Thank you so much for this. My mom's side of the family has a lot of hereditary bipolar, and there are things you get at with this essay that are peculiar to BP and often really hard to wrap your head around. & it's just a great read, as always. We were watching "How to With John Wilson" last night (good stuff, btw) and an ad for this show popped on - kind of a hilarious synchronicity. Telemarketing jobs are the worst! https://www.hbo.com/telemarketers
This brings back such memories. I remember the carzy businesses my dad would start when he was in manic phase. Or he would spend all our savings on "sapphire" rings and a topless (!) bathing suit for my mom, or a pristine '69 Thunderbird convertible. (I admit, I loved that car, but I had no idea about the consequences - I was 8 or 9 years old). He was "fun dad" for my brother and me when manic, but as an adult, I understand what hell that must have been for my mom.
I think I've repressed the depressed phases. My mother told me later that he would spend weeks in bed, which was a sofa bed in the living room. I just remember not being able to have friends over to our one bedroom apt, not even to play in the bedroom I shared with my brother.
After diagnosis my dad was on medication for years. He seemed to keep an even keel. But I lived hours away and didn't see him or his second wife all that much.
I am ashamed that I was ashamed of him. No one asks for this kind of disease. Thank you for focusing more light on this difficult subject. You are generous to share your experiences.
There is so much that is beyond comprehension when you are a child. Advances in drug therapy and understanding mental health conditions and using talk therapy have evolved. I was told, when objecting to a heavy antipsychotic that was prescribed for my relative decades ago, that " before this, we used high pressure water hoses". Draconian.
Now we have to get rid of the stigma associated with mental illness.
Rachel, thank you for sharing this. It helps me greatly to hear of other people's experiences with bipolar people—a view from the outside. Yeah, mania is fun until it's not.
We all know that song. I've listened to that song sooo many times. And, yet, I've never sat down and really listened to it and pondered the lyrics. I think Jimi's guitar can make the lyrics seem less important. But, wow, that song really captures the feeling of mania... "sweet mess" indeed.
Thank you for this story. I'm glad you have been getting help. I think you should be so proud of where you've taken yourself. I wanted to go to fashion institute of technology in NYC but I was afraid. I had tickets to take my son to see "Avenue Q" in NYC but I cancelled because I was afraid. You were born with hydrocephalus and you were not afraid. 💕
Oh, yes, that fear. Damn. I would sometimes be so messed up that I'd cancel gigs at the last second. I wouldn't be able to get out of bed, let alone travel to the airport to fly for hours. That fear, that fear.
It amazing how normal trauma is for us until either the perspective of time or friends giving you the wide-eye in the middle of drinking story time clues you in to the possibility of...out of bounds. Lol. Also, that we experience that trauma and either continue to inflict it on those we love or heal imperfectly, no matter the cause...saddens me. Grieving a bit tonite over these things.
What a read! Because you allow your vulnerabilities to show, they seem like blooms to me---I can wander through the gardens you share as you open the gates and invite us in---and I find it so beautuful and emotional and encouraging. You are made of strong stuff! I read your memoir not long ago; I cried and raged and rejoiced along with you; found in you someone I admire, someone I could trust, someone I would want as friend... thank you...
Kia ora Sherman, an insightful essay, thank you. In a world gone crazy, I can understand how you would want to make yourself literally bulletproof!
We had billionaire preppers flying from the US to their well provisioned bunkers in Aotearoa over Covid .
While not promoting mental illness as a gift I note that the 2 friends I had with bi-polar were high functioning individuals across a range of fields (including mental health) & extremely creative. They were fun to be with in the beginning of the manic phase and impossible as it progressed.
A sibling has schizophrenia. He refused the label for years, finding ' drug induced psychosis' less stigmatising. I often wondered how much was illness and uncontrollable & what was bad behaviour & addiction. I'm glad that you write about this with your mother & also your awareness of off kilter behaviours while still pursuing them.
Time, age, meds, great nurses and whanau support ( including from his kids) have all helped my bro be well. The most critical thing has been his developing awareness and acceptance of his illness.
Thank you so much. And, yes, I never got better until I admitted that I was sick. Thank you for sharing this about your sibling. I wish all of you well.
Thanks. He's great. Sole parent to two teens & raising them well. Recently, he spoke wistfully about how his life might have been without his illness. A talk I never imagined we'd have. He had a great degree, very handsome.
Then- breakdown , hefty antipsychotics, a lot of compulsory treatment in hospital.
I was diagnosed with bipolar 2 whatever that means. I guess I’m denying my diagnosis. My grandmother would roll around and speak in tongues. This is what my mother told me. I do remember one manic episode, when I was 11, we were driving home after a nice vacation at the beach. During the ride home Gramma started talking about snakes on a cross and something about Jesus and God. I was terrified. Although I haven’t spoke in tongues or see snakes slithering on a cross, I have had terrible shopping sprees and once I went to a Buddhist monastery for a month after my divorce ( this was before Eat, Pray, Love). I am a hairdresser. I do not have the means to take off for a month lol. Many impulsive behaviors. I almost bought a months worth of food in a bucket as well but it was too expensive for me.
