Our Melee with Mental Illness

This was a hard one to write. Most of my posts are about our kiddos or random things floating around in my brain. Generally I prefer to be sarcastic (and presumably funny).But this…this is a much more serious topic. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to write about this, but I thought it would be good for me and hopefully helpful to others experiencing a similar situation. And I want others to know there is no shame in getting help for mental illness. The only shame would be not getting the help you need and dealing with what could be dire consequences.

Mental illness is no stranger to Zippercow or myself.  Chronic depression (I’m not really sure what the clinical term is) is prevalent in my family and Zippercow encountered some pretty serious struggles in his teen years. Since then we’ve both managed to keep ourselves put together for the most part. Until recently.

It started with a phone call.  Every Sunday when I’m at work I call and check in with Zippercow and the kids during my morning break. Mostly just to say hi and see if they need me to get anything on the way home. It was different this day. He was REALLY frustrated with the children, not his usual “the kids woke when you left (at 6:10 am) and are being especially “pleasant” as a result” frustrated, this was different. He sounded off. I gave him some ideas for the kids and said “ I don’t care what you do, but find something to occupy them, a movie, candy, whatever works and I will deal with them when I get home”.

When I got home he was sitting in the recliner and his face was void of, well…anything. I was hoping he just really needed a break. I packed up the kids and took them with me grocery shopping. We returned and while he had showered he was back in the recliner and unresponsive. We agreed that a good night’s sleep was needed (since we hadn’t slept well the previous few nights) and we went to bed earlier than usual (at least I think we did?).

The next morning he got up to shower, returned to our room and didn’t come out. As far as I knew he was doing just fine. I was wrong. When I went in he was laying in bed, fully dressed. I asked him if he wasn’t feeling well thinking maybe he had come down with something. “I just can’t do it” he said. “Do what? Go to work?” I asked. “yes” he replied. Now I was really worried. Even on his worst grumpy days (and that is really what his worst days were, just unexplained grumpiness) he still went about his day like normal. This was new, and much more serious. I let him sleep for a little bit but then came in and opened the curtains. I told him “It is fine to take a mental health day, but you will not stay in bed and sleep all day. You can play your game, read your book (which I handed him, Mockingjay if you were curious) or hang out with us but sleeping all day is not an option, it will only make it impossible to sleep at night making your problems worse”. I was calm and kind (but stern) when I said this. I let him be and checked in on him throughout the morning. Around noon he was still in bed but reading. I went in and told him “I think it’s time, today you will call and make an appointment with a someone.” We cried silently together and it was set in motion.

Photo provided by The Gemini Geek

I suppose it would help to know that we’ve always treated our mental illness (or potential for) very matter of factly and have talked about at length that if one or the other of us says it is time to seek professional help we will trust each other and go.

It was time.

I did some research and found someone close to his work and asked him “ Are you going to call or would you like me to?” He opted to have me call and we set it up. Three weeks out, but still, just knowing that relief was on its way seemed to help him.

A little.

Each day since has been a bit of a rollercoaster on the verge of collapse. I would think he was feeling better and without notice his mood would change drastically. It took all of my energy to stay calm and supportive of him and also stay calm for the kids. We joke. He isn’t in the dark of his condition, he is fully aware and just wants to feel better. This at least is promising. Now we need to just get to his appointment in one (if slightly fractured) piece. Unfortunately this happened to be a week of many obligations that required me to be away from home. While I wasn’t concerned that anything would happen to the kids, I certainly didn’t want to leave anything to chance so I worked tirelessly at setting up help and support for Zippercow and arranged a few options in case it was “just too much”.  We made it through the first week mostly. I kind of had a melt down after the first week. In times of trouble or stress I always look to Zippercow for support, this of course is not possible when he is having difficulty dealing with his own stuff, I don’t need to put more on his shoulders, or worse unintentionally make him feel guilty. I have been honest with my feelings with him during the last week but I certainly didn’t unload on him or complain about how tough this has been for me.

But it has been.

I have felt so totally isolated and helpless. And it is has terrified me to see Zippercow this way.Zippercow doesn’t mind if I talk to other adults about it, he is not ashamed of something he has no control over, but he does not want the kids to know, for now. It is about now that I realize I haven’t been all that great of a friend to my friends and feel bad unloading all this on them. How can expect others to be there for me if I haven’t been all that supportive of them?Am I handling this okay? This is just one week, what if this goes on for much longer, if there are problems his treatment? So I start my own spiral. I don’t think my occasional breakdowns are a sign of my own mental illness, but just a release of a weeks worth of keeping things together. It takes so much effort to keep everyone engaged and create some normalcy for the kids.

I’m grateful for my family, for a husband who has the wherewithal to get help when he needs it. A man who loves me and our children and even on the worst days does not lash out at me or the kids. That would cost too much.

Yesterday was a bad day.

And today, well he left work in the middle of the day. Just left.

And came home.

Two weeks left.

Did I mention we also put down a lot of money on a fence Zippercow is supposed to start building next week? And we have a multiple family events to attend during Easter weekend?

I’m trying not to panic. One day at a time. We will take it one day at a time.

**Update** It is a week later and fortunately Zippercow seems to be himself as far as I can tell. I hesitated to post this and wanted his permission and thought it best to wait  until he was feeling more baseline. He still doesn’t trust himself and has asked me to keep him in check but also claims to be feeling much more normal and is currently helping to get our fence in. I’m proud of the steps he’s taken to be healthy and I support his efforts to not only be physically healthy, but mentally healthy for himself and our family.

* I would like to thank our friends and family that have been there for us in many ways. Everyone that helped to dig out the fence line contributed to one of Zippercow’s good days. Also I know posting this may get negative feedback from friends or family who think poorly of those who seek mental health services.