Equally Yoked

As I look through my past blog posts, I am amazed at how much my life has changed over the course of a year or so.  My marriage is stronger than it has ever been before, even during those times when my husband’s bipolar disorder was not evident. 

Lee’s illness, although much less severe as time marches on, occasionally raises its ugly head.  However, I am glad and proud (and certainly thankful) to say that he has decided to turn his life over to Jesus Christ and that this choice has helped him (and me) tremendously.  Experience and medication are also huge helpers in the bipolar shuffle.  There have been a lot of ups and downs over the past twelve months, but we have decided together to let the Father be our guide.  We want to go wherever he leads.

I have found that being equally yoked with my man is far less painful and far less tiring than when I held the heavier end of the burden. 

2 Corinthians 6:14

Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers:  for what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? And what communion hath light with darkness?

Although Lee had heard the salvation story before, and had even prayed the sinner’s prayer, he never truly accepted or believed on the Lord Jesus Christ as his Savior until a short time ago.  He says that he basically didn’t understand the full meaning of salvation but was simply trying to deal with the fear of going to Hell.  Now, I can see the evidence in his life that he means to do better, that he wants to do better and that he is taking risks to prove his faith.

Now, to see where this path goes; that is a scary and exciting endeavor.  Yet, with the hope of God on our side, we shall prevail.  So, in the face of adversity, we have decided to take up stakes and move 350 miles away to Lee's hometown.  Soon, we hope, our house will be going up for sale.  We've already secured a place to live there.  May the Lord lead us, guide us and direct us...and help me not to be scared to death either...as we seek His will!

A Flower Unfolding

It’s been awhile since I posted a blog, and I have really missed it!  Things have been super busy around here, as things sometimes are.   

I’ve recently been doing a little research for a series of articles I’m preparing to publish on Suite101, and ran across some very valuable information that could benefit a lot of folks. 

I feel like I know quite a bit about bipolar disorder.  I’ve researched books and websites and talked to many people who know the subject well since my husband was diagnosed in 2008.  However, even I was a little surprised to find some of this information.

Did you know…?

Ø  2.6% of the US adult population has either bipolar 1 or 2

Ø  82.9% of these cases are deemed severe

Ø  Only 48.8% of them are receiving treatment, and of those, 38.8% of folks only get a minimal amount of help

Ø  In 2007, suicide was the fourth leading cause of death in the US of people between the ages 18 to 65

Ø  There is a clear link between people diagnosed bipolar and suicidal tendencies

This is just the tip of the iceberg of what I found, friends!  The thought that there are so many people out there who need help and are either too embarrassed, too sick or too poor to get it is astounding!

 Those of us who are caregivers to a person with bipolar need to stand our ground and insist on adequate treatment and care for our loved ones.  So often, it is the case that they are unable to do so themselves.

Don’t Be Afraid!

Don’t be afraid to visit doctors with the patient if you are a spouse.  Don’t be afraid to go to therapy with them.  If you know that they are giving inaccurate information, don’t be afraid to call their doctors and therapists when it is necessary.  Monitor their medication if you need to, especially if you sense something is just not right. 

It is for their good, and you should not feel badly about taking excellent care of the person you love when they are unable to care for themselves! 

It is horrible to think that any person would find their life worth less than the air it takes for them to breathe.  However, suicidal statistics demonstrate clearly that there are many people who are just that depressed in this country.  They are not all bipolar, of course, but bipolar disorder absolutely has a direct correlation with suicidal tendencies. 

I will make my husband mad if I have to.  I will go against anyone else’s criticism anytime.  And I will inconvenience doctor’s all day long to make sure my husband does not become one of those statistics because of my negligence.  I now know, almost three years after Lee’s diagnosis that he is like a flower opening to the sunshine of opportunity, support and love.

Check out all of my findings and more at http://www.nimh.nih.gov/statistics/index.shtml.

My Late Bipolar Reaction

Lee and I have been having some great days between ourselves lately, but I’m telling you, it seems like the whole wide world is against us.  Thank goodness that he is stable right now. 

 We’ve had some major problems with our daughter (not of her doing), a myriad of minor household disasters ranging from a deceased heat pump to a flooded bathroom floor, and my workload has doubled (that's good but also quite stressful).  All of this in less than three weeks.  It has been more than hectic –it’s been downright crazy.  And with all of the stress and strain that is totally non-bipolar related I have noticed something about myself that I truly do not know what to do with or how to handle.  I call it my late bipolar reaction.