I dunno why I’m even typing this long response. Am I being manic? Your story telling definitely hits the target for me more often than not. Thanks for sharing Sherman. There is something comforting in not feeling alone.
I didn't fully accept my diagnosis for more than a decade. And though there is disagreement about whether a child can be diagnosed as bipolar, I believe my illness began when I was around eight years old.
We're 45 miles east of Spokane so we have lots of number 6 cans of dried food. My husband also bought 50 lbs of grits and pinto beans and 100 lbs of rice (there's just the two of us). We might need them someday but the biscuit mix went bad after 8 years 😉
What a story, Sherman ... awful stuff to go through, but your understanding and empathy shine. My email to you is from mltabor@me.com and may have gone into your spam. Still hoping here for a reply as August rolls away and the fall is coming ... Love your work and your posts.
This is awful, and awesome. At the risk of coming off like a creeper...are we like f&K#ing brothers or something? I also had a scammy call-center job for a birthday-party company (Downers Grove, IL). And I wrote a damn book about my pizza delivery misadventures. And my mother used to sneak through the house, convinced that a strange man was making duck sounds to terrorize us. (It was the smoke detector, quacking as the battery died.) My mother would flop on the floor wailing that she was blind, and then stand up like nothing had happened when she didn't cause the drama that she had hoped. She was adamant that neighbors were creeping around the house and peeping on us. I was convinced she was crazy—until one night the neighbor lady scared the living s&%t out of me when I saw her face hovering in the living room window. She was drunk and her husband was gone and her baby was asleep and didn't I want to come over, just for a little bit? (I totally did want to go over, but I didn't. The husband liked guns.)
Yep. Me, too. Thanks.
I was quoting Suzy Song from Smoke Signals...did you catch that? I have shown that movie for students so many times I know the script!
I missed it! hahahahahah!
"Good story!"
Thank you, Eunice.
Thank you so much for this. My mom's side of the family has a lot of hereditary bipolar, and there are things you get at with this essay that are peculiar to BP and often really hard to wrap your head around. & it's just a great read, as always. We were watching "How to With John Wilson" last night (good stuff, btw) and an ad for this show popped on - kind of a hilarious synchronicity. Telemarketing jobs are the worst! https://www.hbo.com/telemarketers
A bipolar person can behave out of character. That's the most distressing part. And, wow, I'll watch that documentary.
This brings back such memories. I remember the carzy businesses my dad would start when he was in manic phase. Or he would spend all our savings on "sapphire" rings and a topless (!) bathing suit for my mom, or a pristine '69 Thunderbird convertible. (I admit, I loved that car, but I had no idea about the consequences - I was 8 or 9 years old). He was "fun dad" for my brother and me when manic, but as an adult, I understand what hell that must have been for my mom.
I think I've repressed the depressed phases. My mother told me later that he would spend weeks in bed, which was a sofa bed in the living room. I just remember not being able to have friends over to our one bedroom apt, not even to play in the bedroom I shared with my brother.
After diagnosis my dad was on medication for years. He seemed to keep an even keel. But I lived hours away and didn't see him or his second wife all that much.
I am ashamed that I was ashamed of him. No one asks for this kind of disease. Thank you for focusing more light on this difficult subject. You are generous to share your experiences.
There is so much that is beyond comprehension when you are a child. Advances in drug therapy and understanding mental health conditions and using talk therapy have evolved. I was told, when objecting to a heavy antipsychotic that was prescribed for my relative decades ago, that " before this, we used high pressure water hoses". Draconian.
Now we have to get rid of the stigma associated with mental illness.
Rachel, thank you for sharing this. It helps me greatly to hear of other people's experiences with bipolar people—a view from the outside. Yeah, mania is fun until it's not.
The term 'Manic Depression' always gets the Hendrix song playing in my head.
I listened to it today after your Noir film comment & read the lyrics .
Jimi has quite the poem going on about the sweetness of music and love...and then the last verse, sinking down.
It sounds very personal and true.
We all know that song. I've listened to that song sooo many times. And, yet, I've never sat down and really listened to it and pondered the lyrics. I think Jimi's guitar can make the lyrics seem less important. But, wow, that song really captures the feeling of mania... "sweet mess" indeed.
Thank you for this story. I'm glad you have been getting help. I think you should be so proud of where you've taken yourself. I wanted to go to fashion institute of technology in NYC but I was afraid. I had tickets to take my son to see "Avenue Q" in NYC but I cancelled because I was afraid. You were born with hydrocephalus and you were not afraid. 💕
Oh, yes, that fear. Damn. I would sometimes be so messed up that I'd cancel gigs at the last second. I wouldn't be able to get out of bed, let alone travel to the airport to fly for hours. That fear, that fear.
It amazing how normal trauma is for us until either the perspective of time or friends giving you the wide-eye in the middle of drinking story time clues you in to the possibility of...out of bounds. Lol. Also, that we experience that trauma and either continue to inflict it on those we love or heal imperfectly, no matter the cause...saddens me. Grieving a bit tonite over these things.
yes, yes, yes, this is all true.
