C'mon Ride the Potty Train

Ok, so this post has absolutely nothing to do with Bipolar. I am making my 900th attempt to toilet train my youngest child. I have been trying for the last year. This child has a stubborn streak larger than the State of Texas and has steadfastly refused to train although all the physical signs of readiness have been present.

I am now determined to win. He remains just as firmly determined that I will not succeed as always. Did I mention his bladder is larger than his stubborn streak? It exceeds the size of the State of Alaska. I missed getting him on the potty first thing this morning, so he filled up--and I really mean filled up--his Pull-Up (we had a nasty stalemate all day yesterday). At present, he is running around nude from the waist down because I know he won't go without his Pull-Up. He has not gone since he woke up this morning. He is also a drinker--well I don't mean that the way it sounded--but he takes in a lot of fluid. Twice as much as my other two, so I'm really pumping them into him today. Yet, he still doesn't go.

I have offered every imaginable bribe to this child. I have withheld dessert. I have turned the faucet on. I have put his hand in warm water. I have poured that warm water on his pee-pee. I have been the encouraging, patient, cheerleading mom. I sang to him. I did the potty dance. I have had my ability to hear high pitches decreased by a few levels, have been hit in a number of areas, had my glasses knocked off my face, had my heart tugged at, have been highly irritated inside, but my will has yet to break.

What the ***bleeeeeeep*** do I do? I refuse to give up, but Christ this child is going to kill me before he will pee on the potty. He says he doesn't want toys, he hates dessert now, and he really, really, really, really hates the potty. He argues that he is not a big boy, he's just a little kid. I tell him the operative word in that sentence is kid, not baby. I think he thinks I'm splitting hairs.

What do you do when they just don't want to do it? I've tried every suggestion that has been given to me. I will try anything short of duct taping him to the toilet (and even that is starting to look enticing to me).

When someone tells you it's much harder to potty train a boy, they aren't kidding. When you are trying to train the youngest boy, it's downright impossible. If he's a Capricorn on top of it, you might as well load up on tranquilizers or tequila. Either would come in handy. I don't recommend both...the combination is too tempting.

When Opportunity Presents Itself

I'm back on the subject of my friend again. Her Step-mother called my Aunt yesterday asking if I could call my friend to talk. As you know, I've been wanting to talk to her to see if I could help; maybe make a difference in what she is going through. I know she feels alone. Now that the opportunity may be here, I'm wondering what I should say.

My primary concern is whether or not she would welcome the call. I was told that it was suggested to her and she jumped at the chance. Later I was told that when it was suggested to her she "seemed receptive" to it. That's a big difference! I have concerns about how she will feel that her condition has been discussed as widely as it has been at all. I know I'd be a little pissed if I had been the focus of conversation independently without my consent, especially with someone I knew 100 years ago, bipolar or not. Then again, I also know my family and on some level am resigned to the fact that I'm going to be the object of discussion, whether I like it or not. I'd still be highly irritated by it.

I would not welcome such a phone call, myself. Maybe this is part of my concern. It's hard not to project yourself onto this kind of a situation. I'd resent someone intruding on my personal business. If I don't directly approach someone, then it's none of their concern. I'm intensely private that way. Maybe she is different. Maybe she needs someone to reach out to her. These are things I have to find out first, but I am also worried about whether or not I'd be given the complete truth. It may be one of those things that is being set up "for her own good." That could be disastrous.

Assuming those concerns are put to rest, then I wonder what I would say. Of course I would let things progress naturally, but I have to wonder what would come up and how I'd handle it. Are her struggles vastly different than mine? Have we experienced some of the same things? We are not all alike. I know there will be much we can relate to, but I don't want to screw anything up, either. I just feel like I might be jumping into the abyss. I like having a handle bar. I'm sure everything would work out fine and I'm working myself up for nothing, but this is how my mind works. How it doesn't work, rather.

I think I put a lot of pressure on myself not only because I want to help so much, but because I am genuinely concerned for her well-being. I know how hard-fought the battle for stability can be, especially when you feel so desperately alone. She has family that would do anything for her, but good intentions aren't enough. I've found that good intentions from loved ones usually lead to feelings of pain and guilt on the part of the Bipolar person more than anything else. Loved ones want so much for you to be well; they simply want to make you feel better. That's all you want too. In the absence of being able to give them that, you just feel guilty and like a failure for letting them down. Then comes the inevitable anger at them for being so damned demanding. How can they not see that you are doing your fucking best here? Just get off my back because you don't know what this is like!!!! Then comes the guilt again, only a thousandfold. If only I could snap out of this...if only I weren't such a phenomenal loser. I am so sick of myself...I am tired of being trapped in this head of mine...and a litany of other self-flagellating thoughts.