This reaction is the one where I get tiffed with my honey-bunny-man for doing absolutely nothing wrong.  Not a little angry; furiously enraged.  Complete paranoia reigns when I get this way.  I recognize depression signs.  It’s a defiant attitude I have when he’s doing everything right.  It’s the obsession that pushes me to take little rides to make sure he’s at work when he says he is. 

Do I have a problem?  Absolutely.  What should I do about it?  Couldn’t tell you.  

Since we’re at an in between time where we’re making it financially, but still can’t afford health insurance for me, therapy for myself is out of the question.  Heck, bipolar disorder is darn expensive.  A few hundred bucks of medication a month, plus another couple hundred in therapy and doctor’s visits makes the budget a little tight at times.  Not to mention how hard it is to find a therapist whose first and last thoughts are not, Leave him, girl.  He's looney."

The only thing I know to do about my late bipolar reaction is pray about it, and then pray some more.  I’m brutally honest with my husband as well, because I completely expect him to be brutally honest with me about everything.  Better the demons I know and all that.  By putting my thoughts and feelings out there, no matter how irrational they are, it takes a little of the steam out of them.  It shows him that I'm practicing what I preach in a big way.

Seeing his reaction goes a long way toward my peace of mind.  I see that he loves me anyway, just like I love him anyway.  I see that I am not alone although in the midst of bipolar struggles it sometimes seems so.  When I say, “You might be mad at me, but I stalked your truck again.” And he responds something along the lines of, “Do you feel better knowing I was where I should be?” without a hint of anger or meanness; it helps.  When there’s just deep understanding and a ‘honey, I know we’re both doing the best we can’ feel to what he says, it goes a long way toward healing the hurts of the past. 

My bipolar reaction is scary and downright painful for me and for my mate.  But when used effectively for the uplifting of our marriage, it is also bringing a new and deeper dimension to our relationship that otherwise would never have been.  Thank the Lord for it all because He holds us in His hands.   

Is There a Wolf in There?

People who know me know that I am a very practical person.  Now, I’m not saying that I’m not flighty or super-duper out there sometimes.  But I am one of those people who believe firmly in things like coupons, 401K’s, health insurance and keeping an eye on the big picture.  I think that my pragmatic nature lends me to be spiritual as well.  In my logical mind, having faith is a wonderful, amazing and extremely practical way to live.  Really, is it rational to think that the whole universe just happened?

Having this realistic view of life also makes it very simple for me to see that God does not want us to go about acting like there aren’t opportunities available to help those of us dealing with manic depression.

I have heard a million reasons why bipolar isn’t really ‘real,’ but that the afflicted just ought to ‘pull themselves out of it.’  I have even been told that my husband has a demon because he has bipolar disorder.  It has been shared with me, by well-meaning folks, that psychiatrists and therapists are of the devil.  I have even been encouraged to let my faith in God keep my husband away from the appropriate medications to treat his extremely severe disorder. 

Now, I don’t mean this disrespectfully at all because these people truly believe these things from the bottoms of their hearts.  They are really trying to be helpful; but my down-to-earth personality has me screaming, “What a bunch of hogwash, people!”

Surely every psychiatrist on the face of the planet is not out for our souls.  Certainly, every person with a mood disorder is not full of evil spirits!  Would God put great medicines in the minds of incredibly astute professionals just so that we could turn them away?  And on top of refusing the help God has so graciously given us, we are also supposed to blame Him for the refusal.  My faith is supposed to be so high and mighty that I can refuse His mercy in His name? 

Well, I don’t think so.  It just doesn’t make sense to my practical, realistic, pragmatic nature.

My poor husband’s episodes have been so bad at times that I truly don’t know if he was really present in this world.  But a kind doctor had the knowledge that allowed them to say that they could help.  And over time my husband, our family doctor, therapists, psychiatrists, family and friends have helped him get back to where he can actually think and be responsible.  He is now a productive member of society again.  This has been done with the help of medication, and no exorcisms were necessary.  The most essential part of his stabilization, however, was the fact that God oversaw it all.

