Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Accept their Love, Eat their Casserole


When I am feeling well, I readily claim my illness. I own my bipolar disorder because I know it has shaped me into the person I am today – strong, considerate, and extremely empathetic. However, when I am feeling ill and the depression leaves me to suffer my defeat alone, anxious, and afraid, I suddenly become ashamed of my illness – embarrassed to be sick in a way that too many people misinterpret as a choice.

It is not a choice to feel like a total fuck-up. It is not a choice to tremble at the thought of leaving the home. It is not a choice to become irrationally and excessively irate.  It is not a choice to erupt into a waterfall of tears at the thought of truly exposing myself and seeking the help I desperately need. In my mind, to accept help, is to acknowledge and concede to the belief that I am burdensome.

It’s a sad irony that the periods in my life when I most need help are also those points when I am most reluctant to seek support. I shut down and seal out those individuals that are willing to help. I don’t grant them the opportunity to love me the way I deserve to be loved. Phone calls go unanswered and e-mails remain without reply. I don’t even entertain the questions of “Do you need anything?” or “Is there anything I can do to help?” The reply is an immediate and resolute negative, but I don’t ever mean what I’m saying. I do need help.

Right now, there’s a two week old e-mail message from my friend Angie asking if I need anything and letting me know that she loves me and is there for me always --- through thick and thin. I know she means it when she says this. It’s not just some kind of greeting card warm offer that she hopes I never take her up on. She would be there, and she indeed has been there in the past. However, I have not replied to her message, and probably won’t. It’s stupid and stubborn, but it’s true. It’s this same damn shame and stubbornness that has left my friend Kim still seeking an answer the week old question of “What can I do to help?”

I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know what I need, and that’s why I can’t answer you. If I knew what I needed, I wouldn’t still be feeling like this. I give my mother-in-law the generic answer of “prayer” when she presses about how she can be of comfort or service. I do indeed need prayer, but I also need understanding and anti-depressant medication without so many uncertainties. I need drug companies that care about creating cures – rather than increasing consumerism. I need to find a blend of medication that works so I can stop being a fucking pharmaceutical guinea pig.

Right now, there’s also a message on the answering machine from my pastor – stating that he intends to pray for our family that I get through this terrible depression. He also asked what our family needs – be it coming to the home for a blessing or congregation members to stop by with casseroles, easing some of the everyday responsibilities while battling this beast of an illness. His final words on that message were, “just let us know what you need.”

I wish it were so easy to give me all I need, because what I really need is a better mental health care system in my county and this country. I need a mental health care system that will accept me and provide me needed care as I am – feeling broken, but not bleeding. “Your insurance won’t cover your stay if you’re not cutting yourself or seriously contemplating suicide,” were the exact words my psychiatrist said upon discussing hospitalization today. I had visions of running for razor blades, slicing my wrists, and returning to her office with blood dripping off my fingertips and unto her beige, bland carpet: “Can I get the care I need now? Will someone, anyone, give a shit now?”

People do care, though -- friends, family, co-workers, and my church community. And what I really need is to learn to seek the help of these individuals who care because they love me and are deeply, genuinely concerned about my well-being. I need to answer phone calls and admit to my deep pain. I need to let go of pride and provide a reply when a friend or family member asks what they can do to help. I need to seek support and welcome warmth. I simply need to accept their love and eat their casserole.



<a href="http://yeahwrite.me/challenge-97/"><img src="http://yeahwrite.me/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/challenge97.png"></a>

21 comments:

  1. I have an Aunt who suffers with depression. She doesn't answer phone calls when things are bad either. Maybe sometimes when you love and care for someone who is depressed, maybe you need to just do instead of asking. Just make the casserole already and take it over. Sit for a while. Don't expect conversation or entertainment - just be there.

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    1. So right on -- "maybe you need to just do instead of asking." When I write my own book about how to help someone with bipolar (which will probably be never because I am, according to a good friend, 85% kick-ass and 15% crippling self-doubt) I will include this bit of advice and give credit to you. Thanks!

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  2. Hang in there. You're in the belly of the beast right now, but you won't always be. It seems like it, but you won't. (((HUGS)))

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  3. I'm so glad that you have all that love and support around you, even if it's hard to accept it sometimes. Wishing lots of brighter things ahead for you.

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  4. So true how sad it is that we don't, or just plain can't, accept help when we need it most. Thankfully, though, you have the support available when you are ready for it. It sounds as if many people love you, and you know your Yeah Write family is here to listen whenever you need us. We love you too!

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  5. "irrationally and excessively irate". That would be me. Even with good meds. I hate the days when I have to walk away from my kids, especially when they are being no more obnoxious than kids will be, and when I can SEE THAT, but when I'm still furious over it. I will say this; the reaching out thing is a boundary. If once you cross it, returning across that threshold becomes easier and less painful.

