Bipolar Interview

Hello everyone!

Today I'm over at Like a Bird with Kendra. She interviewed me about my experience with bipolar disorder as a part of a monthly series on mental illness. She is interviewing one woman a month with a different mental illness, and I'm so honored to have been a part of her inspiring project. To read the post, click on the picture above!

On a different note, I have been floored by the reaction my last blog post received. Wow. I've gotten comments, texts, emails, and Facebook messages. Some are more pleasant than others, but they have all reaffirmed my belief that it is important for us to honestly share our stories. I feared losing friends, but I have only made more. It's been my most popular blog post ever. Thank you to everyone who read, shared, or engaged with me. Interacting with readers is the most rewarding part of my blog. I always love to hear from you! You can leave a comment, email me, or send me a tweet.

Family Therapy

On Monday, we packed into the car and headed to Towson for a family therapy session. This was the first time all four of us were in the same room with a therapist. Here's what everyone thought of it:

Dad's Perspective:

I enjoyed the family therapy session and was very relieved to see that Jenna's therapist is a no-nonsense woman who is not afraid to be very direct. The main take-away for me was coming to peace with the fact that Jenna's illnesses are hers to deal with. That's not to say that the rest of us can't be helpful and supportive, but it's Jenna who needs to manage her own affairs. As much as we would like to remind her that she should put away her laundry/clean her room/study/get out of bed/wash some dishes, we can't continue to do that. She's an adult. She knows these things and must learn to summon the strength and resolve to just do them. Our interactions with Jenna should be positive -- they should be on an adult level -- and they should be enjoyable. We are here to help when she asks for help, but the rest is up to her.

Mom's Perspective:

I looked forward to our session as a family, and I was not disappointed. Having met Jenna's therapist the week before (for a full briefing), I knew she would not let this meeting turn into something useless or way too emotional. I had hope we would have a positive experience together that would shed some light on how to help Jenna and help ourselves deal with Jenna. We were entertained by the therapist's perception that children should start doing their own laundry when they can reach the knobs of the washing machine and dryer. I say 'entertained' because it made us all laugh. However, I think both kids got the message. I was encouraged by the message that it's time for Jenna's dad and me to enjoy ourselves a little bit after spending so much time and effort teaching life lessons. Most of all, I learned something for myself--I want to use better language to reflect what I WANT out of life. I have what I NEED. It sounds like a little thing, but I think it's going to be one of those 'ah-ha' moments when I look back on learning this lesson. 

Ben's Perspective:

Family therapy, for me, did not do much. Having said that, I don't think it was a waste of time. Jenna's therapist was very funny and personable, but she gave you the facts as they were, without any emotional cushion. The session was mainly between my parents and Jenna. I just sat awkwardly between Jenna and my mom, only speaking when prompted. I think it was a good experience for the three of them but a little unnecessary for me.

My Perspective:

Before that session, my family and my therapist existed in two separate worlds. My therapist knows only what I've told her. She sees "Towson Jenna," the college student trying to make her way as a writer while managing bipolar. To her, I must seem charming albeit troubled. I purposely arrange it that way. She does not know that after I make pasta I leave the pot in the sink, that I stay in bed all day too often, and that I can be generally unhelpful at home. Within the first five minutes, my dad made sure to shatter that illusion. My therapist now knows that I can be messy and selfish at home. Although this almost had me in tears, it felt good to know she was finally seeing the whole picture. It reminded me of my time going to church and being told how kind, sweet, and angelic I was. Then I would go home, scream at my parents, fight with my brother, and refuse to do my chores. I always felt like I was tricking my friends at church. It bred more shame and angst. Now that my therapist knows the whole story, I feel more accountable. Hearing how important it was to my parents that I help out at home finally resonated with me. Making messes and being unhelpful is disrespectful. I need to change my behavior to create a healthier home environment for all of us. This is not a bipolar issue, this is general human decency issue. I am not five years old anymore. I know how to do my chores, and I should be doing them without being told. I found this therapy experience to be valuable. I hope we can do it again sometime.

So that sums up our family therapy experience! Have you ever had family therapy? How did it go?

Finding Endor

Today's post is written by my brother, Ben.

So when Jenna asked me to write a blog post for her, I was a little uncertain as to what I would write about. I'm not a psychiatrist, nor am I a doctor. I am by no means an expert on mental illness. I am, however, an expert on one topic: Star Wars. So, through Star Wars, I will attempt to explain my perspective on surviving bipolar disorder.