God gave most of us enough common sense to know the difference between what is good and bad; what is right and wrong.  And I think it is pretty much common sense that says if there is a medicine out there to help your cold, by golly-geezers, take it!   And, just because you get a cold doesn’t mean that you have evil incarnate living inside of you! That cold is also not an indication of all of the evil you must have done in the past.  How is this different for people unfortunate enough to be born with or to develop bipolar disorder?

God’s thinking is above our thinking, so I absolutely don’t claim to ‘know it all.’  But, I’m not going to take every word that is fed to me as the gospel either.  God told me in His word to look out for wolves in sheep’s’ clothing, and I intend to do just that. 

I also try to make sure I’m not unknowingly one of those wolves. 

Hope

There is a great truth to be learned by all who ever experience suffering and hardship which threatens to break their souls, hearts and minds.  The bad may get really, really bad.  But when the good comes it is obvious what is before one’s face.  There is no mistaking it, and there is no lack of appreciation or gratitude for the blessing that is given.

With that being said, what a wonderful few weeks we have had!  There were definitely times over the past several years that I wondered if we would ever experience any relief from the bipolar beast.  And now, here we are!  My husband is trying so hard, and so am I.  We are working together as a team to try to be better people in Christ.  Granted, neither of us are perfect…we are quite a way from there, folks!  Yet, we are refusing to sit stagnant in our unhealthy comfort zones.

I know from whence our help has come.  I know completely with every bit of what makes me who I am.  I know, beyond all doubt, that we could not have survived the struggles that come with bipolar disorder without God.  And, it makes me so heartbroken and remorseful for all of those who do not know that this help is there.  It hurts me to the core to know that there are people out there suffering without hope. 

Hope – it is a strange thing.  When I could not hope that my husband would ever become stable because my human nature could not trust him, I trusted that God had me in His hands.  When I could not hope that we would ever get past all of the pain, I had hope in the Heavenly Father because I knew that He would never cast on me more than I could bear.  Hope in God was all I had because I dared not trust to hope in anything or anyone else.  Too much pain, too much betrayal, too much hardship will do that to a person.

So, I lift a prayer for all that are out there without the hope of Christ.  I pray that you will find that hope by finding the One who gives it.  He holds you in his hand, too.  And while I am altogether unique and special to God, you are as well.  He loves me no more than He loves you.  Jesus Christ literally gave the ultimate sacrifice through His death so that you and I could have hope and life everlasting. 

The pain of this Earth is temporal.  It will not last forever, even if we never have another good day again for the rest of our lives here.  This life, however, is only the beginning.  We will all live for eternity and our souls will never dim.  It is merely a question of where that eternity will be spent; in glory with God, or in Hell.  I lift another prayer that we all see that death is only a transition from one form of living to another – and that we all choose whether or not to take the path that can give us hope in this life and the next.

I Love Him, I Love Him Not?

Let me begin today by explaining how I come upon this topic.  I was at a good friend’s house last week.  She is pretty familiar with the bipolar situation my family lives with every day, and she and I often share a thing or two about life.  She asked me if I loved my husband, or if I were only staying because I thought I was being led to.  That blew me away!  Wow!  Eye opener, dude!

Let me say, from the bottom of my big ole heart, that I absolutely love that man all around the world and back again!  We have had some rocky times, and dealing with bipolar disorder so up close and personal is not easy (can we say, ‘understatement’).  Sometimes I’m scared of what might be around the corner.  Often, I am terrified of more pain and rejection.  Occasionally, I’m even afraid of good times.  But, I have never stopped loving my husband.  Not ever.

The question of whether to stay or go, actually, was not (and is not) about love at all.  During the moments where I have thought of leaving, I had good reasons, and none of them had anything to do with a lack of love for Lee.  As a matter of fact, I don’t think that I will ever be able to stop loving him, barring if he were to hurt one of my kids.  If that ever happened, we would be in a whole other territory of no man’s land.  But, seeing as he really is a great daddy, I don’t anticipate that ever happening.  I’m pretty sure that we are likeminded in the “We’d die before hurting our kids intentionally” department. 

Choosing a path that continues to run parallel or one that diverges from one’s spouse, in this situation at least, has to do with survival.  It has to do with giving one’s kids a stable life.  It has to do with keeping one’s own sanity and health.  It is centered on what is best for everyone involved, because I have sometimes wondered if the kids and I were only making things worse for the poor man.  I thought maybe he could stabilize faster without us adding responsibilities to his life.

