Emails to my Mom…

Thanks Mom, for your latest email. I am so happy about Obama.  His speech last night was amazing.

I understand why you wrote the way you did (see her email below) about labels.  However, I feel that labels can sometimes help….although the word “bipolar” (and the term “manic depression”) both sound off-putting and are extremely stigmatized by our society, these terms are simply describing a mental illness that is no different than having diabetes or cancer. 

Plus, as I wrote before, the greatest minds of our time seem to have bipolar more often than not.

I will not give up on discussing this topic with you.  Never.  All the pieces of our family’s puzzle now fit together as I look back at your behavior over the years.  Your extreme rages, violence, creativity and brilliance all stem from something beyond the norm.  I feel compelled to speak the truth with you.  I also believe that a part of you admires me for not being a milquetoast and for holding my own ground.  Boy, after 3 hospitalizations in the “loony bin” I have found that I am a very strong woman and I am not afraid of people’s reactions so much anymore.   My self-esteem is back, and I know I have a good mind on my shoulders — sure, it’s a bipolar mind, but I am honestly proud of having bipolar if it puts me in company with:

Abraham Lincoln, Dr. Kay Redfield Jamison, Carrie Fisher, Virginia Woolf, L.M. Montgomery (author of “Anne of Green Gables” and “Emily of New Moon”), Paul Hester (may he rest in peace, this incredibly loving father of two young girls committed suicide due to his bipolar in 2002 and he’s one of my favorite musicians from the band Crowded House that I’ve always raved to you about….), Lord Byron,  Samuel Taylor Coleridge,  Patty Duke, Charles Dickens, Ralph Wlado Emerson,  musician Peter Gabriel (whose music I love) , Ernest Hemingway, John Keats, Margot Kidder the actress, Vivian Leigh, Florence Nightengale, Sir Isaac Newton, Sinead O’Connor (love her), Cheri Oteri of Saturday Night Live (gifted comedienne), Jane Pauley, Edgar Allen Poe, Robert Schumann the composer, actress Gene Tierney of your generation, Margaret Trudeau,  Vincent Van Gogh, Thom Yorke of the famous band Radiohead, and Phil Judd, co-founder of one of my all-time favorite bands Split Enz, in New Zealand.  

Granny would want me to tell you how I feel and not pretend that “everything is okay” and that you “do not have problems”.

Sometimes I feel that she is speaking to me from beyond the grave to talk to you and urge you to seek help for yourself.   Please make an appointment when things settle down a bit with Dad.

 

Love you always, Mom.

 

Dyane

 

From Mom to Dyane…..

Love you very much-labels are just that-to me what is important is how one lives their life-how we raise our children-we all do the best that we can-I know that I was not the perfect mom by any means or wife but what I do know is that I love my children and grandchildren and hisband (yes daddy) with all my heart. I am so proud of your talents and creativity and of you. Love, MOMxxxxxxxx

— On Tue, 11/4/08, Dyane Harwood 

> Subject: Re: Dyane Leshin Harwood in the news – again!

> To: phia36

> Date: Tuesday, November 4, 2008, 6:46 AM

> thanks Mom – I love you and still feel you have bipolar too

> – it’s a creative illness and absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. 

> There is a  reason for your rages over the years, in terms of your

> brain chemistry, and I think you have also been slightly manic

> throughout  your life at certain times- perhaps you have bipolar II,

> otherwise known as “soft” bipolar.

> 

> i love you and thank you for your support.

My song “The End of the Day” about having bipolar disorder….

For the past 20+ years I have written songs, and played a wee bit of guitar.  I also have sung at local open mikes, performances and in the UCSC Concert Choir, once upon a time.  

I wrote the following song “The End of the Day” when I was in solitary confinement at the hospital in October, 2008, and I practiced it at the top of my lungs.  (That unpadded cell has *great* acoustics, I kid you not!)  

 

The End of the Day

by Dyane Leshin-Harwood  

 

I have an illness in my head, I have an illness in my head

And it seems…I go to extremes

And everyone wants me to do it, everyone wants me to do what they say

Although I have my own way….

 

I don’t know, but I do care

At the end of the day

You can call me crazy and I’ll agree

At the end of the day

I know I’ll be okay

 

I have two little girls, I have two little girls

I miss them more than words can ever say

It has been five long days, it has been five long days

since I was with them all day…and night, yeah

 

I don’t know, but I do care

At the end of the day

You can call me crazy and I’ll agree

At the end of the day

I know I’ll be okay

 

You know I do see how this frustrates you

But I ask you, have you ever been in my shoes

Have you ever had bipolar too?

‘Cause I do, and now I know what to do…

What happened October 15th, 2008

The day began well. I jumped out of bed with anticipation, after sleeping soundly through the night. (That in itself was a huge accomplishment, as I had only slept between 2 hours and 6 hours for weeks on end.) But my life soon started to go awry.  First I had what I call a “freak-out” with my brother.  (Others  close to me call it a psychotic outburst) My younger brother called me and said some upsetting things to me.  I started yelling at him, which is something I regret now.  However, my husband had asked my brother to take a break from calling me, as he wasn’t understanding what I was going through in terms of dealing with my bipolar stuff. As my brother disregarded Craig’s request, he was, in fact, triggering me which really angered me After we had a horrible argument on the phone, I thought the worst part of the day was over. (I went into another room to shout at him, so that my kids weren’t in the same room, but it’s a small house, so of course they heard, but I reassured them after our argument as best as I could.)

That morning I was hosting a “2005 baby” playgroup at my house, so an onslaught of babies, toddlers and mommies soon filled up our 1000 square-foot home. We also had a visit from a photographer at our local paper, the Santa Cruz Sentinel. The support group I created, for women with bipolar, was being profiled in the paper and the writer wanted a photo of me and my family.  So after everyone had left the house, I started to pick up frantically so that when Craig came home, it would be nice & neat. After having gone out for a hike during our playgroup, he returned, and before he said hello or anything kind to me, he snapped at me.  I lost it.  I started screaming at him, and he picked up the phone to call the police, as over the past week he had been telling me that if I got out of control, he would call the police in the hope that I would be hospitalized and forced back on the drugs that had been so toxic for me.  I got so furious with him that I started punching him. (I regret this – especially since I grew up with domestic violence and swore my own children would never be around such madness.) This was the first time I had ever hit him during our nine years together. I even ripped his T-shirt.  Four police officers appeared at our doorstep in record time. They separated me and Craig, one kind officer hung out with me and our kids, and he started to interview me about what happened. Long story short?  I was told that the polcie wanted to bring me to our local hospital’s behavioral health unit for an evaluation.  I agreed, and complied with them.  Craig took the kids to our babysitter, so he didn’t have to watch me get handcuffed in front of our home, with three squad cars flashing their lights ominously at me. Before I got handcuffed, I realized there was a very good chance I would be put on a “5150″ (a mandatory 72-hour hold for observation) and so I asked if I could bring a book, or any of my bipolar health supplements, and they said “You won’t be needing that.”  The fact that I was denied taking my own treatments would later prove to be very frustrating and damaging to my mental health.   More to come soon!