Not Guilty

Note: I wrote this post ten days ago while I was sorting my thoughts and feelings. At the time, everything felt too close to share. Time has reduced the vulnerability (slightly) and I keep thinking that these are good things to share, so I'm sharing:

Mental illness comes in all shapes, strengths, ages, and sizes. Some people, like a sweet longtime friend of mine, have incredibly severe, often debilitating mental illnesses to cope with. Others, like my husband, have a relatively mild case that is much more intermittent and comparatively easily managed (for the most part). Still others fall in between the two extremes on the spectrum, like another good friend, who battles anxiety with a touch of depression in the mix, while her husband faces a more intense case of depression. Another loved one has depression that slams into him unexpectedly one day, then lifts a few days later just as suddenly. Then there are people like me, who don't have a mental illness of their own, but who love people with mental illnesses.


Friends don't let friends go through mental illness alone. It should be a t-shirt. Or at least a motivational poster hung in schools. I am so thankful for my friends who have shared their journeys through mental illness with me because they help me see PEOPLE rather than invisible problems. They help me have more compassion by reminding me that the whole story is not usually visible on the surface.

Mental illness is buried in the murky waters of stigma. It seems to be slowly rising to the surface, one ripple at a time teaching, shifting, and changing one opinion at a time. People with mental illness are starting to talk about it. There is still a long long long way to go, but in many circles, the stigma is shifting. It is exciting that people who have such intense invisible struggles are more able to acknowledge that they can't "just get over it" with wishful thinking or even more determined thinking. More importantly, understanding that not being able to "snap out of it" without help is ok. Good things are happening in the mental health world.

However, two facts remain:

1. Removing the stigma around mental illness does not remove the difficulty of living with mental illness.
2. Removing the stigma around mental illness does not remove the difficulty of living with a person who has a mental illness.

Although the mental illness stigma is beginning to dispel, those of us who love people with mental illnesses are still very much hidden. It is not our place to share someone else's story, especially such a personal story as a loved one's mental health journey. Maybe it's due to the prevalence of the stigma, maybe it's just common courtesy, but as the friend/spouse/relative of a person who has mental illness, it is simply not my place to share my loved ones' struggles. And without feeling able to share their struggles, it is hard for me to share my own struggles as I navigate the confusing waters of having a loved one with mental illness. It is hard and lonely!

My wonderful husband always tells me that I can share about his condition. Calling it a condition makes it sound so...serious? It is a condition and it is real, but he's lucky in that it doesn't affect him every day. Yes we do always have to have it at the backs of our minds so we can do our best to manage it when it shows up again, but thankfully it's not usually an everyday battle. Somehow sharing this still feels very vulnerable, even though it's not even my condition I'm talking about!

Loving and living with someone who has even a mild mental illness strips me to my core and tests my compassion, patience, and my heart thoroughly. I have learned so much about myself--good and bad--as Jeff and I have journeyed with his condition. Sharing about such personal, vulnerable feelings is scary! Even though it is not my story to tell, Shaina living with Jeff is our story to tell, so it is wonderful of him to be alright with me writing about how we handle his condition together. Marriage is a team effort, and I definitely don't think that every single detail needs to be shared with others, but in many cases, sharing is soothing. Sharing helps me feel connected and capable. Writing down my struggles helps me SEE through it all to the hidden treasures and lessons underneath. And yet I have never baldly stated "what Jeff has."

Bottom line: Jeff is awesome. He has battled with depression and taken medicine for it in the past but it has been "in remission" via life-balance management for years now (aka no long-term drugs!). He gets migraines that are clearly related to his mental health but we do not really know exactly how. Jeff also has an odd type of agoraphobic anxiety wherein his fight or flight response is triggered by various situations, especially loud large chaotic rooms full of people. He describes the feeling as fear plus stress, and it has wiped him OUT many times in the past. (hello, school-wide parent teacher conferences held in the cafeteria!) Last year he finally saw our good doctor and got some take-as-needed low dosage medicine that calms his fight-or-flight response very effectively. What a miracle that a simple pill can help solve such a confusing issue! From what I can tell, the medicine doesn't completely take away the entire problem, but it allows Jeff to function through it. He takes that medicine any time potential triggers are on the horizon, such as before parent teacher conferences (he makes sure to get a table on the far edge of the crowded room, down the quieter hallway to minimize potential stress). We are learning that medicine plus active management is key.

Crowded rooms are not the only trigger to Jeff's anxiety, though. We are still learning other potential culprits. Sometimes we can't figure out what caused it. Last week's repeat lesson: sleep deprivation can exacerbate any condition. On Saturday night (March 16th), Jeff and I stayed up later than usual because we had a busy week and didn't see enough of each other. (hello, track season!) So we stayed up late because we like each other, even though Jeff had not slept well since the daylight savings time change. The next day was stake conference, which meant a 50 minute drive to attend a 2 hour church meeting at the stake center instead of regular in-town church.

