Put on a Happy Face

Being bipolar has its ups and downs...

That was my attempt at a joke.  I do still have a sense of humor.

But I'm not going to sugarcoat things.  I'm writing this post because a lot of autism parents struggle with depression.  I'm kind of an expert on depression.  I've been battling it since I was nine.  Most of the time, I have a pretty good handle on things.  I take my medication, I see my doctor when I am supposed to, and I fool myself into thinking that I have things under control.

(Control.  That's a funny word.  Does anyone really have any kind of control over their lives???  No.  Life changes on a dime--especially in Autism Land.)

Something happens.  Something unpredictable, something unplanned, something that throws my life completely out of whack...and I don't know how to handle it.  I am unable to function.  I begin to spiral into darkness, and there is nothing, and I mean nothing, I can do to stop it.

Being manic can be fun.  I get so much done it's scary.  I can stay up for 3 days straight and I do artwork all night and I clean the entire house and I talk a mile a minute and I do crazy things like go on spontaneous road trips and jump out of airplanes (yes, yes I did).

Depression is another story.  When the high ends and I crash and burn, it isn't pretty.  I'm very rarely manic.  I am diagnosed as being bipolar II, which means I have more depressive episodes than manic ones.  I've been told I'm hard to live with.


*Just a sidenote--these episodes happen very rarely now, since I take my medication regularly, like a good little girl.

Want to know what happened this month?  It was something pretty stupid.  But it was enough to scare the crap out of me.

Derek got sick.  (He gets sick a lot, so it really shouldn't have been enough to set off an episode for me.  However...)  Derek had a low-grade fever for 9 days.  I had to take him to the doctor twice because he developed an enormous lymph node on his neck that seriously freaked me out.  It looked like a tumor.  So, of course, I thought my son had cancer.  (Have I mentioned that I had cancer as a baby?  So I have an irrational fear that my children will get cancer as well.)  Derek was miserable.  It took antibiotics to get rid of that monster.

The giant lymph node

After that, I had trouble recovering.  I went into what I call a "funk" of depression.  I just couldn't shake it.  Anything and everything stressed me out more than normal and I cried at the drop of a hat.  Simple things became difficult.  It took all of my energy to get out of bed in the morning and get my kids to school on time.

And, then a few more things happened.

I was summoned for jury duty.  (I eventually got out of it, but it took a trip to the courthouse, several phone calls, a doctor's note, and a letter from me to the judge.)

I had to give a speech at an award's ceremony.  

I attended an autism conference.

All of these things would normally be no big deal.  Some of them would actually be fun, if I were my "normal" self.  But when I'm fighting depression and barely making it through each day?  These things are overwhelming and exhausting and terrifying.  That's what happens when you have a mental illness.  Even simple, every day events like picking up your kids from school and making dinner become challenges.  All I wanted to do was sleep.  

I read about things like the bombing at the Boston Marathon and the explosion in Texas and the death of Gavin, the little boy from over at Chasing Rainbows and I think, What is wrong with me???  I have no right to be depressed.  I have it so much better than so many other people.  I need to count my blessings.

Having a chemical imbalance in the brain sucks.

I don't know what it's like to be autistic.  But I do know what it's like to be bipolar.  And being the bipolar mother of an autistic child is HARD.

What am I trying to say?  That it's ok to cry.  Cry behind closed doors if you have to.  Cry in the car.  Cry in the shower.  It doesn't matter.  Nobody is perfect.  Nobody has it all together.  Even the people you think have it all together--they don't.  There is no such thing as a perfect parent.  The best thing you can do is just take care of yourself first, and then love your children to the moon and back.

And here is the most important thing--if you think you need to see a doctor or therapist, don't be afraid to ask for help.  Do it for your kids, if not for yourself.  They need you.  (If you don't have kids, do it for your spouse, or parents, or somebody!!!)  If you end up needing medication--it's nothing to be ashamed of.  There are millions of people on medication for mental illness.  There is no shame in having a mental illness at all!!!  It's just something we don't talk about.  But I'm talking--because someone out there is listening.