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  6. What a struggle! I am so sorry that it isn't easy to get the help you need. I think it's a great stride to know you need help most when you don't want to take it. Hope you can find healing and that "perfect" cocktail, covered by insurance. :)

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  7. i'm sorry that you go thru this. i have father who suffers from that as well as a host of other issues. i think support is the most important thing. let people help, even if they can't do anything really. little reminders, calls, casseroles, are just tiny pieces of love that hopefully guide you to the other side. baby steps!! keep taking them.

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  8. I really admire how you put it all on the in your writing - this post and others. I don't know much about bipolar disorder, but I do know, as you've stated, that it is not always a choice to act the way you act. I'm probably not much help out here in virtual land, but please know that I'm thinking about you.

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  9. "It’s a sad irony that the periods in my life when I most need help are also those points when I am most reluctant to seek support." This is so true, so painfully true. I have dysthymia (chronic depression) and alcoholism, and when I've needed the most help I retreated inward, as if asking were too much for me. It WAS too much for me. Thank God I have a family who if not always understands what I go through, support me through it. I'm glad you have the same support network.

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  10. I love the way you write. You're raw and honest and appropriate for this audience, that's for sure. I said something similar last year when my step dad passed. I don't know what I need from you!! I don't know!!! And finally, I shut my mouth and ate the casserole. And the casserole was good. Great job, Angela, and feel better soon. Anything I can do to help? ;)

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  11. You are not alone. I, too, am on (as we have come to call it on the Twitters) #TeamBipolar, and when it opens up under your feet, it's a terrible pit that you fall into. I see so much of my own disease in your post, and...well I just want you to know that I understand, and to tell you what I forget when I'm there. That this will pass, that if you endure, and that the love of others can sustain you, and you are not a burdon on them.

    Also, let me share a thing from a friend who also goes through it, something I've gone back and read myself when I've felt down, just to not be alone: http://evilgalproductions.com/?p=1828

    We do not have to endure alone.

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  12. I'm sorry that you can't get the professional help you need. Mental health and health in general should not be something that only the rich can afford. All people should have the same access to care. I'm glad you have such a huge support team though. I hope the depression lifts soon.

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  13. I think that being able to share the things you feel in your blog, and in turn, with so many people is a step to being able to understand, at least a little bit more, what you have to do to cope with this.

    I struggle a bit with depression, it's certainly not easy. I feel for you.

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  14. I know exactly what you mean by not seeking the help when you're feeling good enough to think it through and when you really need it you can't quite get to getting it. I get that so much.

    I wish I could say something that would help or offer you some meaningful words. But know that those of us reading care and keep writing. And if you think of something someone can do, by all means tell them. Or tell them when you feel good when the next bad waves come what they can do so they can respond to you without having to ask.

    Sending you a hug. Hope you are feeling good again soon.

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  15. This is what's wrong with everything:

    “Your insurance won’t cover your stay if you’re not cutting yourself or seriously contemplating suicide,” were the exact words my psychiatrist said upon discussing hospitalization today. I had visions of running for razor blades, slicing my wrists, and returning to her office with blood dripping off my fingertips and unto her beige, bland carpet: “Can I get the care I need now? Will someone, anyone, give a shit now?”

    It's shameful that we're told to ask for help when we need it, and then are denied help until it's too late for many of us to ever really pull out of it. It just makes me so angry. And then they wonder why so many people suffer in silence. Because asking for help in official places doesn't get us anywhere, and we don't know what to ask of our friends and family because we can't think straight enough to know it ourselves.

    Thank you for sharing this. More people need to share. I'm not brave enough, not yet.

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  16. Depression has a way of making a person feel like insulating themselves and shutting the world. I'm glad you have so much support and people around you who care and want to help. That's so important. I know what you mean when you say "guinea pig for the pharmaceutical companies". Exactly. So frustrating.

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    1. Angela, I want to invite you to come over and bring some of your terrific writing to link up on my Monday hop. Would love to have you. :)

      http://modmombeyondindiedom.blogspot.com/2013/02/i-dont-like-mondays-blog-hop_25.html

      (Hope you don't mind my posting my link in your comments. I won't be offended if you delete it.)

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  17. I feel you. It's so great that you have an awesome support system around you. Even if you're not ready to take on their support or know exactly what they can do, I think it helps knowing that they are there. Hang in there!

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  18. Bipolar solidarity! I'm right there with you. It's so very hard to reach out and ask for help, and it's hard to know what to say when people offer it. Sometimes all I need is someone to sit with me, but it seems like such an odd thing to ask! Maybe next time I will ask for it.

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  19. I like what Vanessa said -- that maybe people should just do instead of ask when a loved one is depressed.

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