There. I Said It.

Some days are good.  Some days are bad.  And most days are both.  In addition to his anxiety, ADHD and depression, Noah suffers from a mood disorder.  There.  I said. it.  And it is a struggle for him, for us, to manage.

Everyday is like walking on a lake in the beginning of winter, unsure of how thick the ice is.  You gently take your steps forward…one by one…hoping the ice won’t crack beneath your weight.

You move forward, setting one foot down at a time, waiting to see if the ice will support your weight.  Simultaneously relieved when it doesn’t crack, but tense and feeling pressure build in your body and mind as you anticipate the next step and wonder if this time, the ice will break.

The moods can come on in an instant.  I have become more astute at anticipating triggers or environments that could cause him to be unstable.  But most of the time, they come on, without any warning or indication.

A few days ago, we experienced another one of these episodes.  It came on quick and with no notice.  In fact, we’d been having a good time in the pool, enjoying a hot summer day.  Suddenly, his mood escalated.  His actions became aggressive and insistent.  Within a few minutes, he was submerged in mania and couldn’t find his way out.  When he gets in these states, communicating with him is nearly impossible.  It seems he can’t hear you.  He can’t see you.  In fact, he doesn’t look at you, but looks through you.  And it is haunting.

During the mania, when I look at him, it is like I am looking at a stranger.  He doesn’t seem like the Noah I know.  He seems to be almost a shadow or dark side of himself, listening to that devil that lives on his shoulder. As these manic episodes increase and continue, this Noah is becoming more familiar to me.  It is scary.  And it hurts, because I don’t know how to help him.

On this day, although more intense than usual, the mania ran its usual course, ending with him sobbing and feeling sad about what happened.  He came to me and apologized.  I held him and I told him that it’s going to be okay.  That these moments don’t define him.  And I told him not to be sorry.  That he is loved and that together, we will get through this.

Moments after the tears stopped falling from his eyes, he decided to write about the experience.  With his permission, I’m sharing what he wrote:

I made my mom so upset that she cried just now

I feel like running away
I want to
I’m sad
I love mom
I wish I was not on this world
I don’t want that to happen again

What I felt: anger at myself and sadness about mother

Every time he has an episode, this is how he feels.  Every. Time.

It is a wonder this beautiful boy finds his way back from the depths of his darkness to the

sunlight and smiles. Because the light that shines from him when he does is transcending.  He brings joy to those around him.  And I pray every night, that some day, the light that he shines on others, will shine right back on him…and he will see the gift that he is to this world.