My Bipolar Child

I would first like to mention that I am typing from the ONLY keyboard in the house that does not have syrup on it. 

The next thing I would like to note is that I have Natalia's permission to write this post.

Back in August of 2014 Natalia was diagnosed with cyclothymia. Now, that is a fancy name for bipolar. It's the kind of bipolar where your highs aren't too high, and your lows aren't too low. I have a clear snapshot in my mind of the moment her doctor gave her a permanent label for this awkward beast that had been troubling our whole family for a few years. I was hurt all the way down into my mother heart (I'll explain that in a moment) and Natalia was relieved. She finally had an answer why she felt like her emotions where rolling over her like tsunami waves.

People who know Natalia generally love her. Of course, I am a mean mama bear and if anyone were to speak odd-ball slander against my child I would probably let my crazy out a bit. But people that Jeremy and I know and trust really do adore her. What I am trying to say is that she is a good kid, well mannered, and has a good moral compass. I've preached on this before. She is not what you would pin point as a classic bipolar kiddo. My little sister is bipolar in the traditional way. That is a sweet southern way of saying Amanda used to chase us with kitchen knives and punch holes in the walls when she was 9 years old.... bless her heart. 

Natalia really flew under the radar with this one. Her teachers had labelled her "quirky", but loved her as a student. She is shy and not a trouble maker. Her test scores were all over the place! Some test days she did pretty well, some days she just bombed. Except math, it is her arch nemesis - consistently. She had one fabulous teacher who told us to take our time to have her tested for a learning disorder, but that we needed to keep that in the back of our minds. We invested in some summer tutoring, but it didn't help how "out of sorts" she had become.

Okay moms. Don't be paranoid, especially if your child is a tween. They are strange animals who should be watched from a distance and sometimes you just have to throw M&M's at them and hope they don't steal your soul. That is actually normal. What gave us the heads up that Natalia was having extra trouble is that these "moods" would last for WEEKS. Could you imagine?! Mars doesn't make enough M&M's for this situation. Not only would she be out of sorts for weeks, but she would be fidgety and restless for weeks prior to that. She would only get four hours of sleep in spite of having Benadryl. As a mother, it was alarming, and she was scared. She felt completely out of control. I asked her pediatrician if this was simply hormones and her doctor stated hormonal swings last hours at most. These mood swings were indicative of a disorder. I told her I wanted to try counseling first (which we did) before we saw a psychiatrist (who is the MD that doles out the diagnosis and pills).

We were referred a second time to a psychiatrist. He reminds me of the counselor from South Park. I wait for him to say "MMM K?" at every session, but he doesn't. Darn it! He spent two hours talking to Natalia. The nurse in me could tell where the questions were heading and how he was trying to clarify and veer her away from where it was going. She kept coming back to the same answers. After all the questions were done and the conversation was over I realized I knew all along. Oh, she also has ADHD. So she was either a little too happy, or a little too sad, but either way she wasn't paying attention.

Okay, all about me: I felt robbed. In the dysfunctional child breakdown I am the perfectionist child. I had done everything right dammit! I married the amazing guy, I got therapy so I'm not so messy, I love my daughter like a mom should, no body is beating anybody or shooting heroin in my house. I mean, I feel like I had set the stage for a mentally sound offspring. I forgot the genetic factor. If anyone really wants to know about nature vs. nurture I can attest to nature on this one. Jeremy and I are good, supportive parents and we have a bipolar daughter. I have had to REALLY evaluate the way I feel about mental illness. I mean, really. As a nurse I am supposed to be all "Yes, it is an illness and we treat it like any other illness", but also I have seen a manic bipolar girl in four point restraints in a wheelchair who STILL manages to get her hospital gown off and scream "I'm pushing my baby out!" to the terror of the rest of the ER bystanders. She was not pregnant.

Natalia saw it as an answer for why she was feeling so terrible all the time. She has no ingrained stigmas or baggage. She did recently tell me that she does not like the term "mental illness", so I see hints of the label starting to take its toll. I have had to really tuck my crazy in to re-affirm that bipolar is managed just like my autoimmune disease or diabetes. It is life long, but let's not demonize it. I also told her that it is not an excuse to act a fool or be a jerk. She agrees. 

Natalia is recovering from a concussion and it REALLY set off her bipolar. I think at one point her bipolar became contagious because we all became crazy. Hell, I even saged our house just to cover my bases, it was that bad. One really bad night she was super down. Oh, like that crying from her soul wanting to disappear and die kind of bad. It is so hard for me to write that, but it is gospel truth. I was at a loss of what to do. Look that shit up in the parenting manual - yeah, it's not in there. Now, as a southern mama my first instinct was to feed her. This was NOT the right answer for her at the time. I will let y'all take note of that. That's right. Jot that down.

Instead I crawled into bed with her and held her as much as she would let me. Even when she ordered me out of her room I told her I wasn't going to leave her. Never leave someone when they are like that. Close your ears to their words and look at their soul. They are wearing it on the outside at that moment. It was so raw. Finally, she got to the point where I could hold my baby girl again. In all my 11 years of being her mom I never imagined my darling girl would feel that much pain from inside her own head. I told her that this would pass, it always does; and it is not real, although it feels very real right now. I told her that daddy and I were going to love her through it until it passed. It was a long 40 minutes. 

Okay, So let me make a point here. It doesn't matter if Natalia was diagnosed with Autism, or Rheumatoid Arthritis, or bipolar. There is a bit of grieving to be done here for parents. It's okay. Why? Because when a mom has her baby it is a perfect slice of heaven with an extra side of hope. Hope that with this baby the landings will be a little softer and hugs a bit warmer. There are still things that we just can't control, like DNA. Don't misunderstand me here. I'm not saying that Natalia is in any way damaged at all. This is the way the good Lord made her and I love everything about her. You should see the way she puts together an outfit. It's pretty different, but totally "her". People who have seen the crafts I have made know I make exceptional pieces. She is no different. What I mean is that if I was the one who got to decide her life struggles, I would not choose this one. I would choose something like, beautiful hair that grows too fast or terrible knock-knock joke teller. Something like that. Not this, but it wasn't up to me. My job (and Jeremy's) is to love her through all of it. The good, the bad, and the copious amounts of syrup that end up on the computer keyboards.