Shocked

I have been a little hesitant to blog about this, but I want people realize there is no shame in mental illness.

In a very upbeat tone, "I got electrocuted today and I feel great!," said my sister. This is my first conversation with her, a few days ago, since going through a pretty involved round of of electroshock therapies that will last three weeks. I WAS ABSOLUTELY speechless. I have never known someone to have this let alone someone dear to my heart. My only experience is maybe One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest or Frances about how it was done a long time ago.

My mother and I did not want her to do this. We were very upset about the prospect, but she had left her life in the hands of my father and the California state. We found out the day before it happened. So it gave us no chance to really be there to support her or possibly find some alternatives. My father feels this was her only hope to be stable and the best she will have is possibly doing some kind of "assembly work" as he put it. My sister is a brilliant woman and part of the reason why she is sick. She is probably a little to real for this world and has a hard time coping with it. Her flair for understanding trends in pop culture before they even happened and her writings were incredible, but that was before the drugs and now the shock therapy.

My sister is bi-polar. I would bet I would also be labeled that if I had not taken back my life in my mid-20s. It was a nasty little secret that ran through my father's side of the family. It was never named, but the bizarre stories certainly point it out. I personally had my first episode when I was 11 entering middle school. It was the first time I was acutely aware of the how mean and cruel the world can be and it all centered around my locker. I just could not figure out how that darn thing opened. Anyone that helped me yelled at me or told me was stupid. This was something I was not accustomed to. I went through six weeks of this dark bit of hell I had never experienced before. Luckily a kind gym teacher told me we were going to get this and stayed with me until I figured it out.

Over the years I struggled with depression. I did some stupid things including not wanting to live. I could not get through college and failed at relationships. My life looked hopeless. I felt like I was worthless and would never be able to support myself. Then my aunt fell down a flight of stairs and since there was nothing going on in my life. I flew down to help her. It was the catalyst I needed. I was not focused on my pain, but helping someone else through theirs. I found my inner strength.

My sister's depressions did not start until she was in high school. Now everyone thinks my sister's mental illness is far worse than what I want through. Who knows. What I do know is deep down I always loved myself and genuinely had a positive outlook on live. So it was hard to stay in the "pit" as I called it. So I roller coasted a lot. My sister has given up hope that she can ever help herself out of this. I struggle with my relationship with her because of this. To her it is everyone else's fault. She would rather have drugs and now shock therapy to cope. I am still finding my peace about all of this and I do hope it works for her and she will find that light at the end of the tunnel.

I do appreciate my mother's knowledge of the system. She fought to keep us out of it as teenagers. I have no idea where I would be if that had not happened.

I use alternative means with essential oils, homoeopathics, and diet to help cope. I now see depression as a gift. When I look back at what triggered the depressions it was my brick wall to show me I was on the wrong path. When I corrected the path my life was even better before the depression hit. I emotionally grew stronger and realized I will never be "mainstream". I will just be me.