With each day that passes, I feel myself becoming more familiar with the situation that Kate McLaughlin went through while raising two children with bipolar disorder. The only difference is, I’m married to one and as much as I don’t want to admit it, I can sense a diagnosis coming on one of my children.
We won’t know for certain until the middle of May when we have our first session with a specialist, but everything is pointing in that direction.
Earlier today, I found myself on the phone calling a friend that I know my kids love. Through my tears, I asked if my son could come visit her for the night. He needed to get away from the home currently known as hell – if only for a night.
It seems depression has become a massive wet blanket that is smothering the life and every ounce of happiness from my family.
For the first time I felt the deepest, most dreaded fear I’ve ever known. The fear and thought that my son, my precious child, could be so miserable – depressed in such a way that mom can’t fix – so much so that I actually feared he may do something to harm himself.
I’m not certain if it’s just the heaviness of living in a house so consumed by mental illness or if there’s genuine concern.
My husband, through his clouded judgment effected by his own mental illness, he is quite certain it’s nothing more than a plea for attention.
I don’t think so.
How is a woman supposed to choose between her husband and her son.
I feel as though they are both drowning in a sea of darkness, but I’m only assured the strength to carry one through.
As much as I fear the word, it feels as though divorce is almost inevitable.
Since I took my son to our friends house, I have felt as though all I wanted to do was curl up and sleep – but I can’t. Husband was so exhausted from his week long battle with mania that he crashed before dark.
Again the responsibility of the household was left balancing on my shoulders – I stayed up to watch a movie with the other two boys – all the while a part of me grew even more numb, more tired and ready to crash.
I pray for the day when everything will be normal again – when I know what it’s like to smile and mean it.
