Mother's Day-A Little Late

I didn't write anything for mother's day. I have three beautiful children and a wonderful grandchild, yet something was nagging me all day. I couldn't quite get into the spirit of happiness. Now I know its due to my own inadequacies in dealing with my mentally ill mother.

The Phone Calls

When I was younger the amount of phone calls I would get a day would range from two to ten. I guess it was almost like that pain scale at the doctors, you pick from one to ten how bad it is. Then the doctors know how bad off you are. I could easily judge how bad off she was by the phone call scale. To learn a little more about schizophrenia, feel free to read my article Schizophrenia: What it Is, Symptoms, Diagnosis, and Treatment.

I used to answer all the phone calls. I may have rolled my eyes, or let out that sigh, but I answered that phone. Then something happened. She changed her medicine. The phone calls started to be peppered with the paranoid rants I had grown up listening to. I would try to reason with her, as she was slowly but surely cutting off everyone in the family and otherwise. You can't reason with an unmedicated paranoid schizophrenic though.

Gradually I answered less and less. I would allow two phone calls a day, after that, I would not answer. I would listen to the messages, as she always left one. That way if there was some sort of emergency, I would know it. In the messages it was always an "emergency" but not one I was needed immediately for, so I'd wait until the next day and start over again. She'd always be angry that I never called her, but honestly, when someone's calling you that often, what is left to say?

The phone calls I answer now are rare, maybe once a week I will answer. I don't know if it is the fact that I have my own health issues, or that I'm older now and have a little less patience. When every phone call started ending in her screaming at me and ending with a big beautiful F... You, I decided I just couldn't do it anymore. I know it is her illness that makes he act this way, yet there's only so much one can handle I guess. Please believe me when I say, I had done nothing to bring on the episode. I have been dealing with this my entire life. I know exactly what kind of tone to use, I know exactly how to word everything. Basically, I can walk on eggshells and not break one of them. One of those phone calls was as I laid in a hospital bed on my last lovely trip and subsequent stay at the hospital for my myriad of health issues.

The Guilt

I have since learned that she had gone off one of the major meds needed to control her disease, lithium. I knew she had gone of one that was for manic depression, but had no idea she was without the lithium. This sure explains a lot. The thing is, I can't really talk to her about it, because she confided that fact to my daughter. My oldest daughter has always picked up the slack God bless her. Visiting and calling my Mom when I didn't. Even though my mom told her abut the lithium during an "interview" as Theresa was doing a paper on Schizophrenia and asked my mom to participate, she will still feel violated about Theresa telling me, and I don't want to take away the last person she has not shut out with her paranoid ramblings. So basically my hands are tied. I can't just call her doctor, there's HIPPA. Even if I could call the doctor, it would not make a difference. He could not make her take the lithium, or any other medicine for that matter. She has rights, one being if she doesn't want to take the medicine that makes her totally functional and happy again, she doesn't have to.

Growing up, my mother was much worse off than she is today. Those paranoid ramblings, were also actions. The stories I could tell. Maybe someday I will, but for now I think I'll stick to issue. My grandmother, her mother, and grandfather had me and my Mom living with them, as my dad was also schizophrenic-think of those odds-and my grand mom would take care of my mom. She would try to make sure she took her medicine, and when she didn't take it and had her out of control bouts, Grand mom just took it. And prayed. And hospitalized her when she would become a danger to herself or others.

I for some reason, despite the fact that she' s my own mother, do not have the patience my grand mom had. The guilt of that is sometimes overwhelming. See, there's something I always said to my kids as they were growing up, and still do today. Turn it around. Whatever the situation was, it could always apply. Turn it around, and how would you feel if the positions were reversed. It seems to have worked well with them. Too bad I don't follow my own advice. Oh I've turned it around alright, and I'm sure not happy with myself.

If I was ill like that, I can't imagine my child not calling me until 5:00 PM on mother's day. Yes, I dread these phone calls and put it off until the last minute. I know that in upwards of twenty to thirty messages a week is unreal, but I can't imagine making all those calls and getting one phone call back a week. No wait, I can. My middle daughter rarely talks to me, however, I am luckily securely grounded in this world and don't leave twenty or more messages on her phone. The aftermath that usually follows after a while of not calling is an amazing amount of guilt, no matter what she says.

I know that someday the guilt will be even worse. She is not going to live forever, and I know that. I know I will have guilt beyond belief that I wasn't more patient, more understanding. I just can't seem to stop myself though.

Mother's Day

So while everyone was celebrating their mothers, I was just blank. I did not dwell on the things I had to deal with growing up. I did not dwell on the fact I was more her mother than her mine. I actually didn't think of her at all, which I believe is much worse. Have I become so calloused to this disease and her at this point that I can just act as if it never was?

This I"m sure affected my kids, although pretty much grown now. I'm sure they can tell when I'm happy and when I'm not. I wonder what they thought of my quiet demeanor that day. See, there's this trickle down affect when there's a schizophrenic in the family. I actually did an article on this called Having Schizophrenic Parents.

Why I'm Writing This

Well, after some thought, I realized why I was not exactly chipper on Mother's day. I also thought of the many adult children of mentally ill parents. They need to know they are not alone in the roller coaster of emotions that goes along with having a parent, or parents with this disease. My advice is to seek out a strong support system now. You may feel like you can do it on your own, or that you don't want strangers involved, but trust me when I say its best for the entire family, and perhaps even your future family if you're young and unmarried yet.

That support system of course includes friends and family. Far more important in the long run though is a support system of counselors, doctors, and even groups that meet. It is very helpful to speak with others whose families have the same issues. Not only does it make you feel like you're not stranded on a deserted island anymore, but you can share tips and strategies too.

Of course the things available to you will be very state, even township specific. Because of this, I have not listed support groups etc. Rather you need to refer to the blue pages in your local phone book. You can even call the nearest hospital and ask for the psychiatric wing. Ask them for help, for resources. The link above, about having Schizophrenic Parents also lists some helpful resources.