I’m so excited for BeePea’s first guest post on bipolar motherhood by my good friend, Kristen. I think we Beepeas have ways of finding each other, but the way we did was particularly, well… peculiar. She’s one of my heros and I’m so grateful that she’s a few years ahead of me on this whole BeePea motherhood thing. It’s women like her who remind me that I can do it and that I’m not the only one. 

Having a chemical imbalance lends itself to countless problems in dealing with the world and the people in it. For the most part as a person with bipolar, even in your healthiest of states, there have been many times when you have had to walk away from people in order to maintain either sanity or your freedom (because killing someone means prison time).

But add in a child – a crying, needy, helpless child.

My infant daughter was the first person I couldn’t walk away from. When she cried I had to go to her. When she needed food I had to feed her. When she pooped herself, I had to change her. I couldn’t escape this person who was sucking me dry of all energy and ability to deal with my emotions. I remember being in the hospital after giving birth, panicked at the rush of emotions and terrifying feelings I was experiencing. It is so common for new mothers to be overwhelmed, but bipolar mothers – well that’s a whole other ball of wax. I found myself shuffling down the halls of the hospital in my gown crying and praying because I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle what I had gotten myself into. It felt like a trap, like a prison – and I had built the walls myself.

Currently, I am the successful mother of a beautiful, healthy, intelligent 5-year-old daughter. It has taken me all 5 years to figure out the recipe for success and I am always reformulating this recipe. I am a constant work in progress. I have outlined some of the key aspects of my lifestyle. Some of these are new – all of these will change. Rigidity is a form of rigor mortis – to me it means death. To be healthy and alive is to remain flexible and willing to change. It means listening to your body when it’s telling you that you need something new or that something you’ve done successfully in the past isn’t working anymore. For now this is what works for me:

1. If I need time away I take it. Even a few minutes in another room gives me the time I need to gain perspective and clarity before making the rash, hasty decisions that have gotten me into so much trouble in the past. Sometimes when my daughter is being particularly whiny I will turn on the TV for her, go in my bedroom and lay on the bed. If she asks why I’m leaving for 10 minutes I am honest. I say that I am feeling overwhelmed and before I do or say anything I’ll regret I need some privacy to collect my thoughts.

2. I go to yoga at least 2 times per week. This is not negotiable. It is my refuge and I need a place to regain my balance every few days. There have been many times (2 days ago for instance) that my daughter has cried and asked me not to go. I have made it absolutely clear that if she wants a healthy, happy mommy, then there are things I must do to stay that way. I use the word “healthy” when describing my lifestyle because much of my bipolar recovery is centered on food and exercise, in conjunction with medication.

3. Exercise is prescribed to me by my psychiatrist – it is not a tool for weight loss – it is not something to do when I find the time. It is as important as my medication. I exercise every day; some days more intensely then others. I do many different kinds of workouts, from yoga, to hiking, to cardiobarre, to spin, to running on the treadmill at the Y. It is not an option – it is a necessity. I used to resent this, but now I feel lucky. I have a real, true excuse to exercise with or without my child every day. (Family Zumba at the Y on Saturdays!) I am a positive example to her and if it weren’t for my BP I doubt she would grow up with as active a parent as I currently am. When looking over our 2012 pictures I was proud of how many of the shots were outdoor, candid shots of us mid climb, run or jog.

4. I go to therapy once a week and discuss my parenting choices (among other things). I have received valuable strategies from my therapist about handling my moods and reactions to my daughter’s moods. I have learned to expect certain irrational behaviors from my 5 year old and to do what’s called Pushing the Polarity. It means that I give her permission to act a certain way and in turn this confuses her into acting appropriately.

For example, I told my therapist that my friend was throwing a kid’s birthday party at a bowling alley that didn’t have bumpers and I was scared of a potential meltdown on her part, which might have, in turn, sent me spinning into an angry mania.