Like the Rebel Alliance, people with bipolar disorder face struggles every single day. Whether it's blowing up the Death Star or trying to get out of bed, the Rebel Alliance and people with bipolar disorder are always trying to overcome obstacles. Some days may seem like the battle of the ice planet Hoth; the Rebel Alliance is attacked by the Empire with enormous AT-ATs (all-terrain-assault-transports), and they have to hold out until they can escape the frozen planet. But just like the Rebels in The Empire Strikes Back, people with bipolar are courageous enough to face their challenges and push on. From what I've observed, through reality and science fiction, the key to pushing on is to survive to fight another day. People with bipolar have to emulate Han Salo and take every day as it comes. One day, if they're lucky, they'll find their Forest Moon of Endor.

In Return of the Jedi, Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, Princess Leia, Chewbacca, and small strike force land on the Forest Moon of Endor to destroy the shield generator protecting the Second Death Star. Luke ends up with daddy problems, Han feels like he's losing touch with Leia, Chewbacca gets caught in a net, and Leia gets abducted by gerbils with spears (Ewoks). The odds seem to be completely stacked against them! That is, until Luke talks it out with this dad, Han gets to kiss Leia, R2 cuts Chewy out of the net, and Leia gets her hair braided by the Ewoks. In the end, the Rebel Alliance triumphs over the Empire by never giving up, and getting a little help from gerbils with spears.

Although you might not have help from Ewoks, you can still have your Forest Moon of Endor! You have to get up each day, take a shower (you smell worse than the inside of a tauntaun), and drink lots of water with your pills. That is your Forest Moon of Edor. Us non-bipolar people will never understand how difficult those tasks may be, but you still have to face your Empire each day. Discover your Forest Moon of Endor, and destroy the shield generator.

In Ben's Words: Chris

The following post is a guest post written by my younger brother, Ben.

To see another post he wrote, click here.

My sister is a very interesting woman. She has an insatiable thirst for knowledge and incessant need to be the best, or so it seems. These traits are what I think led her to a long, ongoing relationship with Chris. Honestly, I didn't care for Chris at first. I had seen him only once prior to actually meeting him, and it was in a short video where he portrayed an LDS missionary. I wasn't sure what to make of him; he was very sarcastic, straightforward, and didn't care what people seemed to think about him. He also wasn't very polite to my parents which bothered me a little (he has changed since then). I was also protective of my sister, which doesn't show very often, so I already had predetermined animosity towards any man in my sister's life. As time went on, I noticed how relaxed my sister became around him. It was nice to see that after all those years of seeing her trying to impress her 'friends'. 

When Jenna hit her emotional equivalent of rock bottom, Chris stuck by her as supportive as ever. I think he was probably her biggest source of strength. Because of this experience, I will always have the utmost respect for him. I don't know many guys, especially my age, who would stick by their emotionally unstable girlfriend once they even find out that they've cut themselves in the past. Chris stuck through everything. He was here for her literally every single day and then went to the hospital to see her when she was at her lowest.

 Not to get too mushy, but Chris is honestly a very inspirational figure in my life. I now believe that if a significant other in my life was experiencing mental instability on an intense level, I could be there for them through it all. I think Chris has been a positive influence on my family. He gave me insight into a world that I knew very little about: the world of science. Through that world, I've become a a happier, and I believe, more intelligent and aware person. Chris has helped both Jenna and me, though perhaps the latter being inadvertent. Although he and I occasionally squabble, I hope he remains an important addition to our family.

***

Now here's a creepy picture I photoshopped (poorly) of Ben and Chris because I don't have one of the two of them.

I'm considering having Ben write regularly (weekly or bi-weekly) for The Awkward Indie Girl. Even though we'll no longer be living in the same house, he has almost sixteen years' worth of memories to draw from. Would you be interested in reading?

Living with Mental Illness: A Sister's Perspective

This post is written by my soul sister's mom.

I'm very grateful for her influence in my life.

She has been giving me advice for more than ten years, and she has helped me through countless struggles. Claudia and I would sit at the kitchen table with her, and she would talk to us about our lives while we ate Nutella sandwiches without the crust. She treated us with respect and honored our problems. She never made me feel limited by my age.

She truly is my second mother.

This is her story.

***

When I was born, my sister was getting ill with schizophrenia, she was 20 years old and I never got to know how she was before the illness. When I was growing up, for some reason I relied on her for my emotional growth. She became my role model. I looked up at her for many reasons and none of them had anything to do with her illness. I am talking about her strong personality and intelligence, a sense of justice without fear to make the difficult choice, her integrity.

I had fun with her. She was interested in talking about almost anything and loved to elaborate, we talked for hours and that was pure delight. At times we fought, as sisters usually do, and often it ended up with her chasing me down the stairs, that also was a lot of fun. To this day I can’t believe the stroke of luck I had to have her as a sister, the best part of me comes from knowing her.

