The First Hour of a Bipolar Day
The First Hour of the Day With a Child Who Has Bipolar Disorder
When the alarm goes off, it seems as though I have already been thinking all night in my sleep about the five phone calls I will have to make in the morning… 1) to the psychiatrist to make an overdue appointment, 2) to the pharmacy to renew several prescriptions, 3) to the teacher to explain why the girl’s homework isn’t completed, 4) to the sitter to arrange for her to come over while I attend an IEP meeting the following week, and 5) to the lab to ensure that the doctor’s order for the monthly blood test has been received.
I reach over to turn off the intrusive sound and I stretch a bit to wake up. I hear the patter of twelve-year-old feet entering my bedroom. She asks for the third consecutive morning if I can drive her to school so she can get another thirty minutes of sleep. She whines about her headache and tummy ache. I tell her I have a full schedule and do not have time to drive her to school today.
She stomps out of my bedroom. I remind her to take her medications, which were placed in a little dish on the counter the previous night. I know that if she doesn’t take them soon she will begin talking nonstop in a high, squeaky voice and I’m not in the mood for it this morning. She ignores my request and goes straight through the kitchen and down the hall to her bedroom. As I slip into my robe, I shoot up a quick prayer for the endurance and patience I will need for the day.
The coffee pot spurts out the dark roast and the heavenly smell fills the air. I long for just a few minutes to wrap both hands around a 14-ounce mug of hot brew while I take a moment to watch the sun rise and collect my thoughts. But, not until the front door slams shut and she is on her way. Right now, there is a lunch to pack, laundry to start, a breakfast to make, and the usual missing items of clothing and homework to locate. These items will usually be found shoved under beds and stuffed into drawers alongside random papers, fingernail polish, pencils, underwear, paper clips, gum wrappers, and who knows what else.
I peek down the hall to see if there is any movement in the girl’s bedroom. She is wrapped in two blankets looking up at the ceiling. She complains loudly that it’s cold in the house and demands that I light the fireplace. I glare at the nine pills in the bowl and think how I would hate to swallow them twice every day for a lifetime. However, I am fully aware that if the girl doesn’t take them it will cause serious consequences that none of us want to face.
Panic sets in as I realize she now has 25 minutes to get dressed, eat breakfast, and get to the bus stop. Trying to pry her from hibernation, I ask in a loud voice what the girl wants for breakfast. She slinks into the kitchen, dragging the two blankets behind her and plunks herself down at the counter. I place a bottle of water down and point to the medications, but she ignores my gesture and tells me she wants toast with peanut butter and a glass of milk.
She asks for the millionth time why, unlike her friends, she has to live with bipolar disorder and ADHD. I don’t have an answer, so I just keep smearing peanut butter. I can’t blame her for asking – often, I too ask the same question. She is now talking incessantly about things that occurred the previous day at school as she jams the breakfast into her mouth. She gets up abruptly and rushes off to get dressed. (The medications are still in the bowl.) I want to scream, but instead I throw the first load of laundry into the washer and decide I’d better get dressed, just in case she misses the bus.
Five minutes later, she is in the kitchen frantically brushing her hair, gathering the scattered homework, and recovering her MP3 player from under the table. I look at the medications again and yell, “TAKE YOUR MEDS!” She gulps them down with one swallow of water, grabs her backpack and jacket from the floor of the front hall and storms outside leaving the front door wide open to the cold autumn temperature.
There on the kitchen table is the permission slip for an upcoming field trip which needs to be returned today. I quickly snatch it up and race to the door waving it in the air and motioning for her to come back and retrieve it. She runs back up the driveway, grabs the slip, nearly ripping it in two, and runs right past me to her room to find her mittens. I glance at the microwave clock and calculate that if the bus is just one minute late today, the girl will still be able to catch it and I won’t have to drive her to school again. I shut the door, lean against the wall, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. If I wait three minutes and she hasn’t come back crying and screaming, it means I can have my cup of coffee before making the phone calls. Three minutes elapse without her appearance and I gaze upward in thanksgiving. That is the first hour of my day living with bipolar in my house.
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Dottie
Dottie,
I'm not sure what you were trying to post here. Can you try it again? Or give me a back-channel post if you need help posting.
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Brenda,51, TBMF Parent to Parent Volunteer
Mom to A, 17, BP, Tourette's, OCD, ADHD: Eskalith CR, Lamictal, Cytomel, Allegra
E, 15 1/2, BP,AS: Seroquel, Eskalith CR, inositol, Buspar
B, 14 & H, 11
Married 18 years to DH, 50
FROM TBMF: Do not start, stop, or change medications or other treatments for yourself or your child based on what you read on this Website or elsewhere on the Internet. Information presented here should not replace the considered judgement of a doctor who knows you or your child.
Brenda,
Thank you for encouraging me to repost my article on the first Hour of the day living with bipolar in my house. My web browser was having trouble with this website, but the issue has been resolved and reposting worked.
