Author: Melissa Howard
For someone who has lived with mental illness for the better part of her life, there have been many opportunities for the people closest to me to show support, which in turn, allowed me to experience their love and acceptance.
These remarks often came from my close friends’ whom I made privy of my struggles. I can appreciate that my parents’ as well as my grandmother, did their best to provide love and support, however, our family lived in chaos and survival mode. Despite my family’s best efforts, I grew up disappointed because their love and support did not always translate into me feeling accepted or validated. I believe this was because they too were struggling to raise a child with complex mental and physical illness. I often felt talked “at” and told what to do, instead of being talked “to” and asked how I needed to be supported.
A therapist shared with me at the beginning of my healing journey that my family loved me, however, they did not know how to express their love when I was experiencing a bipolar episode. She went on to explain that if there is no prior knowledge of what bipolar disorder is and the complexities of the illness, it can often elicit feelings of anger when one is experiencing mania, and frustration during depressive episodes.
Here is a list of questions that were posed to me on my journey towards stability:
“How can I support you?” This question was never posed to me throughout my child and adolescent years. It was the first time I sensed a friend’s empathy and concern for me. It was a tangible question that made me pause and reflect on my own needs. It gave me accountability and allowed me to communicate how I wished to be cared for. I felt seen, heard and validated.
“May I come over and visit or would you like to come over here?” I felt that I had the autonomy to choose if I wanted to be in the presence of company. My friend respected my limitations, however, she provided me with comfort just by asking—knowing she would hold space for me during the times I was in crisis and felt the most unlovable. Her understanding that communicating was difficult for me during these challenging times allowed me to feel supported even when we sat in silence.
“What can I bring you and your family to eat?” This question has always brought me a sense of relief. To know someone could feel empathy towards me and was willing to take the time to think about me and my family has always meant the world to me. During times of depression, the thought of cooking nauseated me and felt like an insurmountable task. Mania created an intense amount of agitation which caused me to lack patience when preparing a meal. I would lose my appetite and would only eat or cook if I was prompted too.
“Have you done something for yourself today?” When I was asked this question I felt that someone cared for my physical well being not just about my mental illness. I was reminded that I was more than the thoughts consuming my mind. Being asked if I took a shower, ate a healthy meal, went for a walk or if I listened to music I enjoyed, made me feel like a human and reminded me about the importance of finding relief in the small things I could do for myself.
The next statements made me feel loved and validated no matter how much of a tailspin my mind was experiencing:
“I know the woman you are, and when you are experiencing an episode, that is not the person I know.” Mania and Depression turned me into someone who was unrecognizable not only to others but also to myself. It was terrifying. To know the people closest to me, understood who I was during my years of stability and remained supportive during my times of crisis—when my symptoms brought out the ugliest aspects of bipolar disorder— made me feel like I was worth loving and that I would not be abandoned when I needed them the most. Despite my best efforts of pushing them away.
“I’m listening.” These two words often opened the floodgates. For most of my life I struggled to be heard. My emotions were invalidated and I had to fight to get someone to acknowledge me. The sheer fact that a friend was giving me the space to speak freely without interruption or advice taught me that what I had to say was important.
“I’m not going to lecture you when I can see you need a hug.” If I was willing to receive a hug it always made me feel better. I received many lectures and unsolicited advice from people who had never experienced or been around someone with a mental health concern or illness. I tuned out people who insisted they knew what was best for me, yet did not have a clue of the complexity of bipolar disorder. For those who live with the disorder the decision to seek treatment most often has to be self directed unless there is the presence of psychosis—which is then deemed a medical emergency and needs immediate attention. For me, when I was forced into treatment my anger and frustration overshadowed the entire purpose and my behaviour reflected this. I would always relapse. I know a hug and empathy would have made me feel accepted even when bipolar disorder was bringing out the worst in me.
“You are safe and you can trust me.” This has always been the most impactful statement I have received from a friend. I lived in fear growing up and developed trust issues. I never knew who I could turn to without the worry of others knowing what I was experiencing. Being aware that I had a friend in my corner, whom I could confide in without the fear of being judged, gave me the confidence to continue with my treatment even on my hardest days.
Though it may appear that I received an abundant amount of support. Many of the words expressed by others came from people I can count on one hand. In saying this, a supportive team does not have to be large to be sufficient and successful. Support will look different for everyone. It may be a family member, physician, long or short time friend, a person of faith, teacher or a neighbour. For me, it only took a few inquisitive questions and strategic statements from people I could trust to compel me to continue with my healing journey. Their support and love allowed me to feel accepted unconditionally.
The content of the International Bipolar Foundation blogs is for informational purposes only. The content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician and never disregard professional medical advice because of something you have read in any IBPF content.
