Alyssa Leolani

Cont. from Part 1.

Thinking that maybe the mood swings and depression episodes were connected to the traumatic experience of teaching our son with autism how to speak and function for 2 years and then dealing with a very challenging defiant 3 year old, I began to see a therapist. With his wise and loving nature, it didn’t take him long to recognize that this was more than a trauma from challenging circumstances.

Something was off.

 Just a few weeks later I found myself sitting on a couch in a psychiatrist’s office. It was an odd experience to be filling out extensive questionnaires for me and not for Jagger, though the questions were just as overwhelming. 

Do you feel depressed some of the time, most of the time, all the time, none of the time? Do you get distracted when trying to complete a task? Do you feel sad? How often do you feel happy? Have you lost interest in things you used to enjoy doing?

I didn’t know how to answer these. I was uncomfortable being so vulnerable and honest about these feelings. I had never voiced them out loud before, because I always thought I would sound crazy. I never imagined this. I never ever visualized that I, the happy-go-lucky, bubbly, socially competent, well-rounded girl would be waiting for someone to tell her how crazy she really is. I also knew this would come as a shocker to anyone who knew me.

Once I finished the questions, I waited.

Tensely.

Nervously.

Worriedly.

I had the same desperate thoughts circulating around and around my head: Please help me. Tell me what is wrong with me. I can’t go one more day feeling this way.

Fix me please.

The psychiatrist was a sweet man, and I trusted him immediately. I held my breath waiting for the diagnosis to come, hoping he wasn’t going to tell me that I was just a stressed mother having a bad day, because I knew that this was something far beyond that. He asked more questions and then finally told me the diagnosis: 

Cyclothymia. 

Cyclothymia is a mood disorder that falls under the bipolar umbrella. It is a more mild form of bipolar in the sense that the manics don’t go as high as bipolar manics, and the depressive episodes don’t go as low as their depressive episodes. However, individuals with cyclothymia cycle through their moods faster than those with bipolar, and if the disorder goes untreated, it can turn into bipolar. Based on the progression and intensity of my emotional states, I knew I had headed in the direction of bipolar.

As soon as the words came out of the psychiatrist’s mouth, I felt a flood of relief come over me.

Yes, that’s it! Now I have a name for what is going on with me! Now I know what direction to go in, and I can learn more about my broken body and mind! There is a light at the end of the tunnel, hallelujah!

I’M NOT CRAZY!

But then as quickly as the excitement came, it disappeared as panic and worry took over. Will the medication work on me? Have I had this my whole life? If so, how would my life have been had I not had this disorder? How many relationships would have ended better or not at all, and how many friendships would I still have?

The guilt came on strong as my eyes were opened to the reality and consequences of this disorder, and I realized that this diagnosis was not the end of my problems. Darkness began to settle in, and just when my anxiety, panic, and fear were about to take over me,

I had a flashback.

I could suddenly see so clearly in my mind an anxious mom and a silent little boy sitting in front of a psychiatrist not too long ago. I could hear loud and clear as if this happened just yesterday, the word autism come out of her mouth. I remember my heart stopping. I remember the same emotions- anxiety, panic and fear overwhelming me.

I cried in that office, I cried the whole way home, and I didn’t stop crying for three days after that. Much to my surprise though we did not fall apart. We did not live in constant despair. Our world didn’t stop turning. Each night turned into another day. The darkness did not overcome us, because the label of autism did not change anything about who Jagger is, or how strong we are as a family. We rose to the occasion, and day by day we tackled our challenges one by one. Though autism has never gone away, we have been strong, happy, and close in spite of it and in some ways, because of it.

We are okay.

 This flashback erased all of the emotions threatening to capsize me. A calmness spread throughout my whole body and peace came into my mind. I just knew with all of my heart that I would be okay. I would be okay because my little boy, my light, my hero has shown me how to be okay. (That’s just one of the thousand reasons autism has blessed our family by the way). I walked out of that psychiatrist’s office with not just a prescription but a hope and excitement for the chance to experience life through a different lens.

I was excited to feel!

The medication has been very effective in stabilizing my moods but it only works about 90% of the time, so I pray for strength to handle the episodes that occur during that 10% time period. I understand that my untreated disorder contributed to lost friendships. There were bridges burned in the past due to my unstable nature, and that will take a lot of time and effort to repair. I also know that there are some I will never be able to repair. I have a lot of work ahead of me with fences to mend, lows to endure, doctors to see, and a lifetime full of therapy sessions… 

But I will tell you one thing. 

I have dance parties in the kitchen with my kids now. We dance in the car. They dance on my feet. I dance when I’m stressed. I dance when I’m happy. I pick my kids up and twirl them around just like I used to watch other moms do.

I can dance because I not only hear the music, I can feel it.

After going a whole lifetime of doing an awkward shuffle, I am soaking up every single second of being released from the tight cords that bound me. My whole heart is overflowing with love, gratitude, and excitement for a second shot at life and at motherhood.

For anyone trapped in a mental world of pain and anguish, for those who battle with silent and invisible demons, for those who are desperately clinging to a thread of sanity, and for those who are swimming in despair or deep sadness from the tragedies and hardships in life.

Do not give up. DO NOT GIVE UP. If you are struggling to find someone to hold on to, hold on to the Savior who feels what we feel and promises to heal all that is broken, including broken minds and bodies.

There is always hope. There’s always a reason to live.

And there’s always a chance to dance.

“Believe in miracles. I have seen so many of them come when every other indication would say that hope was lost. Hope is never lost. If those miracles do not come soon or fully or seemingly at all, remember the Savior’s own anguished example: if the bitter cup does not pass, drink it and be strong, trusting in happier days ahead.^5″ 

https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2013/10/like-a-broken-vessel?lang=eng

https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2013/10/like-a-broken-vessel?lang=eng#note5