The journey of a mother and her son through diagnosis and into treatment is a tamultious one. The passion for proper treatment, for actual care of ones health. The turbulent path of finding the right professionals and then the ups and downs of medications, their combinations, and side effects.
The love of a mother for her son is a special one. When he feels hurt I feel his pain multiplied deep within my soul.
Many of the medications used to treat Bi-Polar and Depression take time to seep into the system. Putting something into your body so foreign and dangerous that it can change how you think and behave is a scary proposition, certainly not one to be taken lightly. Making the decision to have my son treated in that way has created a deafening barrage of conflicting thoughts complicating my daily life. Looking in from the outside I see his pain, frustration and struggles so clearly. I see the wild look in his eyes come so quickly when something triggers him, dispersing as quickly as it appeared. His struggles are his norm so he cannot see them each time they appear, they all blend together.
I am more cautious with his medication journey than I was with mine. I am thankful to know exactly how I felt with each medication and although we all feel differently, hindsight is 20/20 and I am using those glasses. One medication at a time. I will not name medications publicly, as I am not an expert and don’t want to sway anyone. I will however, answer every e-mail with honesty. He started one a few weeks ago and is not yet up to the levels needed to make a difference. The waiting is so difficult but he has a great therapist who is helping him tremendously. He is frustrated by not “feeling” the medicine kicking in and I understand that feeling well. In the meantime, we take it day by day. I get up and make him his breakfast and lunch. I am in touch with each of his teachers and administration at the high school to ensure that we are all supporting him.
Privacy is extremely important for a student who is looking to attend an institute of higher learning.
I cannot stress enough the importance and value of not placing my son on any school “programs” or any other term the school uses to gain additional funding and places any notes or codes onto his transcripts. I want absolutely nothing to stand in his way of success. My job is to keep the doors open and minimize damage at all costs. I have been very firm and calculated with what I share about my sons health and how they will handle it. What they put on his transcripts and in his recommendations can change his future for worse or better and like a momma lion, I protect his future with my life. I communicate enough to allow for compassion on the part of educators but no more. I communicate that he is under the care of medical professionals and may experience lapses in memory and concentration. He may need their patience and compassion but nothing less and nothing more. They push to know what is wrong and I have only gone so far as to say that he is experiencing a temporary episode of severe depression.
Depression is a word that people understand even if they don’t understand it. Bi-Polar is a word that instantly turns you into an unstable crazy person.
All is right in the world when others feel that they can help by having compassion for a young man experiencing a temporary bout of depression. Bi-Polar requires a team and a special counselor and a special program and on and on and on. Bi-Polar is a permanent state of instability in the eyes of many.
My son has the advantage of learning about his strengths and weaknesses at a young age. Armed with that knowledge he has the ability to become stronger than most.
He has more of an opportunity to succeed now than he did a month ago. Getting out on the other side is the battle. Winning one battle at a time with knowledge and positivity is what will win this war.
My Purposeful Mind 