She advised me to take my daughter aside before going and say:

“We are going bowling at an alley that doesn’t have bumpers. I know that this might be frustrating because the ball might go into the gutter a lot. If it does, and this makes you angry, you might want to scream, or cry, or even lay down on the floor and pound your fists. If you do that I’ll understand because it can feel horrible to see your ball go into the gutter over and over.”

For this particular incident she did not do any of the above-mentioned behaviors because she had received permission to do them and they seemed silly when spoken out loud beforehand. I count on my therapist to give me useful tips like this on a weekly basis.

5. I refuse to lay guilt trips on myself for not being perfect. BP’s are notoriously perfection based and we strive to be the best, even when it’s not realistic. I cannot be the best parent on the block every day of the week. Sometimes I am amazing and I pat myself on the back. Other times I let my daughter have a “cookie breakfast” because it’s all I can manage. I must be forgiving toward myself and give myself the same respect I’d give a stranger who is doing the best they can on a daily basis.

6. I keep my eye out for signs of BP in my daughter and am sensitive to her fluctuations in mood. BP is hereditary, and even if she doesn’t inherit it there’s a great chance that she’ll be an all around sensitive child. I’ve already experienced nights with my daughter where she’s cried her eyes out for no apparent reason while telling me she doesn’t know why she’s so sad. I connect to that feeling and I do my best to validate her in those times. One strategy I learned was to ask your child three questions, where the answer is yes, to help them feel heard. So I would say:
a.“It is scary to you to feel so sad and not know why, huh?”
b.“It’s frustrating to be so sad, isn’t it?”
c.“You really seem like something has upset you terribly, would you like me to sit with you until you feel a little better?

7. I am not ashamed, embarrassed, or afraid to ask for help when I need it. In my times of mania I have made dozens of trays of farmers market baby food while obsessing about my baby-centric Craigslist purchases. In my times of depression I have slept for days on end and cried into my pillow. In both of these cases I needed help and felt inferior for needing it. Now I have learned to be proud of the fact that having BP means that my daughter gets a dynamic, intelligent, creative, “special” kind of mother. As long as I am doing my best to stay healthy there should be no guilt involved with needing some extra help every once in a while.

Personally, my moods swing out of control when I am getting my period so I recently had my medication adjusted for those times of the month. Until that kicked in I told my husband that during my times of PMS I needed his help. I needed to eat a full bag of cookies in bed, uninterrupted by him or child, without him making me feel guilty for doing it. That’s what I needed. That’s what I did. And just yesterday I ran 2 miles on the treadmill to counteract the sugar and help boost my serotonin. I don’t give up – ever – but sometimes I let myself give in a little to the need to settle into the familiar and comfortable depression.

Being a BP parent is not a curse. It is a gift. We are the parents who get the job done! We are the parents who are admired for our energy and spirit. We run the households that other children want to hang out in. In order to be healthy we must always be mindful, evaluate our interactions with others, cut off relationships that are toxic, see our doctors regularly, and explore our motivations for certain behaviors through therapy. When you think about it, it’s really the type of life that everyone should lead – we just get a chemical nudge in the right direction.

Being a successful BP parent means simply putting yourself first and making your child a close second (some argue that your spouse should be second and your child should be third, but I know that my husband can wipe his own butt and make his own dinner, so I say he earns a comfy spot in third). It is contrary to what we hear most parents say – but I disagree with most other parent’s opinion on this matter.

When I had my daughter everyone told me “it’s not about you anymore – it’s all about her.” And I do understand the thought process behind that – however, being a BP parent means being a little more selfish in order to be a better parent. I take the necessary time to build myself up so that I can be there for her in every way possible. I am active in her school, I take her to many activities, I read to her at night (or my husband does), and our weekends are full of play dates and trips to every kid-friendly spot imaginable. I would be able to do none of this if I didn’t take care of myself first.

Kristen Williams is from Queens, New York. She is a teacher and holds a Master’s in Educational Administration. She is married and is the mommy of one absolutely gorgeous 5-year-old girl.