Our Crazy Marriage

Toben: Talking About It

Joanne's post got me thinking, not only about talking to the kids about what we've been through, but being able to talk to others about it. A lot of the phone calls and emails that I have gotten since this blog has gone up have commented that we are being so open and honest and how hard that must be.  But I have to tell you, for the most part it hasn't been that hard.  Yes, there are some posts that Joanne has written that really hit me,especially when she posted her journal entry, but as far as what I have been sharing, it doens't feel like that big a deal.

I guess that's for a few of reasons.  The first is that I really view my bi-polar as a medical issue.  My uncle early on instilled in me a belief that being bi-polar is no different from having heart disease or cancer or some other malady.  I wouldn't feel weird about telling someone if I had one of those other diseases so why should I feel weird about telling someone I am bi-polar?  It's not like it came about because I am a bad person but because my brain chemistry flipped out.  And the solution has been a medical one as well--every day I take handful of little pills that keep everything in my brain humming along.  Again, nothing to be embarrassed about there. 

The second is that I feel like God has allowed our family to go through this so that we can help others. I think one of the most amazing things about being a Christian is that I have a belief that God wants to redeem the worst stuff we go through.  It would feel like such a waste to have gone through all of this without being able to somehow use it for good.  This blog is a great example of this--we are telling our story and we are getting emails and comments from people who are being helped.  We have had people in our home who are struggling who seem to get a little hope and strength from our story.  Being able to help people changes my perspective on this awful experience.

The third is that going to counseling and AA meeting got me used to telling my story.  Especially AA.  I would sit in those meetings and listen to people pour out their hearts, and on occasion I would do the same.  Most of the folks in the room were strangers--I would see them around the meetings but didn't really know them.  So here I am spilling my guts, talking about really painful struggles to a group of people I didn't know.  But my sponsor made it very clear to me that it was my responsibility to share because my story could be the thing that offered hope and strength to someone else in that room.  This idea has been a powerful one in my life--offering hope and strength out of pain and weakness.

So, between the my uncle, God, and my sponsor I have a sense that being open and honest about all this is not only a good and healthy thing, but that it is my responsibility.

Now, that doens't mean I don't get embarrassed about some of my behaviors.  About a year and a half ago I relapsed for a couple of weeks with alcohol.  I got the idea in my head that I could drink like a normal person and out of curiosity more than anything else I tried it.  It didn't work.  I found that drinking a little led to me wanting to drink a lot.  So I told Joanne what I was doing and that broke the power of it and I haven't had a drink or really even been tempted to drink since then. 

And a few months ago I flipped out because of some triggers (mostly financial) and cut myself.  I have no idea why I did that other than I was having anxiety attacks and I thought that would help--it has in the past.  I mean it didn't help in terms of making anything better, but it helps in terms of being a massive distraction.  I can't cut and not have my head totally cleared for a while.  It is a rush.  Of course it is also a totally stupid and self distructive and now I have a few scars that I have had to explain when people see them.  That's embarrassing! It's not something that an adult man should be doing.  But you know what?  It's all part of the disease.

I am so fortunate because most of the effects of being bi-polar these days are minimal.  Yes, I have a very limited emotional range thanks to the mood stabilizers that I'm on.  Yes, I have gained a ton of weight.  Yes, I sleep almost as much every day as I am awake.  Yes, I still have anxiety attacks (although not remotely as intense as I used to have).  Yes, I still have a compulsive desire to spend money (although our new budget has almost put a stop to that).  Yes, I am a Diet Coke addict. 

But in the scheme of things, I'm so much better than I used to be. I think I am a good dad and I am crazy about my kids.  I think I am an okay husband and I can say that I love Joanne more today than I have in the past.  I can say that I am helping out around the house and more engaged in household stuff than I have ever been.  So I guess it all balances out and equals a very livable life.  Not sure, as a bi-polar recovering addict, I could ask for more than that.

Joanne: Talking to our kids about all this

When Toben was first diagnosed as being bipolar, Audrey and Emma were only five and three. So much of that time is a blur in my memory, but I don't remember them asking a lot of questions, or telling them a lot of what was going on.

They were just so little.

I spent most of my energy creating normalcy for them. Structure, routine, safety. The three of us went to Sea World, played at the beach, read books at bedtime, snuggled together watching movies, drove up the road to Disneyland.

