One of the last things I wanted to do was drop my daughter in the hospital at Christmas because she was in a mental health crisis. However, while the world is grappling with the challenges of a global pandemic, I am dealing with another real personal health crisis.
My daughter has just completed a 12-week intensive outpatient treatment program and I thought we were on our way to recovery. However, I was wrong.
Address your own mental illness
The first time I experienced a mental health challenge was when I was 29 years old, my mother was diagnosed with cancer. She was only 53 years old. I couldn't sleep and suffered from anxiety and depression. I went to see a counselor who helped me accept the reality of losing my mother and taught me how to deal with grief.
A few years later, my eldest daughter was born — a time that should have been wonderful, positive, life-changing. However, my postpartum phase wasn't happy and I was plagued by depression and anxiety.
I immediately recognized the symptoms, but this time the symptoms were more severe. I heard that after having children, I will feel very happy, but where is my happiness? My baby often has stomach pains and it hurts so badly that I can't sleep almost all night. I took good care of my daughter and even became obsessed. My whole self-worth as a new mom is built on my ability to accomplish what I consider important responsibilities and tasks as a qualified mother, and I struggle to cope with everything.
Every morning, I showered with the radio on to hide my sobs. Every night, I was so overwhelmed by anxiety that I would even vomit at the thought of having to face a crying baby again. I called my husband, who was out of work, and told him I was going to have a breakdown. I need him to come home. The pediatrician told me to take my child to the doctor every two weeks, ostensibly to check on the child, but actually to check my mental state. I just wanted to disappear then, and now I know it's one of the first stages of suicidal thoughts.
My doctor prescribed me antidepressants, but it wasn't until I realized that they were more than just "happy pills" and not signs of weakness that I started taking them. They are the medications that help me eliminate depression and face a new day again. Medication worked: I was able to better organize my thoughts and no longer dwell on the choice of breast milk or formula. I was able to convince myself to put down the shelf, slow down, and get back to normal. Six months later, my daughter's colic was also gone. I slept much better, and this painful chapter was over.
Realize that my daughter's illness is different
After experiencing waves of anxiety and depression, I thought I understood the severity of mental illness. I know what it's like not to want to get out of bed. I know the experience of living in the fog.
So, when my daughter starts to have the same symptoms, do I know what to do? Unfortunately, I don't know. But knowing what we don't know goes a long way toward respecting, loving, and supporting people who are struggling.
Recently, my 16-year-old daughter reminded me, "Just because we have the same thing doesn't mean it's the same thing, everyone's mental health performance is different." ”
My daughter's mental health problems began when she was in grammar school, and we used psychotherapy and appropriate medication. She felt lonely because she felt different from other children.
At the age of 12, she was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and anxiety disorder. A few years later, in July 2020, her depressive symptoms worsened and she began to self-harm. In September, she embarked on an intensive outpatient treatment program that lasted 12 weeks, 5 hours a day, 5 days a week. She graduated in mid-November. On Christmas Day, however, I asked her psychiatrist, "Can she go home at night and open the presents first?" I want her to be happy. I think she had a great Christmas.
"I don't think it's a good idea," her therapist replied.
So I followed the ambulance to the mental hospital and watched helplessly as they took her away. I also wanted to go in with her, but the paramedic stopped me and told me, "This is where you say goodbye." ”
I stood dumbfounded, feeling very helpless.
Learn to communicate and accept reality
I'm not perfect. Now that my daughter is back at home, sometimes she can't get out of bed, and the little things can overwhelm her. Even though I've had the same experience, I'm still angry and frustrated, and it makes her feel even more isolated.
We will continue to communicate around her needs.
"Sometimes I don't know what I need," she said. "I don't know what to ask for."
I don't know. This disease is also often a mystery to me. So, I also need to continue to understand it.
For a while, we seemed to get along very well — we could communicate effectively, spend time together, laugh together — but her therapist told me that my daughter's suicidal tendencies were increasing and that intensive outpatient treatment was needed immediately.
In my experience, how could I not know? Maybe I want her too much to "get better", so I always cling to things that seem to be making progress.
It's a lifelong journey and we'll go down it together. In the process of helping my daughter, my understanding and ability have also improved, and I have also exercised my empathy and patience, no longer seeing her mental illness as my fault.
Do our part to fight together
My daughter and I would talk openly about our personal experiences because we wanted people to know that they weren't alone and we wanted to encourage people to better understand issues related to mental health. In our experience, education, empathy and support are essential for this disease, which has the same unique manifestations as DNA.
I would also like to have a generic treatment, but no one can fully understand the specifics of another person's disease. So, I became my daughter's advocate, her mouthpiece, her support, her friend, her ally – until she became fully herself, beautiful and vulnerable self.
Every story is different, but we don't have to talk alone or experience struggles and triumphs against mental illness.
Denise Mueller is a senior executive in the field of biotechnology. She is the mother of three beautiful daughters. Dennis's mental health journey began as an adult when her mother fell ill. Today, it's a journey she and her daughter have gone through together. Together, they will continue to support each other's growth, learning and healing.
The best appreciation is to "watch" and share, so that life is more warm