Family tree
I got a message from my mom today. She said my uncle just had five shock treatments and she was happy to report that this had “snapped him right out of it…for now.”
He’s the third of my mother and her siblings to be diagnosed with bipolar. All later in adulthood. All after a stressful event in their lives. No real symptoms before that. Or at least none that I know of. Add that to my grandmother’s long-standing diagnosis and if you got that side of the family together to have a potluck and only asked the non-bipolar people to bring the food, there would be a mere two dishes on the table.
This scares the hell out of me. I know this disease is hereditary. I know that biology is stacked against me. I can’t help but feel as though there is a ticking time bomb in my head, just waiting for the right combination of stress and circumstance.
Reading this site has helped me see this diagnosis in a different light. I can see that there are so many people out there living with this and doing quite well, thank you very much. It’s not a death sentence. It’s not the end of the world. It doesn’t mean that you can’t have a regular and happy life.
But it doesn’t sound fun. And while depression and anxiety seem to have found acceptance in our society because they have become so prevalent, bipolar still caries a whole load of stigma along with it. People don’t understand it. They’re scared of it. And all they see in the media are the really extreme cases, the ones that reinforce the stereotype of bipolar people as crazy, crazy, crazy. And dangerous. Don’t forget dangerous.
So, thank you for telling your stories. Thank you for showing everyone out there that is struggling with this disease or the possibility of this disease that they are not alone. It makes it a little easier to face, to deal with.
I’m still scared, though.
October 24th, 2007 at 11:37 pm
I understand. My mom and her mom were both bipolar, and there are others in the family tree who had mental issues of some sort. My mom was hospitalized after my brother (her second child) was born and again after I was born.
I was terrified that I would suffer the same fate, especially during my second pregnancy. I watched for the signs with great vigilance.
To my surprise, I had been watching for the wrong mental illness. (I have OCD – a very manageable case of it.) My shrink assured me that I was very in touch with reality (my mom hallucinated under mania) and I didn’t have a mood disorder.
I asked him to tell me again and again. And again. :-)
Seriously, my mom is doing well in her mid-70s. I admire all she’s been through. She started dealing with this in the 1950s, before effective medication was widely available. If you met her now, you’d never know she had a mental disorder. Not much freaks her out. And if she ever has a memory lapse, she shrugs and says, “Must have been the shock treatments.”
One plus is that in our family, there is no stigma attached to seeking psychiatric help. Sounds like there is a lot of acceptance in your family as well. All the best to you!
October 25th, 2007 at 10:18 am
One thing that I think contributes to the stigma of bipolar people being “crazy and dangerous” is that media coverage of extreme behavior from bipolar individuals never seems to mention that in virtually every single case, the person was unmedicated or improperly medicated at the time of the incident being reported. They don’t say, “unmedicated bipolar,” or if they do, they don’t explain just what that means. And there’s a world of difference between medicated or not medicated here.
October 25th, 2007 at 11:52 am
I’m finding Belinda’s comment really helpful. On my dad’s side I have a bipolar aunt, a grandma who has suffered from anxiety forever (had a nervous breakdown as a young mom, agoraphobia, been taking meds of one sort or another since my dad was a kid), another aunt who struggles with depression and anxiety. On my mom’s side there was surely undiagnosed mental illness in my grandmother, and severe undiagnosed/mistreated mental illness in my uncle (he’s never been under consistent, competent care for long enough to get a meaningful diagnosis). Last year he had ECT to get him out of a catatonic state. While I doubt that I would ever become catatonic, it was terrifying to try to speak to him on the phone- he was just not there, at all.
I worry about things getting worse for me, or something bad happening and ending up in the hospital.
Right now when all is well and the balance is right, I worry less for myself and more for my kids. And through the lens of Belinda’s comment I see that the worry is more about not wanting them to suffer.I love my parents dearly, but they were oblivious to the level of anxiety I felt as a kid. I know that I’m a different parent because of that, and realize that of course, you can’t keep your kids pain free, but I can offer them plenty of support and love if these issues ever come up for them.
Sorry to go on and on, obviously the role of heredity and mental illness is a touchpoint for me.
October 25th, 2007 at 8:11 pm
Wait, what? They still do shock treatments? My dad had that when I was a baby..I thought that had gone the way of lobotomies and insulin shock treatment.
October 25th, 2007 at 11:08 pm
i agree with your praise of this site, it’s had an amazing impact on me. i had no idea what would roll out and it’s just been great.
it’s good you acknowledge your fears, yet your perceptions are all changing. this has been my experience too.
November 1st, 2007 at 1:08 am
Thanks for directing me here. Been going through some of the toughest times of my life lately and feel like I’m drowning. Can’t really laugh, can’t cry, just numb. It’s terrifying and yet, it’s not. I’m just nothing.
My sister had a complete “psychotic break” five years ago and was then diagnosed with Schizophrenia. The doctors said that life just got to be too much for her then and she “broke” mentally. I didn’t get it at the time. How could one be a certain way one day and then completely different the next? But now, with life wearing on me, I get it. And I feel that added “family tree” fear; that at any moment I will wake up and have the cure for cancer or see Jesus at the foot of my bed (like she claimed to). I just constantly feel on the verge, like I’m fighting to stay out of the altered state that just simply gets me through. I really identify with your quote about being a ticking time bomb and waiting for the right combination to set you off.
Anyway, all this to say, I get what you mean. And thanks for sharing.