My Grandmother

 In this journey of discovery of my bipolar diagnosis, I have been reflecting on my grandmother and her story. She is diagnosed with bipolar disorder and has suffered from mania and depression all her life. For most of my life, my family members have just dismissed her as "crazy", "psycho" or "weak". They blame her for all of her manic actions like she has control over it. I grew up with these ideas which I am slowly unraveling. My heart now feels compassion for her instead of hatred or resentment for how her actions affect our family.

My family is full of people who have mental health issues, drug issues, alcohol issues, or narcissism issues. It is funny to see how the "crazy gene" manifests in different ways along the family tree. Not a single person is unscathed. The blame, the resentment, and the trauma fester in all of our hearts towards each other. Family gatherings consist of a bunch of people who hate each other and hurt each other pretending nothing has ever happened and everything is sunshine and roses. It's really quite laughable now that I am in a position where I can look at it objectively. 

The person I a now beginning to understand is my grandma or my "Gege" as we call her. She is actually a really remarkable person. She was a model, an entrepreneur, a boat captain, and a mother and grandmother. She got her captain's license at the age of 72. No doubt during a bout of mania but still, that's pretty badass. She has suffered her fair share of trauma. Her mother and events in her life have left her just as scared as you'd expect. I think someone needs to write a book about her life and all the interesting things she has done. It would be on the New York Times bestsellers list. 

When I was fourteen is when I really saw her first manic episode. We had just moved to the town she lives in, and I will never forget to this day her telling us about this. My cousin and grandma were driving somewhere, and they passed a Volkswagen dealership. A cherry red convertible bug was sitting in the parking lot. She pulled in and just bought it. Just like that. Not a single plan, preconceived thought, or moment of logic crossed her mind. We all thought, "What the hell, who does that? Look at the financial damage that must have caused." But now I understand how she could just go buy a car like that. It was mania. You feel like you're in a dream. Like nothing is real, but at the same time, everything is real. You can do anything. When people question you, you get frustrated because you are superman. I went on a lululemon/athleta shopping spree. Ask my husband and credit card how awesome that was. 

I have also seen her at her low. Recently she had heart surgery that was supposed to fully enhance her quality of life. For two or three weeks after her surgery, she didn't get out of bed. No one knew why. She was supposed to be jovial and full of life now. Her heart was fixed. But her bipolar had taken her down. All of my family hassled her, guilted her, and yelled at her about her action, or lack thereof. They tore her down for letting my grandpa take care of everything for her. How shitty right? Like she feels like she physically can't get out of bed due to the crushing weight of depression, and all of the people who are supposed to love her tell her she is a witch for it. Like damn. I did it too though. I was in denial of my own bipolar and followed along with my family. 

None of my family members are truly Jesus followers. Some of them go to church, but no one actually has been redeemed and reborn. No wonder the environment is so toxic. My family is absolutely ruled by sin and the consequences of that follow us generationally. The puck stops with my family though. Josh and I are redeemed. I am in therapy and counseling so we don't pass along the family curse. Pray for my grandma and family. They need Jesus. 

My grandma, her show dogs, and I around 2005.