"Cowardly, Selfish"

[chervilant]

72. This is the letter I wrote to my bipolar niece (name changed for obvious reasons):

Dearest Susie:

I love you very much. You are my most precious niecie.

I fear you’ve lost sight of that fact. I wonder if you see me as “just like your mother,” or as “the Bad Auntie,” because you seem to interpret all or almost all of my utterances as negatives or “attacks.”

I recognize that a depressed person’s mind can be a never-ending loop of painful, destructive thoughts. I recognize that you want recovery, and that your recovery is a deeply personal experience. I do know that depression is the filter through which you interpret everything, and that negatives are a constant in your experience of your environment, AND those of us with whom you interact.

I confess that I don’t have the skill set necessary to effectively communicate with you. So, I’ve asked a friend of mine if I can quote her most recent blog regarding her challenges, which are so very similar to yours.

So, here goes:

“You have a chronic brain disease. You are mentally ill.”

“You are not a criminal; you are not crippled; you are not thoughtless, you are not dangerous.”

“Chronic brain disorders affect nearly one in three people, at some point in our lives, at some degree of acuity. Some of us experience one temporarily; some of us live with one (or more) for life.”

“Mental illness is not equivalent to stupidity. It is not equivalent to moral turpitude. It is not equivalent to inferiority.”

“If you look at the roster of humanity’s greatest artists, inventors, humanitarians, and idealists, you will find a very high percentage of them with chronic brain disorders.”

Susie, I am concerned that you seem to interpret your mental illness as a definition of who you are—or that you think others do. I am concerned that you are assigning negatives to your disease—and to your presenting issues. I think that avoiding ANY discussion of your disease will keep you mired in the worst of your presenting issues, and render your chances of recovery slim.

Susie, I feel it’s important to mention three of your chronic presenting issues—all of which I’ve been witnessing for the last three months.

First, your dog: he needs and deserves targeted attention. When you interact with him, you sometimes act as though his needs are burdensome, especially when he needs to go out in the early morning. He is smart enough to get that. I am concerned that you seem not to think about his tiny bladder, and how uncomfortable he must feel when he has to wait to go outside.

Second, your attention to your personal hygiene isn’t as effective as it once was. (I had this presenting issue when I was depressed, and I wish someone had told me—I found out by accident…)

Third, your precarious financial reality seems insignificant to you, as you tend to spend borrowed money as though it’s your own hard-earned cash. I am concerned that your dependence on your parents’ money will continue to mire you in debt, and delay your autonomy and independence.

Susie, with any other disease, we don’t stigmatize sufferers. We don’t tell a cancer patient to suck it up and ‘think positive thoughts.’ But, our species certainly does stigmatize those of us who suffer from mental illnesses, and I don’t see that changing any time soon. I mention this, because you seem to view your disease so negatively that you find it easier to deny or minimize your illness, rather than exploring essential steps towards recovery.

I found another resource I want to share with you, written by a young woman who has struggled with depression since she was a child. It’s titled “Ways to Show Love to Someone with Depression.” There are ten ways listed:

1) Help them keep clutter at bay.
2) Fix them a healthy meal.
3) Get them outside.
4) Ask them to help you understand what they’re feeling.
5) Encourage them to focus on self-care.
6) Hug them.
7) Laugh with them.
8) Reassure them that you can handle their feelings.
9) Challenge their destructive thoughts.
10) Remind them why you love them.

I love you because you are YOU, Susie. There is not another human being on this planet with your unique personality, intellect, creativity and sense of humor. I will always love you, precious niecie.

And, with this letter, I hope to encourage you to accept your disease as a manageable fact of your life, and to recognize that you can take steps to pursue recovery, no matter how scary or daunting those steps may appear.

Love always,

Auntie

Because I've done advocacy for survivors of relationship violence for more than thirty years, my niece asked to stay with me for a while to 'pursue recovery.' That's not what happened, ultimately, but -- after she asked for feedback -- I wrote this letter. I don't think she has ever read it, because her mother interceded and 'rescued' her. The positive of this outcome is a strengthening of her relationship with her formerly estranged mother.

Meanwhile, I have noted to trusted friends that our species has not developed strategies for discussing depression and bipolar disorders AND we don't offer love and support to those who suffer. Instead, we act as though they are "dis-eased" and coddle or exclude them. As is obvious from some of the responses to Williams' suicide, many will offer "advice" or assert that the depressed individual should "suck it up!" and "get over it!" Sadly, we don't teach active listening and reflecting back feelings. either.

I believe that depression is the epidemic du jour. I think many, many of us are stressed, depressed, and hanging on by a thread. We live in exponential times, and our bodies are still in linear mode. I hope that my friends are right that "this, too, shall pass."

Thanks for listening. This is the most profound OP I've seen on DU in a long time. I hope that TygrBright will let us send this OP to family and friends.