What a read! Because you allow your vulnerabilities to show, they seem like blooms to me---I can wander through the gardens you share as you open the gates and invite us in---and I find it so beautuful and emotional and encouraging. You are made of strong stuff! I read your memoir not long ago; I cried and raged and rejoiced along with you; found in you someone I admire, someone I could trust, someone I would want as friend... thank you...
Thank you, Toni.
Kia ora Sherman, an insightful essay, thank you. In a world gone crazy, I can understand how you would want to make yourself literally bulletproof!
We had billionaire preppers flying from the US to their well provisioned bunkers in Aotearoa over Covid .
While not promoting mental illness as a gift I note that the 2 friends I had with bi-polar were high functioning individuals across a range of fields (including mental health) & extremely creative. They were fun to be with in the beginning of the manic phase and impossible as it progressed.
A sibling has schizophrenia. He refused the label for years, finding ' drug induced psychosis' less stigmatising. I often wondered how much was illness and uncontrollable & what was bad behaviour & addiction. I'm glad that you write about this with your mother & also your awareness of off kilter behaviours while still pursuing them.
Time, age, meds, great nurses and whanau support ( including from his kids) have all helped my bro be well. The most critical thing has been his developing awareness and acceptance of his illness.
Kia kaha, you're doing great work here.
Thank you so much. And, yes, I never got better until I admitted that I was sick. Thank you for sharing this about your sibling. I wish all of you well.
Thanks. He's great. Sole parent to two teens & raising them well. Recently, he spoke wistfully about how his life might have been without his illness. A talk I never imagined we'd have. He had a great degree, very handsome.
Then- breakdown , hefty antipsychotics, a lot of compulsory treatment in hospital.
I'm so pleased to have my little bro back!
Yes!
Thank you. Pizza delivery was so much more rewarding (aside from the deathtrap pizza cars).
Deathtrap Pizza Cars would be a great name for a band!
Hahahaha, it is a great title. I'm going to use it for a story!
I love this essay! Sprinkled generously with your humor and that wise reflective quality that you have.
I worked for three market research firms, and have sold long distance AND even lightbulbs for one 4 hour afternoon shift before I quit.
“Lightbulbs? Why would I buy your lightbulbs?”
Talk about depressing. Great esssy! Thank you!
Thank you. Another subscriber linked to this forthcoming HBO documentary about telemarketing.
https://youtu.be/5EhxXmSsdOs
I was diagnosed with bipolar 2 whatever that means. I guess I’m denying my diagnosis. My grandmother would roll around and speak in tongues. This is what my mother told me. I do remember one manic episode, when I was 11, we were driving home after a nice vacation at the beach. During the ride home Gramma started talking about snakes on a cross and something about Jesus and God. I was terrified. Although I haven’t spoke in tongues or see snakes slithering on a cross, I have had terrible shopping sprees and once I went to a Buddhist monastery for a month after my divorce ( this was before Eat, Pray, Love). I am a hairdresser. I do not have the means to take off for a month lol. Many impulsive behaviors. I almost bought a months worth of food in a bucket as well but it was too expensive for me.
I dunno why I’m even typing this long response. Am I being manic? Your story telling definitely hits the target for me more often than not. Thanks for sharing Sherman. There is something comforting in not feeling alone.
I didn't fully accept my diagnosis for more than a decade. And though there is disagreement about whether a child can be diagnosed as bipolar, I believe my illness began when I was around eight years old.
We're 45 miles east of Spokane so we have lots of number 6 cans of dried food. My husband also bought 50 lbs of grits and pinto beans and 100 lbs of rice (there's just the two of us). We might need them someday but the biscuit mix went bad after 8 years 😉
I really liked this one.
Thank you.
What a story, Sherman ... awful stuff to go through, but your understanding and empathy shine. My email to you is from mltabor@me.com and may have gone into your spam. Still hoping here for a reply as August rolls away and the fall is coming ... Love your work and your posts.
This is awful, and awesome. At the risk of coming off like a creeper...are we like f&K#ing brothers or something? I also had a scammy call-center job for a birthday-party company (Downers Grove, IL). And I wrote a damn book about my pizza delivery misadventures. And my mother used to sneak through the house, convinced that a strange man was making duck sounds to terrorize us. (It was the smoke detector, quacking as the battery died.) My mother would flop on the floor wailing that she was blind, and then stand up like nothing had happened when she didn't cause the drama that she had hoped. She was adamant that neighbors were creeping around the house and peeping on us. I was convinced she was crazy—until one night the neighbor lady scared the living s&%t out of me when I saw her face hovering in the living room window. She was drunk and her husband was gone and her baby was asleep and didn't I want to come over, just for a little bit? (I totally did want to go over, but I didn't. The husband liked guns.)
Thank you for sharing this piece.
"Scam, scam, scam, enit?"
Ha! Brothers from bipolar mothers!