tell David about my plans, and spend the day with him. Most often, though, I don't tell him because he wants to be a part of it, or he comes up with tasks that he thinks I should do, which defeats the whole point. The only rule I have is that it must be something that I really want to do. I know that I am very fortunate to be able to do this because I can take an occasional day off from work and my coworkers are understanding and supportive. Even if it's only for a few hours I come home from these days with my emotional batteries recharged and ready to jump back into everyday life.

David's moods have been more or less stable, but he's having an increase of noise and voices in his head; it takes a real physical as well as mental toll on him. We're a bit worried about the effect it's having, including a desire to self-medicate, so he's going back to his doctor for another visit soon. Hopefully this week.

We took a long walk together on Sunday that helped him feel better, at least temporarily. Walking and exercising seem to lift his spirits, especially when he's not feeling well. I like walking with him, enjoying the dogs, the area where we go, and lots of companionable quiet. Sometimes those walks feel like mental health days for me, too.

Post Vacation Depression

David is having a bad spell with post-vacation depression.
I'm not really surprised, given all the stress that we've experienced in the past month: Our youngest getting married, my graduation, becoming empty-nesters, and our favorite dog getting killed.
I can see the signs when it starts getting harder for him to control, and I feel frustrated and sad that I can't do much more than give quiet sympathy when it overtakes him.
In the bad old days I took it personally when he distanced himself from me emotionally. That's when we argued the most. Now I realize it's one of the symptoms of his illness.
Here are some hard-won lessons that I've learned over the past 20 years on how to work with him. It's not that I'm perfect at it, but this is what works the best for us:
When he says he wants to be left alone, I've learned to give him space and continue on with my own projects and life.
He tends to say unkind and inappropriate remarks; I either ignore them and leave the room, or tell him as calmly as possible that he's out of control.
Most of the time when I ask him how he's doing he gives me full sentences about how he feels. When he's in this frame of mind, he gives me one word answers or a cold look. I've learned to accept the answer and not press for more.
David has very little energy and motivation right now. I accept what he does, and don't demand more than what he can give.
We usually have a nightly prayer together, and that always helps. Now is the time when I also need to put his name on the prayer roll at the temple.
I try to remember that a loving Father in Heaven knows him, his needs, and how best to help him. I've learned to "let go, and let God" take charge.