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Dottie
What a familiar scene! Thank you for your post. You captured the "take your meds" dance perfectly!
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Jennie (37) depression treated effectively with lexapro
Husband (58)
daughter Alison (14)
Bipolar I with episodes of psychosis; Oppositional Defiant Disorder
lithium, depakote, zyprexa, zoloft
Yes, sounds very familiar. In some way I long for this to be our case right now as our 10 year old son is hospitalized as the doctor tries to figure out what med combination will take care of his mania. We are ashamed that our lives for the past week have had a small "break" from the chaos and we can see the good come out from our 7 year old (no problems) because we are not all on constant alert and flight/fight mode.
Our son has been in the hospital (not because he is danger to self or others) because he could not participate in the partial program and all the experts recommended that this was the right course of action. We hope and prey that they are all right and that we will dial in the right combination of meds and behavioral therapy so that he can return home, to school and to a happier life.
We learn, one day at a time, to make the best out of a difficult situation ... and constantly remind ourselves "It's not cancer, they are not on their death beds, they have two arms and two legs, they are funny, smart, loving" the list goes one.
Fireman_MCK
Very nicely written. I know what you mean about the squeaky voice. My younger dd missed months of school each year, adding up all the days missed. I didn't have much trouble with her morning meds because we had them on her plate or bowl at her place at the table in the mornings, but her afternoon meds were a whole nother story. I couldn't raise my voice or sound stern because that usually resulted in a complete meltdown. We taught her dog to give her the meds!
Thank you for sharing this with us.
--Jeanie aka "Naomi"
It's Not Mental-The Book
Older dd: formerly(?) teen-onset bipolar (morphed into ultradian cycling): "Recovered" after over 13 years - stable off psych meds almost two years. Now fine on just diet changes and higher thyroid levels (after healing - addressing gut issues/Candidal overgrowth while using EMPowerPlus and other supplements). She added a little EMpowerPlus back on as a multivitamin simply because she feels better on it - gets sick less often.
Younger dd: formerly(?) Childhood-onset schizoaffective, TS, OCD, anxiety, PTSD, migraines. After over 15 years, is now "recovered" for almost 5 years after treating endocrine issues, food sensitivities, gut issues, sleep issues, nutritional/mitochondrial needs.
This was an awesome description! I have nearly the same scenario with my 15 year old son. The bus usually comes at 6:45 and I am up, dressed and ready by 5:30 every day prepared for any and all potential events.My son stands firmly convinced that the bus comes at 6:45 exactly. A minute before--a minute later is not tolerated. So he will actually time his morning around leaving the house no earlier than 6:44. But sometimes it comes earlier and sometimes later. Either way, I too am glaring at the kitchen microwave clock at 6:43 AM knowing that he's only eaten a bite of bagel, not taken his meds and has yet to brush his teeth. Calling for him to tell him that the other kids have headed up the street brings anger and the possibility of an explosive episode. Every word I say, every tone I use, every phrase I state is rehearsed over in my mind to anticipate all potential reactions.
I have gotten to the point where I wish he didn't have teeth because he will not leave without brushing them and usually he heads out of his room to the front door with sweatshirt and backpack--and I think, "YES!--it's 6:43. We are Good!" and he drops everything and vanishes into the bathroom where he performs the world's longest toothbrushing routine!
I've been at the point where I have wanted to manipulate all the clocks in the house to trick him to go earlier but then there is his cell phone and the cable boxes and I know I am losing it when I actually get pissed off at these two industries for mandatorily setting the time on their devices!
And as soon as he slams the door, I do a sweep of the house--searching for the forgotten book, permission slip, homework assignment, etc. and the response to this gesture is as you described.
But I know, if I don't give it too him now, all hell could break loose later.
Thanks again for your post. Makes it a little more tolerable knowing others have been there!
Dottie,
How wonderful it was to read another mom's account of her mornings. I smiled as I read yours...
I drive my daughter to school every morning to avoid the bus thing, because there is NO WAY she would make it to the bus stop on time! She is not even out of bed by the time the bus has left! Her alarm is set for 6:30. If she is up by 6:45 we have a good chance of leaving on time. When she gets up at 7, she is already running late. Even though she knows she really doesn't have time, she will take a shower, blow-dry and then straighten her hair...Most mornings I act as a timer, "15 minutes til we have to leave!" "10 minutes!" "5 minutes til we need to be in the car!!" "We gotta leave NOW!!"
As we walk out the door, she is yelling at me for not doing something (that she should have done, but she is convinced it is my fault,) and on the days I cannot keep my mouth shut, we argue all the way to school. She often eats her breakfast in the car and applies her makeup. As of the second month of school, she usually is slamming the door shut and bolting for the school doors 2 minutes before class is slated to begin. It is a horrible horrible way to begin the day and I wish school began at noon....
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HeatherJ