Half an hour into our drive to stake conference, as I was chatting about the pros and cons of putting Amber in preschool in the fall, Jeff started feeling symptoms of his anxiety. Thankfully he has come a long way since this whole business started, and now he usually manages to communicate how he's feeling to me before sliding too far under and/or snapping at me. Thankfully I have come a long way in "helping" him deal with his anxiety, so I was able to lay out our possible options to make it easier for Jeff to decide which plan of action he needed most. I also managed to completely let go of my determination/obligation to go to church and made sure Jeff knew I was ok with going home if he felt that was the best solution (in spite of my newfound coping abilities, I can still tend to try and get him to push through rather than back off from an event, and that does not help).

After considering our options, Jeff decided that it would be best to turn back and go home. We didn't have any of his medicine with us, and we were driving straight toward a massive gym crammed with hundreds of people. If we had pressed on and attended stake conference anyways, we were guaranteed hours of difficult recovery for Jeff. We pulled over, switched seats so I could drive, and turned around. Jeff leaned back and closed his eyes to minimize stimulus and cope till we got home to his medicine and the dark quiet basement. He did say that it wasn't the crowded stake conference meeting that brought this on--he thought it was mostly from sleep deprivation.

All the way home, I was battling demons of my own:

• Was it something I said?
• Was it something I did?
• Was it something I didn't say?
• Was it something I didn't do?
• Was it my fault that his anxiety came today?

Over and over, I stopped myself from asking Jeff all of those questions. That type of question does not help Jeff get through anxiety and I have learned that it can get worse if I press him. But when something goes wrong, I immediately start analyzing the situation to try and figure out how to "do better" next time the situation arises. That does not help in this type of situation though because I did not cause the situation. After I had cycled these thoughts through the guilt wheel a few times, I zoomed out a little and returned to that previous thought: I did not cause this situation.

It is not my fault.

My husband's mental illness is not my fault. I am not guilty.

Not guilty.

I don't know if guilt is a common feeling in relationships where mental illness is involved. But I do know that my highly sensitive heart feels guilty when my husband battles anxiety. It feels like there is something I should have done or not done, said or not said. Maybe that's because my own personal brand of anxiety can be soothed by words and actions. Maybe that's the stigma of mental illness sneaking in and telling me that there should be something he or I can do to stop it. Maybe it's just my love for my husband driving my need to fix his problem. I don't know. I spent the rest of the drive home listening to Mozart violin concertos and reminding myself that I am not guilty. 

Guess what? IT HELPED. I felt so free. The knowledge that I am not responsible for my husband's condition was liberating and helped me treat him with more compassion and love than if I was operating under the burden of guilt. WOW, what a lesson. Some things that happen are my fault. But lots of things just happen and I don't need to carry the burden of guilt while I cope with the fallout or care for the injured party! I can love and care for the person without taking on the pain and personal responsibility for the problem.

We drove home and stayed home for the rest of Sunday. Jeff took his medicine and was feeling much better within one short hour. It took him a few days to completely shake the anxiety cycle, but I know from experience that it could have been worse! I felt grateful and reinforced in our decision to come straight home rather than continuing on to church because even though Jeff took the entire week to get all the way through it, this was the fastest recovery he has ever had. Ten days later, Jeff's anxiety is not completely gone and we have to be mindful and vigilant to keep it in check. Jeff spent the second hour of church recovering in the car this Sunday (March 24th) because he was paying attention to his symptoms and caught it early. It helped. Both the issue and the recovery are always far worse if we try to push through it rather than slowing down to treat it. That truth applies to more than just mental health!

I feel very thankful for the simple lesson that it is not my fault when my loved ones get sick.

I am not guilty!!

We had a lot of time at home the Sunday we missed stake conference. I spent most of that time writing my raw heart out in these words, but then the sun was shining so happily that I herded the children into a walk along the canal. Vitamin D is immensely soothing. 

Sunday, March 17th: the canal was still frozen and full of snow drifts, even though it was a sunny 50 degree day.

Rose had a cut on the back of her heel rubbing on her shoe which she complained about so much, I told her that she had to decide which was less painful: wearing her shoes or walking on the gravel barefoot. And Jay, with another victory dab at our traditional turnaround point on the canal road.

Jay and Amber had an epic game of chase and attack on the way home. 

 Jay was bursting with awesome nerdy humor.

 Rose was subdued and walking so...slowly...barefoot. We kept stopping and waiting for her, but she always fell behind again right when we started walking again.

Jay can finally string his own bow, even if it is just a Faux-Bow-Pro. He couldn't do it last year, and now he can. He felt very muscly and manly. 

Also on Sunday March 17th: Rose got out the Citi Blocks and built an intricate tower.