One of my sons went to the doctor for depression.  The doctor had him fill out a questionnaire that asked things like, “Do you think that bad things will happen to you?  Do you think that you are going to die?”  Even when my son is depressed, he always seems to find the humor in things.  He’s telling me the story and we’re both laughing, “Of course bad things are going to happen to me and I’m going to die.”  Doesn’t everyone know that?  As an alcoholic, those thoughts come naturally for me and apparently they come naturally for him too.

It turns out that he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder in which at first I took the news rather well and decided that it made sense with some of his dangerous behaviors and highs and lows.  I was relieved he at least had a name to it and that there is definite help for it.  But after a couple of hours I started catastrophizing it.  I thought about all the bad things that could happen with it and thought that maybe he could die from dangerous behaviors or suicide.  I also thought that I must have been a really bad mother and I asked myself if I was abusive and I don’t remember it or don’t recognize it.  The more I wondered if I was crazy the crazier I got.

I texted my sister for some support and she said what I expected her too.  She told me to raise my energy and think about all the things I love about my son and to think positive thoughts about his healing.  She told me to create wellness and love.  I totally agreed with her, but as always, the practice is far harder than the theory.

By the end of the day I was so exhausted with worry and projection and beating myself up that I came home from work and went to bed without fixing dinner for myself or my husband.  As I lay in bed I thought of the things my sister told me to do.  I knew she was right but I still wanted to sulk.  I knew my son needed positive support but I couldn’t lift myself up enough to send it to him through meditation, prayer or any other way.  I couldn’t shake the thought that it was my fault or that I could have prevented it.

So I did what I used to do when I first got sober.  It’s my personality to fear life and tough times and just go to bed in the fetal position for days or weeks and not come out of my room fearing what’s on the outside.  When I first got sober I was afraid of doing that because I knew that I wouldn’t come out of my room except to go to the liquor store.  So when I went through divorce, or broke up with my boyfriend or needed a fourth surgery on my hand, I’d go to bed in fetal position but I would limit it.  Just for today I’ll stay in bed.  Tomorrow morning I’ll resume my regular life and practice positive thinking.

By doing that, I’ve allowed myself to grieve but not wallow.  It takes the pressure off and I don’t have to beat myself up for not being positive in a tough situation or not practicing what I preach.  I went to bed at 6:00am and got up in the morning and things looked just a little lighter which made it easier for me to meditate on the positive and send my son positive energy.

He called me two days later and reported that he was already feeling better.  I contribute it to the creation of positive energy and technology of course.  I also contribute it to the fact that I wasn’t trying to fight against the tide.  I allowed myself just enough isolation and grief to let some very real feelings and fear out but not enough to stop my productivity.  It allowed me to be rational about his depression and it allowed me to accept it as being life on life’s terms.

Just for today, I give myself a break and allow myself the time to pull myself together.