Parenting Thoughts

Do you ever have days when your world looks dim and gray?  Of course.  I was having a day like that, particularly in regards to my parenting skills.  Could I have possibly done everything wrong?  Have I been too lenient with my children?  In an effort to respect children and try to communicate with them, rather than to be an authoritarian, have I failed to teach them basic decency, respect and good manners?  I recognize, even as I write, that to say I have "failed" them (past tense) is to say that I am done parenting them.  Hardly.  They are 7 and 4 3/4!   Thankfully they don't just have me to parent them.  Brian is a fantastic dad.  Even so, parenting is so much more complicated than I dreamed.

A few weeks ago I found myself browsing friends' blogs, linking to other people's blogs, and eventually reading from lives of people whom I don't even know.  I read some of the NieNie Dialogues and from there linked to her friend who had recently lost her 18-month-old daughter to the effects of a drowning accident.  I sat in front of the computer screen feeling somber.  I felt guilty for not appreciating all that is mine.  How could I not see that my situation in life is easy?  Relatively easy.

I have bi-polar disorder.  On the one hand, I know what it is like to view the world as a dark and unbelievably painful place.  The sense of hopelessness, the guilt and emptiness associated with depression is overwhelming.  As a parent, negative ideas regularly creep into my thoughts.  My brain is proficient at changing negative thoughts to depressed thoughts, without my realizing it.  It's deceiving because some negativity and pessimism is "normal."  And, on the flip side, some manic joy is "normal" too.  I know what it is like to live above the clouds and to feel invincible.  Unfortunately, I also know what it is like to not be able to differentiate reality from delusion. 

As the term bi-polar implies, I often see the world in extremes.  For example, as a parent I see many issues as black and white.  If I read a parenting book that proclaims that rewards and punishments do not show long term effectiveness, I find myself fixated on this particular philosophy.  Intellectually I understand that one parenting book isn't going to have all of the answers.  I also understand that I don't have to give up all of my previous notions about parenting when I learn something new.  In other words, living in the gray is okay (in most areas).  In spite of this, I find myself focusing on either one extreme or the other.  I am also hyper-sensitive to the fact that my children are, or will become, emotionally disturbed.  This may seem humorous because don't we all do this?  Probably.  But, I have a legitimate concern.  My mental illness has the potential to bring suffering to my kids.  When I make a mistake parenting, I am often consumed by that mistake and feel that I have ruined my children.  When I am overwhelmed (a common side-effect of parenting) I am more irritable and lack patience.  I have noticed cycles of "depressed parenting" in my seven years as a mom, and I mourn for the time I have lost enjoying my own children's development.  

Even though I have not been clinically depressed for many years, I have a tendency towards viewing life in a depressed way.  Thankfully, over those years, I have figured out how to manage my more serious symptoms.  The last time I was hospitalized was in 1997.  It is quite remarkable that I have stayed out of the hospital for 13 years.  When I experience success I am not as kind to myself as I'd like to be.  I am proud that I have managed my mental illness well.  I am blessed with a mother who has literally taken each step with me as I have navigated my mental illness.  I have a good support network of friends.  I have a helpful, loving and cheerful husband.  I am thankful to have given birth to two healthy and beautiful children.  I am committed to allow experienced doctors to help me and to stick to my medication regimen.  I am vigilant about preventing myself from becoming a non-functioning person who is paralyzed by despair or immobilized by fear.  And yet I struggle.  We all do.  I humbly recognize that there are no guarantees for my continued good fortune.

Recently I feel disappointed that I tried to be bi-polar incognito.  I never talked about it.  I rarely admitted it to myself, let alone to others.  I carefully tiptoed around it in all my interactions.   I am realizing that I regret hiding my struggle.  I may have been able to be a resource to someone who was suffering.  I acknowledge that bipolar disorder has not flawed my character, nor does it define me.  I am more willing to have people feel awkward when I mention my mental illness or even to reject me.  I am hoping to move forward in my ability to be a good parent and to accept the gray.  I am opening a new chapter in my life as a person living with and managing bi-polar disorder, instead of hiding behind it.  As I wrote in a personal essay, I'd like to speak as openly and candidly about my life experiences dealing with bipolar, just as my mom talks about her encounter with breast cancer.

A friend suggested that I read a book called The Parenting Breakthrough.  The author gives advice about raising capable children by teaching them how to do for themselves, rather than doing for them.  After reading the first few chapters I felt defeated.   I asked myself once again if  I needed to abandon my current parenting style.  Then I was able to stop myself.  I don't have to give up on all the good things I've done as a parent.  . . .  Perhaps I have had my own breakthrough.  I will take some of the advice I agree with and implement it into our own parenting plan.  And I will leave the rest behind.  

I am learning to be thankful for the gray days and not judging myself for having them.  And for me that means I'm doing something right.

post script:   I wrote this post before General Conference.  I want to acknowledge that I received a LOT of guidance in the very subject I had so many questions about, namely parenting.  God is always aware of our personal and individual struggles.  I know God loves me.