Sunday, February 10, 2013

Breathing my way into good parenting

Reminder: deep breaths.  When my middle-schoolers are pushing back.  When they are trying to make their points.  When they think they know better. 

I am quick to anger.  Then I yell.  Then I start excessively punishing and taking away privileges.  Today, I took away electronics, phone and the school dance.  And yelled.  Because of back-talk in the car.  When I had a headache.

It creates a cycle:  We then cool down and have a discussion.  Everyone apologizes.  The kids are on their best behavior.  They tip-toe around me as if they are walking on eggshells.  Then I feel guilty.  I admit I was excessive, apologize again, and then give them back the privilege.  Then I feel like crap

The hardest part for me is this self-analysis:  Does my bipolar make me quick to anger?  Does it contribute to the excessiveness of the punishment?  Does it create guilt that keeps me from following through with a consequence?  And the worst:  Are my kids afraid of me?

I realize that at 11, 13 and 15 that my kids are going to hate me at times.  I get that.  The harder part is looking at my behavior and decisions and wondering if I have been fair, yet firm.

For now, I just want to breathe.  And relax.  And do everything I can to get this headache to go away so that I can be a better mother. 

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

3:30 in the morning

It is 3:30 in the morning.  I am not tired. I am hungry. For PB and J on soft, new bread.

I am bipolar. I am a mom to three fun and funny middle schoolers. I am also a high level executive at one of the worlds largest companies. I was diagnosed 14 years ago and on various medications ever since. I am mostly well. And always scared as I know what the abyss really feels like. It terrifies me.

I have an amazing husband.  I remember hearing somewhere that some ridiculous percentage of marriages with a bipolar person end in divorce.  My husband's dedication has kept our marriage strong. I know I am lucky.

I know the inside of a psych ward. I know the burden of stigma and secrecy. I know the feelings of inadequacy when I have to question whether my feelings or perception are "real" or warped.

I have wanted to write about this for a long time.  Partly because it is carthartic for me, but more importantly, I feel I need to share that people with diagnosed mental illness have plenty of tools available, and can be successful

I look forward to our shared efforts so thank you for honoring me with your time. More to come.  For now, however, I am going back to bed.