More On Vets

Call the national suicide hotline (1-800-784-2433) and the first question asked is "Are you a member of the armed forces?" Shocking? Hardly....

More here.

Veteran's Day

As Veteran's Day approaches I become pensive. I have friends who strive to take their husbands on mini vacations this weekend... anything to keep them away from home and all the patriotic crap on TV. For many men this is a hard day to look in the eye. Bad memories. Worse dreams. We may put this day aside to honor the dead, but it often only opens the wounds of the living.

Consider:

• Almost 1 in 3 veterans returning from Afghanistan and Iraq confront mental health problems.
• In 2006, the suicide rate in the Army reached its highest level in 26 years.
• Approximately 30% of veterans treated in the Veterans health system suffer from depressive symptoms, two to three times the rate of the general population.
• More Vietnam veterans have now died from suicide than were killed directly during the war in the 1960s and 70s.
• Approximately 40% of homeless veterans have mental illnesses. Approximately 57% of this group are African American or Hispanic veterans.

Perhaps along with honoring those slain in war, we should consider taking better care of those who survive it. If you know a veteran who is suffering, please visit the NAMI Veteran's Resource Center for up to date information, online discussion groups and links to agencies and organizations that can help. Or make a donation and add your vet's name to the NAMI Veteran's Tribute Honor Roll. It's time we supported our troops in a way that leads to healing and a return to a full and productive life.

chaos (again)

I can't believe that it's been nearly a month since I've posted, but on the other hand, time tends to morph interestingly when in the midst of chaos. As is incredibly par for the course of life with a bi-polar loved one - things took a turn last month. Here I am, teaching a Family to Family course for people in my very situation. Didn't expect to be Exhibit A in the course, but I suppose everything happens for a reason.

My son has gotten very, very good at hiding his disease. Sometimes I think he even fools himself. But with 20-20 hindsight, it all stands out in stark relief. In the back of my mind I think I knew that something was brewing... but I always hope that I'm just being overprotective or paranoid. To make a long story short - the stressful job that he had been doing so well at (!) took it's toll and he quit impulsively. Then - in a perfectly natural (if unfortunate) fit of terror, he lied to his wife about it and told her he was fired. When she found out she naturally booted him out (for lying) and he ended up on my couch.

The stresses of everyday living that even I take so for granted, are often far too much for someone with a mood disorder to deal with. He put on a brave, if utterly false, face - afraid to disappoint his beloved, wanting her to be proud of what he could do and letting himself wear thinner and thinner until he felt there would be nothing left if he stayed. Quitting was a maladjusted protection... giving him short term relief and causing long term consequences. Their finances are tentative and now he is unemployed and fragile. Had he come clean with the pain he was in earlier, maybe this could have been avoided. Now we all face damage control.

We all struggle to keep mental illness from being the center of our lives. Often it usurps center stage despite all our efforts. Recovery is a long and arduous road. I watch my son in his pain and I mourn again. I watch his love in hers. I watch them struggle to find answers, to find comfort. She found a blog of a married couple living with this honesty issue and read about their attempts to build a working relationship. They have a 48 hour 'safe zone' - if he comes clean to her after an initial reflexive lie within 48 hours she is only allowed to thank him for his courage. No repercussions. This is something to try.

The poet Roethke, who suffered from mental illness gives words to the concept of recovery in his poem Cuttings
"...one nub of growth
Nudges a sand-crumb loose,
Pokes through a musty sheath
Its pale tendrilous horn.
Cuttings (later)
This urge, wrestle, resurrection of dry sticks,
Cut stems struggling to put down feet,
What saint strained so much,
Rose on such lopped limbs to a new life?

What saint indeed.