Words from another parent...

I am a member of a support group that has been more than helpful and supportive. It is so comforting to know that I'm not alone and the things that my child and my family experiences, others have. When I need to vent or insight, I come to these wonderful people and they've never let met down! Here is a wonderful and insightful post from someone in my support group...

When dealing with all types of illnesses their is a huge amount of fight in accepting what we have to deal with, there are the phases of grief that are all turmultuous no matter how well we appear on the outside. Once we arrive at the acceptance of whatever our circumstance it is always sweet relief that we can rejoin our life with others walking down our path.

I am watching my sweet child work through the phases of grief and he has for the most part moved through quickly, bumping far backward occasionally, but working hard to move forward. He has begun to try to wrap an eight year old mind around a huge amount of adult issues and questions, he is wanting to know the difinitive answers to questions that no one can answer "how long will I have this (bipolar)", "Will I ever be able to do anything that i want to do when i grow up?", "Can I get married and have children?", "Can I ever not have to take meds?", "Will I die from this?". Unfortunately, We cannot answer those questions for him. In the last week, he has been attending day treatment, and it has been a difficult journey of self examination that many do not experience until they are adults. He asked me a question the other night after a brief bout of argument, that was so disheartening "what do you guys want me to do, rock in a corner for the rest of my life?" . He, for so long, wanted to be in the military, a police officer, then wanted to be a game warden. Unfortunately those careers are not always available to those with mental illness, and my child has had to find this out the hard way, through friends and the internet.

I have also had to walk this journey with him, as I have also had to accept this illness for what it is, I have had to time and again accept that my child probably will not be the star quarter back who marries the prom queen, that he will probably always be different than everyone else, and that there may come a time for some decisions that I still have trouble not turning a blind eye to. I have no choice as my childs mother to love him and that love comes with so much pain that at times I want to thow myself into a rage. I feel great desperation and drive to help my child understand this illness before it eats him alive. I just want him to be better, and it scares me to think what life might be if he doesn't. I understand his questions and fear and saddness, and can only console him with thoughts of the positive and how many have been able to live with this forever. I tell him you will make it because you are too strong not to. So we have a long haul and i am preprared with my knapsack and water bottle and mounds of tissues to take this journey with him, to walk, run, kick and scream until someone can make that scary darkness that follows so close behind us I think it might swallow both of us sometimes, but we can fight because if there is a big uphill there is always the sweet relief of downhill... and that downhill will be welcome when we get there. As Paul Coelho wrote; "But there is suffering in life, and there are defeats. No one can avoid them. But it's better to lose some of the battles in the struggles for your dreams than to be defeated without ever knowing what you're fighting for. "