When I was 7 years old, my mother was dealing with mental disorders. Her moods and personalities changed. At times she’d physically hurt me, and later she’d be in tears. Some days she seemed fine. It was confusing for a child. I once saw her on the railings outside of our 10th floor apartment threatening to jump. My mother admitted herself for a psychiatric evaluation. My father cared for her after she was discharged. My aunt watched over me during this time. Eventually, my mother recovered and was able to manage her moods, but that period of time left an impression on me.
I learned about my mother’s mental disorders from my father later on in life. Her official diagnosis was manic depression (now known as Bipolar Disorder). Looking back she exhibited behavior that was more than bipolar disorder. Doctors would prescribe various medications. According to my father, my mother reacted negatively to many medications like lorazepam. She also had insomnia and would be awake for days. It seemed like every time she found a medication that worked, eventually it stop working. Then she’d try another medication and repeat that cycle over again.
My mother was frustrated with the lack of results with western medicine, that she sought complimentary treatments with herbal remedies, supplements, folk medicine, and Traditional Chinese Medicine.
She also sought spiritual healing through church like deliverance ministry. She prayed everyday. My father said that although my mother had a hard time concentrating, she developed a habit of reading the bible daily and that seemed to calm her down. While there seemed to be some progress, every day was touch and go with no end in sight.
I asked my father what helped my mother heal and recover. The answer surprised me. It wasn’t a medication or herbal remedy. It was something that he couldn’t explain. It was supernatural.
My mother woke up one day and recovered. This happened on Christmas. It was a Christmas miracle. I was able to return home to be with my parents. From that day forward, my mother was better. It wasn’t all sunshine and roses. She was fighting depression during her bout with cancer. My mother passed away when I was 14 years old.
Unfortunately, she passed away before our relationship could really be repaired. I was close with my mother, but it felt as I was distant. I subconsciously held on to feelings of hurt and abandonment and it would take years before I processed those feelings.
The truth is I couldn’t comprehend why my own mother would hurt me, her son. Her apologies seemed empty when she repeatedly hurt me after her apology. My parents tried to explain mental disorders to me. It is hard to separate a persons actions from the person. Symptoms of mental disorders are often seen as moral deficit. It was difficult to accept that she wasn’t cognizant of her actions or did not act deliberately.
I think a lot of people have difficulty understanding when a loved one has mental disorders. Sometimes it seems like that their disorder is used as an excuse for their actions. I know I had trouble with my mother’s actions and that prevented me from fully trusting her, fearing her, and prevented us from fully reconciling. My mother often apologized to me in her last days. And when she died, I hugged her and as I cried, the only words I could express repeatedly “I’m sorry.”
For some reason, I did not realize how much my mother loved me until later on in life. I saw the positive impact of those around her. When she was well, she’d often help and serve others. When she was not, she’d confine herself at home. I perceived the dichotomy of her violent actions at home and her altruism as hypocritical. I saw her altruism as fake and her violent self as real. I now know that her mental disorder prevented her from living her life to the fullest. It took me years to realize that she was a kind and caring person majority of her life, and that my perception of her were just the short time of her mental disorder replaying over and over in my head.
I never really considered how frustrated and sad she was as a mother. Looking back my mother had guilt and shame for things outside of her control, primarily her health issues (mental disorder and cancer) that interfered with her duties of being a mother. Subconsciously, I thought she didn’t care about me. I often thought that the people that watched over me cared about me more than her. I now know that I was wrong. My mother, like most mothers, genuinely love their children but sometimes circumstances get in the way.
I never even considered the possibility that I may have mental disorders. I thought everything was alright until, I had my own bouts with depression, when I sought professional help. During that time, I saw bits of my mother in me. I hurt people, pushed them away, frustrated, depressed, suicidal, and violent.
It help release my anger and hurt towards my mother and replace it with love. When my doctor diagnosed me with bipolar disorder, I started my own journey to find answers and solutions of my own.
Disclaimer: I am not a doctor, nutritionist, or registered dietician. I do not claim to help cure any condition or disease. I do not provide medical aid or nutrition advise for the purpose of health or disease.
The information I provide is based on my personal experience and is for educational purposes only and is not intended to be a substitute for medical treatment by a health care professional. Information provided here does not take the place of professional medical advice.
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-Holan
