Four Months Have Passed

Four Months Have PassedFour months have passed... hardly anytime and yet an eternity. When I think of Sean at four months old, I remember a chubby, happy baby who was doted on by everyone, especially since he was the first boy and oldest grandchild on one side. Everything he did seemed miraculous. Sitting up, smiling, every move was a new experience for him and me. I never realized that I could love anyone this way. I had an amazing job for my age, and yet I couldn't return to work. Leaving him with strangers was out of the question. When the kids at the day cares I looked at cried, I cried. So, I quit my job and stayed home. Every day seemed bright and wonderful. There was no baby more adorable or more loved in the world. I was never happier. I was a Mom to an exceptionally beautiful and sweet boy. It was all I ever dreamed of.During those four months, each day was a gift that brought something new. These past four months have moved in slow motion, but I am still learning about Sean. I have learned that his love of life and music and people was so strong that it reached across the country and the ocean and back. I have learned that although I watched him with great care and attention, there was much I did not know. I didn't know how many people he had become close to. I did not know how many phone numbers he had programmed into his phone! First and foremost, I did not know the extent and seriousness of his illness.Sean had an incredible ability to act, pretend. He used this talent at an early age to do a very realistic Martin Luther King in the third grade. He was cast in every class play, often in comic roles, as he was always naturally very funny. The biggest and best role he ever played, though, was himself. He convinced doctors and counselors and friends and fans that he was ok. He didn't convince me, and for that reason, we clashed at times, especially this past year. I was his Mom and I knew how badly he felt; however, I didn't know how much of that was due to this insidious illness called Bipolar Disorder.When Sean passed, one of my first thoughts was that no one should ever suffer the way he did and die so young because of this disease. It is apparently difficult to diagnose and even trickier to treat. I had given Sean information on it and hoped he would read about it. I sincerely believe that knowledge is power. What I didn't take into consideration is that when your brain isn't giving you accurate information, knowledge is difficult to obtain. In the case of BPD, the simple act of recognizing a person's intention via their facial expression is difficult. No wonder so many who suffer also have social anxiety disorder. Several neurotransmitters are involved in this brain malfunction, and so depression, anxiety and ADHD may be present as well.Sean was brilliant. Anyone who knew him knew that he absorbed objective information like a sponge. His reading material consisted of authors that would challenge Literature and Philosophy majors. There wasn't a nuance of Blues history that he didn't know. Let him listen to a song once, and he could lay down the most innovative and appropriate guitar ever. However, give him something that required negotiation and he would freeze. He was always asking me if something was wrong, if I were mad, and he was convinced that most people in the business end of music didn't like him... not at all true.I gave him the responsibility of learning about his challenge because I had no choice. He was a grown man who lived on his own. The mental health system will only treat those who enter it voluntarily unless they are a threat to themselves or others. Sean never exhibited such a threat. At least not to them. The potential threat to me was there, but Sean didn't even see it. So there is the rub. In order to function, Sean had to pretend that he was ok and do what he needed to do to feel ok. Many, many visits to healthcare professionals later, he was disbelieving of their ability to help him with depression, anxiety and panic attacks. He was old enough to make up his own mind, but dependent on things to survive that altered his own ability to judge. This is not the same as a heart attack or arthritis or even cancer. The brain is the source of the problem and the responsible party for understanding and recovery, at least in an adult. In a high functionning adult, like Sean, the symptoms are not readily visible and correct diagnosis and treatment are elusive.At first, I was unable to read about BPD, as all I could feel was guilt. Why didn't I know more? Why didn't I seek more specialized help? This thought process is circular though and leads to nothing worthwhile. I cannot change what was, and I know that I tried the best that I knew how. The problem was that Sean was diagnosed as an adult and he presented as an exceptional one at that. How distracting his talent was! So handsome and charming and kind and talented and successful, and to a large extent reflective of the musician community. Who would have known how little he slept or how much he doubted himself? Too many people enjoyed him for too many reasons to look much beyond his adorable face and fascinating performances.In order to have some good come of Sean's fate (so much good came of Sean's life that it can not be the end of the story), I must be able to get past this self-indulgence. I am currently reading a book called "Is Your Child Bipolar?" donated to me by Sean's friend, Rachel. It is my contention that there are signs early in a person's life that point to certain biological traits, be they physical or emotional. Take a toddler who loves to throw a ball... when he shows interest in sports, we are not surprised. When a child cries inordinately, or doesn't pass through normal stages of development, this, too, portends future tendencies. When a child asks for a fiddle at age two (as Sean did), chances are a string instrument is in his future!I am going to try to learn about the early warning signs of BPD, so that when a Mom goes into a doctor's office with worries about her child, she will be armed with information to illustrate her fears. When something is diagnosed early, effectiveness of treatment and subsequent outcomes are improved exponentially. My hope is that future blogs will, of course, still carry memories of Sean, but additionally, introduce current information on Bipolar Disorder. If only one person reading that information has the ammunition needed to get the right help in enough time to prevent Sean's tragedy, then the effort is not in vain. I invite all of you to add to my writings with anecdotes or information. We all benefit from dialogue.Sean is a perfet poster "boy" for discussion of mental health issues. Every family has them; yet, few families will talk about them. There is a misconception that people who suffer from mental health diseases are different, odd. They are not. The look like you and me and Sean. They act like really nice and thoughtful and sometimes very happy people like Sean. They are handsome and successful like Sean, and they suffer in silence like Sean.Much can be said about the complication of being a musician and the whole music scene. It is definitely harder to make and keep doctors' appointments; to maintain good sleep habits; and, to stay sober. What fun is it to be in a room of people who are drinking and laughing if you don't drink? Their jokes just aren't as funny, and your schedule is just that much more greuling. This is a whole other story. First, we have to identify who is at risk for serious problems in this milieu, and hopefully, decrease their risk with early intervention.It may very well be that the same genetic code that causes the mood swings and anxiety and sleeplessness is the one that breeds genius and a prolific career. There is definitely research that links the two; however, it would be a failure on the part of society to let the best and brightest, those who bring us the most joy, pass through this world so quickly. There is so much more that they have to offer, and we them. We research cancer and heart disease and other physical disorders and have advanced immeasurably in our knowledge and care. Mental health is seriously lagging behind. Even health care benefit plans discriminate between mental health and physical health coverage. Why? If you have a brain tumor and your symptoms mimic mental illness, you are covered. It is the same organ that is malfunctionning in BPD. As I heard once, no 4 year old says " I want to grow up to be an alcoholic or a drug addict." Somehow, we still think these are failures of willpower. I can assure you they are not. They are perhaps a reflection of lack of hope and definitely are victims of lack of understanding and knowledge.Sean was tough and bright and generous and resilient. I will try to adopt these qualities as I continue on without his physical presence and I will attempt to get going with the goals I established in his honor. It is the least I can do to reflect the courage and initiative and creativity that he showed. I love Sean more now than I did when he was four months old, if that is even possible, and I think I will grow to love him more with everything I learn about the battle that he fought most of his life. That he brought such beauty to the world in the face of such inner turmoil is amazing. Again, I must say without prejudice, Sean is amazing.