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.

Of Valentines Day and the Super Bowl

A few days ago I read a story in the Wall Street Journal, "Happy Couples Kiss and Tell" about how long-married happy couples have stayed together. Among the interesting tidbits are forgiveness, hard work, finding the middle grounds, laughing together, keeping some things separate, and never giving up. I agree with all those tips, and add another one: sharing common interests with each other.

For example, in addition to our children (obviously) and trips where we like to explore less-than-well-used roads, we like to watch sports together: baseball playoffs, basketball (the Jazz), and especially football.

David is a Denver Bronco fan, more so when John Elway (his hero) played. I am a diehard Green Bay Packer fan that goes back to when I was growing up with two older brothers. Since they played football in high school, and I liked being around them, I learned how to watch a football game during the Vince Lombardi era. We have a collection of Bronco and Packer items at our house; one of my treasures is a cheesehead that a friend gave me.

Over the years we have enjoyed a friendly rivalry when Green Bay and Denver played (especially when they played each other in the Super Bowl). We enjoyed watching the game on Sunday, just the two of us. He was cheering for the Colts, and I was firmly in the Saints' camp. I was delighted they won; what a great thing for them and their city! Now it's on to watching the Olympics.

Granddaughter Gabby and my Cheesehead

Update on David: He's starting to struggle again with no sleep, noises, and a very sour mood. He talked to his doctor yesterday, and instead of taking his meds at night, he'll try them during the day. The problem is that David is drug resistant. I think part of it is his body chemistry, and part of it is his subconscious fighting the effects of the meds. When he had knee surgery 15 years ago I asked his surgeon to give him some valium, hoping it would help him relax and let his knee heal. It had the opposite effect. He went manic, and remodeled our bathroom all one night, and the next day, when I was dozing for 5 minutes, he walked 2 blocks to the neighborhood playground with Jeff and Katie. When I found him there, I admit that I colored the air blue, and let him figure out how to get home on his own. That was the last of that type of medicine. To be fair, David hadn't been diagnosed yet, and we had no idea about what to do with his mood swings.

The doctor is going to a medical convention this week and taking David's file with him to consult with others about him because he's tried all the med combos that he can. Here's praying he comes back with some more ideas! In the meantime, I try to give him some encouragement, and support, and lots of space. That last item is important for my sanity; he can be sarcastic when he's in this mood, and I don't want to add fuel to the fire. I've been spending the last hour of the evening reading and doing some writing. It helps to have that time to myself so I can unwind.

On the family scene: We have a new grandson, Eric Jay! He was born on Wednesday to Soldier Brian and Tania at Ft. Lewis Washington. I'm so happy he's here and healthy; they have had some real struggles in getting their two babies here. I am planning on going to see them a little later this spring; can't wait!

Sailor Jeff and his wife Nikki are finished with his Navy deployment and will be home tomorrow! They're still working on their plans, but he will be in the Navy reserves, which will give him some income and benefits while they decide what the next step in their lives will be. He did a lot of growing up while in the Navy; I'm very proud of him and Nikki.

We are also having a baptism for 8-year-old grandson, Dylan, on Saturday. And a ward breakfast (we're on the activities committee) in the morning. It should be a good day filled with friends and family activities. I'm just hoping David won't get overwhelmed with it all.

Wishing you all a happy Valentines day!

Dealing with Extreme Anxiety

David went to his Dr. last week. He was suffering from extreme anxiety and lots of joint pain. It's a good thing he did; the Dr. said he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown caused by bipolar. He gave David a complete physical, including blood tests. We're still waiting for the results of those. He also put David on Zyprexa, with the approval of his pdoc. It's so great to have two doctors who work together and take David's illness seriously. All he has to do is call his Dr., and they fit him in almost immediately because they know he's high risk. I'm grateful for them.

The zyprexa is working well for David. It's taken the edge off the noise in his head that was driving him to distraction. He's also been able to get more sleep, which is always nice. His mood was miserably hard to deal with all week, but he's finally coming through the bad cycle. He gets combative, anxious, edgy, and paranoid during mania. I know he's finally coming out of it when he talks to me about what's been going on in his mind, and we can have long, healthy discussions about his illness, and how to better handle it.

I've been keeping a record of his moods since he started this new medicine. And trying to keep my own mood upbeat. Not always an easy thing. I'm still figuring out how to manage my reactions to David's mood cycles. Sometimes I do better than at other times. But one firm rule is to not argue with him when he's manic, and to give him space, while I do my own things. I also rely heavily on faith and prayer to get me through it.

It can be so draining to deal with, but even so, I feel that it's worth the effort. And next week promises to be better. We are expecting a new grandbaby to arrive, and Sailor Jeff and his wife will be coming home for good!

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.

Martin Luther King Weekend

The week around Martin Luther King's birthday is always a time for introspection and sentimental musings for me because there are several birthdays in the family this week and it is the anniversary of my mother's death 33 years ago.

I made the mistake of not coming to terms with the loss of my mother at the time it happened. Instead, I buried my grief for years. I couldn't even talk about her or my childhood, even though I had a long, happy childhood and loving memories of her, for more than 15 years. Our oldest son Jon, and my daughter Lara also have birthdays that coincide with the anniversary, and I felt that I had to be at least reasonably cheerful for their birthdays.

Fortunately, some friends helped me talk through my feelings, and I came across the book, Motherless Daughters at a bookstore. I didn't have the money to buy it at the time, so I read and cried through it at the store. That was when I realized that it was all right to miss my mother (I still do), and I can honor her memory by the way I choose to live my life. Healing finally came when our sweet granddaughter Alicia Maree was born six years ago on that same date. I felt my mother's spirit when I held that precious newborn, and it gave me a sense of the circle of life.

I spent part of the long weekend sorting through old family pictures, looking at images of the family as they were growing up and wondering where the time went. My problem is that I am hopelessly sentimental and have SO MANY pictures (boxes of them, to be honest) that I get overwhelmed trying to sort through them. I start organizing them, then end up putting the pictures back because I run out of time. And they sit for several more months before I get brave enough to try again. This time I left the boxes in the living room to motivate me to go through them sooner rather than later. Notice that I don't say HOW soon that will be? David and I were joking about my problem, and I told him the good news is that I don't have any more film to develop and I will never get duplicate photos again. Thank goodness for digital cameras!

I've been working on writing a series of stories about service for the magazine, and have also been watching the developments in Haiti; my heart goes out to those who are suffering such unimaginable pain and to those who are there trying to help them. It restores my faith in mankind to see such outpouring of love and help from around the world. I am also grateful for the opportunity to contribute to the Church's efforts to help.

It seems appropriate to consider Martin Luther King Jr.'s words on the subject: "Agape is understanding, creative, redemptive goodwill toward all men. Agape is an overflowing love, which seeks nothing in return. Theologians would say that it is the love of God operating in the human heart. When you rise to love on this level, you love all men not because you like them, not because their ways appeal to you, but you love them because God loves them."

Or, as King Benjamin taught his people in the Book of Mormon: "When you are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God." (Book of Mormon, Mosiah 2:17)