I can only hope that I can provide her some comfort and a safe place to express what she's feeling. I don't have a magic cure (as we all know but wish we had) to make it all better. Maybe, just maybe, I can make some small difference. Fingers crossed.

In Treatment

I watched a documentary over the weekend called "Boy Interrupted" on Saturday. It's about a boy who had Bipolar Disorder and took his own life at 15 years of age. It was a fascinating and moving tale. The child began talking about suicide when he was in Kindergarten. He was troubled for a long time, but if I remember correctly, he was stabilized somewhere around 9 years old. I'll get to my reaction at the end in a little while.

I also watched the move "The Soloist" this weekend. While this movie is about a homeless man who is schizophrenic, the scenes where he has episodes of hallucinations hit home very deeply. It reminded me of my own episode with hallucinations and delusions. It was a very realistic portrayal and I related to it on a very visceral level. It didn't mention how he came to be homeless or how it was that he was not receiving treatment, but there was the implication that he had at some point been hospitalized.

These films, combined with my thoughts about my friend that I discussed in my last blog post, got me thinking about treatment. Each of us has our own walk with mental illness, and approaches treatment in a different fashion. I am one of the lucky ones, who accepted her diagnosis immediately. For the most part I am 100% compliant with my treatment regimen. Where I falter and struggle is with my structure. It is a constant challenge to be disciplined in my daily life. Having 3 small children adds to the difficulty. That alone creates it's own brand of chaos. I am much better at creating and complying with structure when I get sick, because all I want is to be well. That is what makes taking my medication and seeing my doctors regularly very easy--the overwhelming desire to do what it takes to be well. It's not that I'm without sympathy for people who struggle with it, but as I have posted before, I do have a hard time understanding self-pity. Compliance is NOT surrender to one's illness. It's quite the opposite, in fact. It is the ultimate resistance. Your treatment plan is your weapon against Bipolar. To follow it to the letter is to launch a full scale war against it. Some battles you win, some you lose, but getting back up and getting right back in there is key. This leads me into my anger at the end of the documentary about the young man who killed himself...

The boy wanted to go off his medication when he was 15. From what I gleaned from the film, he was tired of the side effects of the medication, possibly tired of being different. He and his parents consulted his psychiatrist, who agreed to give it a try. During the weaning process, the boy went to his mother and told him she needed to "keep after him", so she immediately called the doctor and set up an appointment for the following week. Regretfully, the boy did not make it through until then. They interviewed the doctor on camera for the documentary, and he referred to BP as the "cancer" of the mental health community because it kills people. I don't necessarily disagree with that statement. He then went on to say "You can only keep [people with BP] alive for so long" and "they all go off their [meds]...". I was infuriated. The generalization notwithstanding, a medical professional certainly should not give permission to do so. There was no mention that he recommended or tried to convince this young man and his parents to try other medications with lesser or different side effects, or alternative treatments. No reference to a recommendation or counseling as to how very dangerous it could be to do so. It struck me as not only very irresponsible, but downright negligent of this man. How in the world he was not sued and/or reprimanded by the medical board boggles my mind. (Assuming he wasn't).

So, the question begs why is it that people do not accept their diagnosis and/or fail to comply with their treatment regimen? I'm sure that the foregoing is not very common (although I could be quite naive, too) but I do know it's very common for people to simply go off their medication and/or ignore their treatment regimen. It can be denial, it can be the desire not to be tied to a medication, it can be the love of mania, it can even be (regretfully) a financial issue and myriad other reasons.

Then, I started thinking about the big "S" word: STIGMA. Just how many people turn away from their diagnosis out of fear of being stigmatized? Have my opinions about stigma been wrong? For those who haven't been reading my blog all along, I am not one to get hung up on labels, for example. I'll be the first call myself crazy, looney, batshit and various other euphemisms. I've always taken the position that words only have the power we give to them, and desensitization eliminates any negative effect. I have pause to consider otherwise now. Have I inadvertently been contributing to that stigma? Have I been giving permission to others to perpetuate an improper posture toward the mentally ill? Worse yet, have I been so single minded that I've been selfish? While my ideas have worked for me, should I be approaching it differently? Should I be more straight forward and serious? It has begun to plague me. I think just by asking myself the question, I may already have the answer.

The inevitable question follows...What can I do to help? I never fancied myself as a social worker, advocate or activist. Yet, here I am thinking about these types of things. I may not be ready to be wholly involved in something right now, but as I'm taking my baby steps I think this might be a goal worth working toward. I have always lacked a passion for my work, and have never been able to think of anything I might be passionate about. I believe I may have just found one.