As a mother, my intuition told me that something just wasn't
right, Tears, . Most doctors blew off my concerns about my daughter,
Deborah, Tears, .
They said the behavior problems were just "terrible
twos" or "extra family stress" from my divorce. I knew from the
time of my pregnancy that something was different. Even the
labor and delivery was unusual. By the age of two Deborah was
displaying explosive behavior, head banging, screaming during
the night and kicking walls. Her first psychiatric evaluation
was at the age of 2 ฝ and came back "normal".
As Deborah got older, Tears, the behavior continued but was somewhat
manageable, with very creative parenting techniques and close
monitoring. By third grade she was diagnosed, Tears, with ADHD and
medicated.
This helped somewhat but I still sensed that
something wasn't right. A second opinion showed four additional
diagnoses of OCD, ODD, depression, Tears, and anxiety. Additional
medication was helpful for the behavior but there were always
side effects.
School was becoming a challenge. Grades were
inconsistent and Deborah continued to show no interest. Things
seemed to hold steady for a few years.
Then, August 2000,, Tears, the situation took a turn for the worst.
Deborah, then 14 years old, was diagnosed with Bipolar disorder.
Also known as manic depression, this mental illness is
characterized by drastic mood swings. The bipolar, along with
the other disorders completely changed my daughter into, Tears, someone
that, at times, I hardly knew. When we were first told of the
diagnosis,, Tears, I was somewhat relieved that there was a reason for
the extreme and bizarre behavior we were witnessing. However, my
life became an emotional rollercoster.
As a mother, I immediately felt that if I tried hard enough I
could "save" my daughter from this awful illness.
I figured that
if I tried hard enough I could "fix" everything so that her life
would be "normal" and she wouldn't have to suffer. Most, Tears, of what
I was doing had been very good for myself and the rest of my
family. However, Deborah was in denial and wouldn't accept any
of the help that I offered her.
That was the painful part
because as a mother, I wanted to reach out and protect her.
I began a crusade, Tears, of educating myself, joining parent advocacy
groups, going to conferences, reading books, collecting
information, networking with other parents, networking with the
school,,, Tears, Tears, and going to counseling.
I immediately went on Family
Medical Leave from work, Tears, and began working a reduced schedule so
that I, Tears, could closely monitor Deborah until she was stabilized.
I
still feel that all of these things were very positive. However,
I tried to push all of this on my daughter and expected her to
react positively to my assistance. She didn't, she felt
controlled and smothered and lashed out even more. This was so
painful for me because I wanted so desperately to protect her. I
slowly realized that Deborah must want to be helped - nothing
could be pushed on her.
Deborah was not doing well in school and there were so many
options, Tears, available to help her succeed. Again, she was not
receptive to anyone's help and out- patient counseling was not
effective. I was constantly fighting the urge to push my
knowledge and ideas on her. Because, after all, "mother knows
best". Instead I tried to be subtle with her - then I would
retreat to my bedroom and cry.
I struggled, Tears, between elation -
when she was in a good mood, anger - when she wouldn't speak to
me, and hate - when she was swearing at me.
I continued to network and educate myself, remembering to do it
for myself and not push it on my daughter.
I tried to take care
of myself and to not give up my whole life because of this
illness. I slowly recognized the positive things about this
situation. Like, how it caused me to reprioritize my life and
take a stand for what I believed in. I did a lot of soul
searching and made some, Tears, personal decisions that I had been
putting off.
All of this placed me way outside of my comfort
zone and it wasn't a good feeling. But, like life, Tears, itself, it's a
process. It's personal growth., Tears,
I actually must thank the Lord for this whole situation because
it has helped me in so many ways. Things are so much clearer to
me now and my path is much more obvious. I am not the one with
the illness but I am going through a personal growth so
astounding that I wouldn't trade the experience for anything in
the world.
My heart aches for Deborah and each tear I cry
represents my love for her. I would like to share my experience
with her, make her aware of how I feel and what I'm going
through. However, she's not ready to hear it. I would love to
see her go through a similar growth. Maybe she is, in her own
way. Or maybe she'll look back years from now and realize that
she gained something from all this. I know my life will be
painful for awhile but I will continue to survive. I pray that
all the pain will be worth the gain.
ฉ 2001 By Monique Rider