So, as you read, please understand that although I believe passionately that I have been led by the Holy Spirit to stay right where I am, I do also love my husband in a way that I have never loved anyone else before in my life. 

Bipolar disorder does not define him, but it can change him.  And through him, it can change me and my kids.  That is reason enough for a good mother to thoroughly pray over her choices and, when no answer seems to be the right one, choose to follow the guide of the One who knows all.  I truly believe that Jesus has me, my husband and my children in His hands, and that all things work for us because we love Him.

To my dear friend who helped to open my eyes to what it may seem like I was saying, thank you for being brave enough to ask the hard questions.  If you read this know that you were heard, and your words of support and help are greatly appreciated.       

Tough Love

I believe the last question I left you with was how exactly my family and I moved forward from a virtual bipolar stalemate.  I was guilt-ridden, although in retrospect I hadn’t technically done anything wrong.  My husband was feeling like (or at least this is how I perceived it) every wrong he had ever committed was now null and void, and that because he suffered from this mood disorder he was somehow exempt from all adult responsibility. 

It was tough – really, really tough.  The house, the yard, everything that we had was completely let go.  I couldn’t keep up.  I was doing all that I could, but I was now the keeper for EVERYTHING, which in a marriage two people are supposed to shoulder together.  I had a lot of anger for past hurts Lee had heartlessly inflicted, and I had major forgiveness issues (duh).

Lee, on the other hand, had absolutely no remorse.  He said that he did.  He said all of the right words to our marriage counselor and his therapists, but his actions did not prove his words.  Words without actions mean nothing except to prove that a person is being dishonest about what they are saying.  Naturally, he was the picture of fatherhood and the model spouse in front of others, but there was a dramatic difference when no one was looking.  Extremes were the game - it was just as bad as it seemed good to others behind our closed doors.

Plus, Lee’s medications were being really hard on his body and his mind.  And I was a very nauseous pregnant lady with a major dose of depression who had been taken out of work entirely.  Thank goodness for the support of family and friends – somehow our little daughter was protected from most of the chaos by very strategic overnights with her aunts!  But more than anything, I thank the Lord for providing me with the strength to endure both the mania and the depression, and everything in between.

I’ve made absolutely no bones about the fact that if everything that happened hadn’t happened in the very timeframe that they did, I most likely would be a divorced single mother today.  But, my pregnancy with my son slowed me down…and, as I prayed and prayed and prayed and prayed, I received some peace from the Father.  Not peace with everything that had happened as much as peace that no matter what happened I would always be His, and that everything that happened was for my good and His glory.

I determined within myself, as hard as it was, that when the anger came (and it came often) I would pray for my husband and all those who had almost destroyed our family.  With my whole heart, I would pray for them despite all of the wrongs that had been inflicted on me. 

And, I also determined that I would take a rational look at the bipolar demon as objectively as possible.  When I did, I saw that having this horrible mood altering disorder had definitely changed my husband, and along with him, our whole life together.  I also realized that having a mental issue does not necessarily give a person the right to do nothing, or to do whatever they want when they feel like it.

Although his condition definitely affected the way he was able to think, he did have some choices.  And particularly, with medication he was increasingly responsible.  There is a very fine line between helping a bipolar spouse get on their feet, and allowing them to manipulate their partner into enabling them to remain stagnant.

The Lord revealed to me that although I really hadn’t been a bad wife, and although I wasn’t responsible for what had happened, I still had to change my actions to make our marriage work.  I had to quit taking the blame and stop allowing my own manipulation.  Tough love is hard, probably harder on the one having to distribute it, but it is a strong love. 

Tough love is the way that the Lord loves us.  He spares us as much as He can, but when He has to, He allows us to endure some hardship.  It makes us grow, and it makes us stronger and it makes us better. Jesus changed His whole life for us even when He had done nothing wrong.  He came to earth and He endured pain, torture and humiliation so that we could one day be with Him.  We should all strive to accept that challenge even though it is beyond terrifying.  Rest assured, we can never do such things on our own; but with Jesus, all things are possible!  I believe it!  And it is so!  Ain’t it good, folks!

P.S.  Just a note…if anyone has left a comment and I haven’t responded, it is because there is currently an issue with that particular part of my blog.  I’m working to correct it.  Cheers!