There are moments in life that you never forget. There are joyous times like graduation day, a birth, or a wedding. There are difficult times like losing a job or a close friend. Some of these moments pass into our history quietly and we revisit them in memory from time to time. But a few become defining moments. They take you by surprise and shift your course into uncharted waters. They change your reality and mold your future. I would like to share with you one such moment in my life.

The autumn leaves had withered and fallen. We were about to say goodbye to 1999. It had been a busy year with some joyous moments including the birth of our third child. But there were other moments that gave us cause to worry, primarily about our oldest son. At six years of age he had started verbalizing the feelings that we now understand to be part of his bipolar disorder. We were not yet prepared to deal with this reality. 

When my son would say “I want the neighbor’s dog to bite me”, I would respond with, “No you don’t!  Think how badly that would hurt you.” When he described an especially graphic dream I would tell him not to say such things. When he expressed happiness at the thought of no longer being alive, my heart sank, but I refused to believe that he could really feel that way. That all changed in one “defining moment”.

My son came to me requesting a private conversation. He described his inner turmoil in eloquent and honest terms beyond his years. The feeling he described was one of discomfort in his own skin. So I would be sure to get the point he even used an illustration saying that it felt as if he were wearing his shirt backwards and constantly being bothered by the feeling of the tag in the wrong place rubbing, constant and irritating. He assured me that even when something gave him reason to be happy, the inward discomfort and sadness was always there and had been for as long as he could remember.

That conversation confirmed what I didn’t want to believe; his heredity was stronger than what I could combat with all my love. It was a moment of reality and a defining moment because I allowed myself to truly listen to and believe my son. It thrust our family into a new world. This new world was filled with doctor visits, medication trials, education and online support. 

It’s hard to believe that 11 years have gone by since the conversation that became a defining moment for our family. At times the waters become still and peaceful. We savor these moments knowing that a growth spurt or seasonal change can replace the calm with a thundering storm. We refuse to give up or give in to this illness. We have hope for a bright future. It is that hope that keeps us going in the dark hours.