Part
of this blog is an extract from my new book, Gozo Is the Grass Greener?
www.gozoisthegrassgreener.blogspot.com
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Living with a partner who suffers from
bipolar disorder can be a bit like following an angry bear into a cave and then
poking it with a stick!
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And
yes, I speak from experience.
My
husband Steve suffers from bipolar disorder, and while for the great majority
of the time, he is able to live a fairly balanced life, there are times, when
it gets the better of him. The past fortnight is a case in point and has, shall
we say, been ……. Interesting.
Bipolar disorder is also sometimes
known as manic depression and for good reason. On a “down” day, sufferers might
be depressed to the point of suicide, or just quiet and subdued; on an “up”
day, they can be manic, irrational and spontaneous to the point of being
ridiculous.
The story of how Steve and I met is covered
in detail in my new book, Gozo Is the Grass Greener? For a while, like other
people in love, we lived in a bubble; oblivious to anything else, with all our
energy going into our new and exciting relationship. Steve was highly
attentive, loving, considerate and kind. He was also, unbeknown to me,
extremely mentally unwell. He was, in
short, a ticking time bomb on countdown to self-destruction.
Steve on a good day
I was oblivious to this, and had no
idea that the man I had fallen in love with was labouring under such a huge
burden. He had told me that he "could be moody", but to be honest, I was so in
love with the man, he could have said, “By the way, I’m a serial killer” and
I’d have smiled and said, “That’s not going to be a problem”.
In the past, Steve had days so dark,
that he would wake up in the mornings and wish to die. He seriously
contemplated taking his own life, but in reality, I simply don’t think he had
the energy. He had no control over his thoughts; they were a never ending
intrusion on his mind and wore him down, sending him into the shadows of
obscurity and loneliness. His depression
was like a snake winding itself round his heart and soul and strangling the
life out of him.
Whilst Steve’s
suffering was terrible and painful, depression also has a devastating impact on
the person who is in the caring role. To watch someone you love, struggle to
come to terms with their inner demons and be defeated over and over again is
almost too much to bear. To watch, as they are overwhelmed and crushed by
something, which is out of their control is totally draining. I developed a
raging resentment and anger towards the illness that is depression and saw it
as the enemy in our midst.
To understand your adversary gives you
more power in overcoming it and having victory. With that in mind, I spent a long time researching Steve’s condition, and began to understand more about it. I finally came to a place of
accepting that Steve could not help how he responded, and had no dominion
whatsoever over his mood. He simply could not “cheer up” at will.
After enjoying a fairly stable period of time, Steve’s depression crept up on him
again 2 weeks ago. As is often the case, there was no particular reason for it.
However, I could see it reflected in his eyes, which give him away by becoming
flat, dark and angry. Having learned to recognise the signs and symptoms of a
depressive episode, I galvanised myself for a few bumpy days. I knew from
experience that Steve would withdraw, not eat properly and have difficulty
sleeping, or, sleep all the time.
One of the worst thing you can do to a
depressed person is to tell them to pull themselves together, or worse still,
tell them to be thankful for what they have and draw some irrelevant
comparison. Depression is no respecter of persons. In fact, it’s a
disrespectful sonofabitch full stop. You can have all the money and fame in the
world and still be depressed. It has nothing whatsoever to do with material
things.
One of the problems for me is that I am
a trained and qualified social worker. I am supposed to possess skills, which
enable me to deal with such crises, to take them in my stride. I can tell you
that this is not the case, which only serves to add to my feelings of inadequacy. To
feel the cold wind of indifference blowing around you, replacing the love that
used to occupy that space is excruciating. One minute your partner is loving and
attentive, and the next, brooding and resentful. Steve has tried to explain to
me many times that it is NOTHING to do with me, but it is hard to accept this,
when it feels as if it is directed at you. I suffer agonies of soul searching,
trying to identify what I might have done to cause his low mood, when deep
down, I know it really isn’t me, it’s the nature of depression.
I feel I should handle it better; maybe
not get so down myself when a depressive attack strikes, but those of you who
know what I’m talking about, will also know how hard it is to separate yourself
from the illness.
And so into the bear cave.
Steve on a bad day!
Steve’s depression was lasting longer
than usual. I had tried in vain to identify an easy solution, because there
wasn’t one. He had withdrawn into the bear cave, but I got to the point where I
felt angry. Not angry with Steve, but angry with his condition for robbing us
both of the happiness we should be enjoying. Once I had reached this point, I
knew I could approach Steve calmly and objectively. I took my stick (not
literally you understand) and marched into that bear cave. No response, so I
poked him repeatedly until I got a response, and believe me, it wasn’t a good
one!
I knew I had provoked a reaction,
and despite it being a negative one, more anger was better than the indifferent
apathy, which had overwhelmed him. Over the 2 week period, Steve had continually
denied that he was depressed, citing tiredness, and other reasons for him being
withdrawn. I kept on prodding until he
reached a point where he was able to accept that he was indeed depressed – more
so than he had realised. Now, let me say
this; it is not always productive to poke an angry bear! In this case, it was
the right approach, but on another occasion, I might avoid such action. If you
are caring for, or living with someone with bipolar disorder, you must
understand that what works one day, will not necessarily work another day, or
for that matter, ever again.
I feel I have to be creative in
supporting Steve, knowing when to be quiet and let him be, and knowing equally
when to take a stick, follow him into his cave and poke him.
I wish that all of you who suffer from
this debilitating condition find a way of getting a handle on it. For those of
you who are in a caring role, I would say this; make it your business to know
as much as possible about bipolar disorder. Do not resort to saying, “Oh I give up” when
your loved one leaves for the bear cave. Remember, no matter how bad it feels
it is NOT personal. Your partner, friend, or relative, needs unconditional love
and support through their darkest hour, and you may be the only person who is
able to give it to them.
For us, this episode thankfully ended with Steve talking openly about how he felt and us both identifying new strategies, which might help us the next time ....... and let's not kid ourselves, there will be a next time.
I will leave you with the wise words of
Sun Tzu, who was a 6th Century General and Military Strategist.
If you
know your enemies and know yourself, you will not be imperilled in a hundred
battles ……. If you do not know your enemies, nor yourself, you will be imperilled
in every single battle.
The issue of bipolar disorder and its
effect on Steve and I is examined in a chapter of my 2nd novel, Gozo; Is the Grass Greener? It is
available via Amazon as a paperback or Kindle download along with my debut
novel, Known to Social Services – www.knowntosocialservices.com
Both books are published by Faraxa
Books.
Freya
