I want to talk about the stress

that comes from dealing with a family member with mental illness. Depending upon their condition, it can strike suddenly or simmer constantly. In my life the stress comes in waves. Of course, there is the ongoing stress of being a caregiver (on some level).  All the decisions are generally made by me. So I am at the head, regardless of what is happening. That in and of itself brings stress. My husband doesn't know the multiple hats I wear on a daily basis. Sometimes I resent that. The times of absolute relief are when he is hospitalized and the times of sheer survival is when we wait, for that day that he is better or requires hospitalization. These times are what you could refer to as torture. Then there is the constant anxiety when things are going well. When will the next shoe drop? When will the smooth ride end? I have learned to accept the good times without worry. I take it day by day. Yes, I still secretly look at him to watch for the signs... too many smiles or talking to himself. It has taken a long time for me to enjoy his happiness without suspicion. I have to admit that in many ways my fear has come upon me. Like when CPS asked that my children not be with me while they investigated me! Not my husband, they know he has a problem, they were looking at my judgement. This lasted a full weekend, as the social worker was presented with a letter from the psychiatrist that I had obtained prior to his release. My collateral's could tell her the steps that I walk through to make sure that my children are always safe. I had my ducks in a row and the case was dismissed, quickly. I faced my ultimate fear and I sailed through it. So what I can tell you is that my new mantra is "It is what it is." I used to anguish over whether someone would call CPS because of my husband's illness. It came to pass and it was nothing compared to what my fear wanted to make it. So someone calls them? You do what you do anyway, watch for the signs, leave if you need to, get your loved one to the hospital, whatever it takes to get you though the crisis. But you must understand this... you cannot do it alone. You need a support system. I always brought the school into it to help weather the storm. When my husband was missing, I contacted the counselor and let her know that my children were scared. I alerted the office that he should not be showing up there. When he was found, I let her tell them that he was alright, that he was in the hospital or whatever the situation was. I leaned on them and they were a good support. Don't be afraid to ask for help. Find someone that you can trust to tell your deepest fears to. Do not carry this burden alone. And most of all, trust your heavenly father. He will cover you where you cannot cover yourself. He will alert you to steps you must take. Listen to your spirit and you will know what to do. Keep yourself and your children safe, above all else. Your loved one will be better eventually, you have to take care of yourself. That means letting go sometimes. Enlist the help of MHMR or similar programs and let go of the control. Life will get better and your family will stay intact due to your efforts...

Almost the beginning...

It was a hot night in July of 1997. I had married Daniel on March 1st, I was pregnant by May, and he was mentally ill by July. We were living at the university in campus housing. The nice thing about where we lived was the university police. They were autonomous from the city and they took good care of us. I have nothing but good memories of their kindness. So on this night, I was almost asleep when Daniel looked at me and said, "Marrying you was the worst mistake of my life." He then got out of bed and put several shirts on top of each other. He grabbed his portable radio, pager, and walked out of the house. But this was after I had run outside to get the license plate number from his car. When I came back to the apartment, in my bare feet and skimpy clothing, I was locked out. I knocked on the door of my neighbor, she was a ballet dancer and we were casual friends. From her house I was able to watch out the window as he left our home. I called the police and explained that he was mentally ill and that I was concerned for his welfare. They drove around for hours looking for him and eventually found him sitting on a bench on campus. They came and picked me up and we went to get him. When he got into the car, he asked me where he was. He was completely confused and started talking about family members that no longer lived in our area. The police and I were able to talk him into going to the hospital. I went back in my house to get dressed and met them out in the parking lot. The policeman pulled me to the side and he said that Daniel had thrown his wedding ring into the swimming pool. I told him I would get it later and he said, "No, I will get it for you. I know that he did not mean to do that and I want to make sure that he has it back. I will bring it to the hospital and give it to you privately." After we arrived at the hospital the police officer ran up to me and placed the ring in my hand. He said, "I almost fell in getting this for you but I felt like I had to get it for him tonight." I thanked him and hid the ring in my pocket. Once in the emergency room, my husband looked at me and he said, with tears in his eyes, "I threw my ring into the pool." I told him that I knew that and it was alright. He said, "I didn't mean to do that." At that point, I retrieved the ring from my pocket and placed it on his left hand. He said, "Thank you," with great relief. We cried together. This was not the first time that we would cry together. And the most amazing thing is that by the time I arrived back home the maintenance guy had just finished cleaning the pool. Would I have found the ring? This is just one of the many times that the hand of God was clear.

My mother always says...

I should tell a story by starting at the end. Because I tend to confuse my listeners and in this case my readers with all the details without setting the scene. First I would like to tell you that all persons in my household are in their right mind. This has not always been the case. And as recently as a month ago, we had an "event". While it was significant, our response was quick and it settled down very quickly, and I am happy to report that it only lasted 10 days from start to finish. After all my experiences dealing with my husband's illness, this can be categorized as nothing more than a hiccup. My story is full of what I call "gory details" but that is not what I want the focus to be. I want the bigger picture to emerge. This is what I will attempt to do here. Bring forth the big picture. Because while it is an intensely personal story, it can be applied more broadly to public policy and societal issues. The desire of my heart is to bring hope to the hurting, to share with you my personal struggle dealing with a mentally ill person, much less one that is my spouse. There is hope for families in crisis, there is a way to have a successful marital relationship along with the blessings of the children that we have been given. My children are happy and well adjusted, for which to God I give all the glory. Without my faith, without the faith of others (police, social workers, hospital staff, doctors) I would not be here today talking about my life as it is today. Without the numerous miracles along the way, I would not have a husband in his right mind. May God bless you and keep you along the way.