Yes, there were her symptoms and I would lose her to them for periods of times and I had to be patient and wait for her to get back to me.

When I met her friends, they never failed to ask me about her and let me know what an extraordinary person she was before she got sick. They felt like that person they knew was not there anymore. I was lucky I never felt that, never had to compare the before and after of my sister. And I get them, I know it must be scary to see your daughter or friend get a mental illness, you don’t know what to do or what to say. It’s like if, after a diagnosis, mental illness takes centre stage and gets all the lights.

Well, my experience is that my sister was still there for me to be with and enjoy. That’s why, when dealing with somebody that has a mental illness, to me the goal is to look for the person behind.

Thank you, Teresa.

Tattoos and Mental Health, Continued

I was so happy to see that one of my other cousins, Sierra, responded to my cousin Danielle's post on my blog about her tattoos. I spent a lot more time with Sierra growing up, because she lived much closer to my Grandma. I remember having sleeping overs with her, and we would stay up ridiculously late. On one occasion, we watched TV, played with Barbies, and curled our hair until 4 in the morning. I'll cherish those memories forever.

Thanks, Sierra!

Now, her own words...

***

I saw your blog post about tattoos and overcoming depression, and could instantly relate. After Grandma died I was deeply saddened,  I had already been suffering from depression for about 7 years and was on a lot of meds because of it. When she passed I didn't really know what to do and I was terrified of going deeper into my depression.  While preparing for her funeral, I came to a revelation.  Grandma was such a kind and uplifting person, always pushing for us to grow and just be happy in whatever you do; I just couldn't be sad, she wouldn't have wanted me to. Although Grandma might not have loved tattoos, I decided to get one for her. I decided on a Marigold,  because she always had them planted on her porch out front. I remember spending a lot of time out tending the garden with her; it made her very happy. Today this tattoo makes me feel her love and warmth whenever I see it. Im not sure if the tattoo may have anything to do with my health, but after I got the tattoo I made a choice to go off my antidepressants that I had been on for 7 years. I am proud to say today that it has been an entire year since I have been on any meds for my mental health. And everyday I can look down at my Marigold and thank Grandma.

DISCLAIMER: I am very thankful for the words that Sierra shared. However, I would just like to point out that whenever you make changes to your medication routine, you should consult your doctor. While some people, like Sierra, can go off their medication, others, like me, cannot. The truth is, everyone has a different situation, and mine requires me to take medication for the rest of my life. 

Please be aware of your own situation and take care of yourself!

***

It just struck me how interesting it is that my older cousins have gone through some things very similar to what I am going through. It makes me feel closer to them, and I appreciate them in a new way. If there's any message in this, it would be that opening up can allow you to find support and assurance in unexpected places.

As always, your stories are welcome on my blog. Feel free to contact me through email, Facebook, or Twitter. Just click the Contact Me link at the top of the page.

Living with Mental Illness - A Mother's Perspective

In honor of Mother's Day, a post written by my mother.

Mental illness was always very far away—the homeless men and women on the streets of New York City, the movie stars who surprised us on E! (Kristy McNichol, Carrie Fisher, Margot Kidder), and the characters of plays and novels (One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, A Beautiful Mind, and Girl, Interrupted). While growing up, I was never aware of being around anyone with mental illness. 

Today, mental illness has come closer. It is in my home. I’m not exactly sure how it got here, and it really doesn’t matter how, it’s here. It is here with me every day. Severe depression stole my daughter away from me almost four years ago. After a scary time in December last year, she was diagnosed with bipolar disorder II.

The diagnosis was difficult to hear. It’s crushing to hear a respected doctor say your child has a mental illness. What you hear is, “Your child is sick with a permanent, challenging condition which you must learn to accept and deal with on a daily basis for the rest of your lives.” And then deep down, you hope you have many, many days to deal with this.

Denial came and went for me fairly quickly.  Learning about the situation became my mission. Acceptance has taken time. I have found it difficult to say, “My daughter has bipolar disorder.” We do not have a home of despair or abuse—and I’m afraid people will assume we do. Or they will just wonder what is wrong with us. 

It stung when mental illness came into my house uninvited and took my daughter. I had absolutely NO CONTROL over it. I continue to try to do the right thing in every day life, and that is all I can do. I try to be supportive. I’ve seen glimpses of the old Jenna—the one with the sparkle in her eye as she tells a joke. She’s a beautiful, loving, wonderful young woman, and she’s still there. I just have to work harder to see her sometimes. I’m so glad I’m her mother. Mental illness can’t take that away.

***

If you are interested, the post on my brother's perspective is located here.