Toben left for work at 6:30 in the morning and came home around 6:30 at night. The girls went to bed at 7:30, and were busy with baths and such during that hour. So lots of what I told them was that Daddy was at work.

On the weekends, Toben didn't go to church with us; when they asked why I simply told them that he didn't want to go. He would spend some time with us, but he wasn't really there. This is one of the few pictures I have from that time. Thanksgiving Day at Disneyland, right after we moved to San Diego. 

Things were bad at this point, but got much worse before they got any better. 

And when I look at it, I feel so sad. Because despite the smile, he just looks blank to me. His eyes are flat.

This is the one other picture of Toben I can find in about a year and a half period. He looks so sick and so sad.

It's really been as the girls have grown up some, as Toben's become sober and stable, that we've talked more and more with them about what we've all been through. At some point, I think I'll do a Q & A with them about what they remember, what scared them, what helped them. If you have a specific question for them, let me know.

Talking about Toben's mental illness and alcoholism is pretty natural these days. As Toben told you, he spoke in Audrey's class about it this week. And as I talked to her teacher the other night, she confirmed that as soon as it came up in class, Audrey was waving her hand in the air, wiggling in her seat, saying, "Ooh! Ooh! My dad's an alcoholic!"

I don't think the girls feel any shame about it. We've worked hard to make it normal. This is just something true about our family.

Toben: It Went Well! But Was Sad.

Just got back from my time with the fifth graders and it was great! I talked about the path from use to abuse to addiction.  We also spent a lot of time talking about the consequences of all these behaviors.  The kids seemed to really get it and the participated well.  They were especially attentive when I was telling the story of my own addiction.  I think it was so compelling to them because my story is so closely linked to the story of one of their own classmates. I think they were pretty blown away hearing an adult talk about being a bad parent because of alcohol--there aren't lots of times where kids get to hear an adult say they were wrong, or that they messed up. 

Two surprises: one was that I could see Audrey processing like mad as I was telling my story and she even asked a couple of questions.  They were leading questions because there was a part of the story that she wanted me to tell that I wasn't getting to. The most powerful part of our time was when I asked Audrey to share her feeling about this time in our families life.  She talked about me sleeping all the time and not hanging out with the family or eating with them.  Wow!  But she was also quick to say that things are so much better now.  Anyhow, it felt very special to get to experience this with her today.

Then the sad part: one girl shared a memory of her own dad that was heartbreaking.  Apparently he was drunk  at a friends house and she was with him.  He was getting ready to drive her home.  This little one pleaded with him not to drive, so he said they would just walk (she said it was about a mile).  But on the walk home he passed out on the side of the street and she couldn't wake him up.  She said eventually they got her home, but she wasn't clear how or when.  I can't imagine how awful that must have been for her.  We drunks are a sorry lot!  I feel fortunate that the extent of Audrey's memory about this time is one of my absence, and not of anything worse.  Thank the Lord for small mercies.

Toben: My Dad's an Alcoholic

Audrey, our 10 year old, is doing a unit on drugs and alcohol in her fifth grade class.  Last week she told me about it and asked if I wanted to come to class and talk about it.  She knows my story and for whatever reason, of her own accord, she thought it might be helpful for the fifth graders to hear it.  So I emailed her teacher and told her I'd be happy to come in, half expecting her to say, "Thanks, but no thanks."  But she took me up on it! So today I am headed in to tell my story, at a fifth grade level, and answer whatever questions these kids might have about addiction.

Funny story: Joanne's mom was picking Audrey up at school a couple of days ago and as she was waiting Audrey walked up with a friend and was telling her, "My dad is going to come talk to the class.  He's an alcoholic!"  When Joanne's mom told me, I got such a chuckle out of that!  It got me thinking about how cool it is that I am not ashamed of it, and that I can talk to people (and even little people)  about my mental health problems and addictions without much problem. I think that sort of honesty is surprising to a lot of people, but it doesn't seem like a big deal to me.

Now what I haven't told you is that I know many of the kids in Audrey's class pretty well.  I have volunteered in her class, taken the kids on field trips, participated in chapel, and I volunteer at the front desk every week.  So they know me.  It's not like I am going in cold--there is already some relationship there, which is a great thing.  Makes it easier. I am really interested to see how they respond.  I'll post again and let you know how it goes.