Perfectionism and Mental Health

Today's post is a guest post by my friend Matt! He created this image for me as a commentary on the brain and perfectionism. I liked it so much that I asked if he would be willing to write a short piece to accompany it.

***

Original Image by Matthew Dell

Humans are bound by a perception of normalcy. In order to be perfect, we aspire to achieve standards gauged by society that are ultimately subjective and may not be considered 'perfect' elsewhere. In fact, I believe perfection is anything but normal because 'perfect' is a characteristic attributed to individuals or things that exceed the boundaries of society.

Take Bill Gates or Steve Jobs for example:

I'm sure a fairly large number of individuals would characterize one of these men as the perfect inventor. However, neither Gates nor Jobs finished college and instead went on to create unique, innovative systems that are frequently used throughout the world!

People who suffer from mental illnesses may also be perfect.

In fact scientists are asserting now that some famous mathematicians such as Einstein and Newton may have had autism. Even individuals who are considered savants possess amazing abilities that others do not. Society tends to undermine the status of many individuals with mental illness because they may act eccentrically or outside-the-box. But like I said earlier, isn't what we perceive to be the standard outside of the box also?

***

Thank you, Matt. :)

I agree that as a society, we seem to normalize perfectionism. We aspire higher and higher beyond what is reasonable. To some degree, we shun those that are unable to compete with our unreasonable expectations, and we fail to take into account unique circumstance with our one-size-fits-all approach. I feel like we need to stop thinking of the brain as a computational machine that outputs brilliance when all variables are controlled. We need to think of it as a fingerprint. An amazing and original organism that belongs to an amazing and original human.

One of my yoga instructors commented while we stumbled during tree pose. He said, "No one wants to see a perfect tree! Imperfection is beautiful!"

Be gentle with yourself. We can take pride in our imperfections and celebrate our strengths. Try not to allow your perception to be warped by the people around you and by the media. Many of us struggle with perfectionism, but it is a pattern of thinking. Patterns can be broken.

Tattoos and Mental Health

I love my cousin Danielle. When we were younger, I rarely saw her because she lived in the Southwestern United States and I lived in Europe, but I would get very excited when I had the opportunity to see her. My most vivid memory is of us playing "Dolphins" in the pool with my cousin Sierra. Sierra and I were the dolphins, and Danielle was the evil mastermind trying to steal our brains. It was a good time.

When Danielle contacted me about this post, I got excited again. She's actually going to have two posts on my blog this month! This first post is about her tattoos and how they helped her to overcome her depression.

So without further ado...

I know everyone has different opinions on tattoos, but I hope we can all respect Danielle's decisions and her artwork. I love how her tattoos tell an original story, her story, and that wearing this story gives her strength.

If you'd like to see more of her work, check out http://danisaur.com/

And if you would like to share your tattoos because they make you feel empowered, to post them to The Awkward Indie Girl Blog and Photography Facebook Page! We can set up a little gallery if you like :)

If there is something in your life that gives you strength and you would like to be featured on my blog (even anonymously is ok!) send me an email.

xoxo

Jenna

Living with Mental Illness - A Brother's Perspective

This summer at Pike's Peak.

When I found out about my sister's illness, I was mad at her. I really didn’t even understand how it worked. I didn’t understand that it was a chemical problem, I just thought she was being a wuss. So when my dad told me we’d have to move to the States [from Berlin] I was really pissed. We’d just settled in and now we had to leave. I felt like she was just using it as an excuse to sleep in. It sounds bad but it seemed like she was using it to her advantage as much as possible. 

Fast-forward, we’re in the States and I’m still pissed at her. Whenever you’re dealing with somebody with depression, you have to know that walking away can be the best course of action. Sometimes it’s best just not to argue. I didn’t learn this until recently and I wish I had known it long before now. Sometimes the things that she says, like, “I hate you,” can sting for a second, but then you realize that she doesn’t mean it and she’s not in the right state of mind.

When she’s on medication, it can seem to be worse. Sometimes she’s really sleepy and refuses to get out of bed, sometimes she’s practically bouncing of the walls and won’t stop talking/singing. She might be laughing with me one second and snap and start yelling the next. But I always think to myself just to walk it off, and yelling won’t do you any good. I seem to always end up yelling back. It’s really frustrating, but I earnestly try. It’s always a pain, but it’s worth it.

I’m trying to think of a good memory we share…

Back before she was sick, we used to have a lot of fun playing Playmobil. We used to play for hours with these intricate set ups of castles, villages, cities and it was awesome. Obviously we don’t do that anymore, but we still have fun talking. We do that a lot. I’m glad that considering everything, we’re still friends.