A mum-of-two shares her struggles with bipolar disorder

Text Yohanna Abdullah

For the past seven years I have been a manic depressive mum. It is hard as a mum to reflect on the kind of impact my illness has on my children. My son Hykel was only eight months old when I was first diagnosed with this illness, while my daughter was almost three.

Bipolar disorder, as it's also known, can be hereditary; I happen to have a near relative who also has the illness. But usually, it is brought about by trauma and, in my case, it was the discovery of my husband’s affair.

The first time
In my first episode, I took my daughter, Ayesha, to my weekend home in Johor, thinking I was to join my family, who live in Kuala Lumpur. I left my son in the care of my mother-in-law. I cried buckets when I left him at home to go to work that day, bringing my daughter along. As the winds howled and the rain pelted, I had the distinct premonition that the world was ending.
 
I was so dazed with swiftly-running ideas and delusions that little did I realise that my daughter and I had only a Kit Kat and Yakult each. My ex-husband came to collect us and drag me back, but at home, later I took off my clothes and swung my children merrily, spinning dizzily.

I don't know why, but I love to twirl when I am manic, maybe in an attempt to simplify the world into one whole blur. Ayesha till today remember that moment as just another oddity of her mother, who is not always well.
 
What she remembers most is our outing at Changi Airport when she was seven. We spent the night there, as I did not want to go home and face the music from my parents for once again being manic.

At the airport, we played games, helped ourselves to free food from three F&B outlets and I pushed them around in the baggage trolleys, doing zigzags, going backwards and in orchestrated moves. I sang and danced aloud, much to Ayesha's embarrassment, and continued despite her pleas to stop.

I only left the airport in the morning after having spent the $30 I had on me, borrowed from my grocer as I forgot my handbag in my haste. My daughter wrote about and drew our exploits, saying that it was the most fun time she had, although some parts were painfully embarrassing. One was that she finds me flirtatious with men, which is, unfortunately, part of the manic package.

Mama is stressed
Hykel seldom talks about my illness, except in the term that the grandma uses, "Mama is stressed". What that means is that I may rest in hospital while my mood returns to normal, and they have the pleasure of visiting me in my Ward 12 at National University Singapore, which is like my halfway house to recovery. My children never complain to me directly or make me feel guilty about being sick, but simply express the wish that I could be with them every day.

Otherwise life goes on for them, even last October when I became manic in the midst of preparing my daughter's birthday party and rested in hospital while the show went on, with both grandmothers' efforts.

Ayesha enjoyed her party as much as if I had been there myself and shared with me the cake and the highlights. Her friends and family gathered in numbers. I am fortunate that I still have parents and in-laws to take nurture my children while I am sick.

Like any other mum?
Other than when I am struck by mania, I am a mum like any other. I guide my children with the values that I hold dear, even though I may temporarily discard some when I am ill (such as smoking and drinking alcohol).

My children don't see me as any different from other mums, apart from the fact that I am more fun and spunky in their eyes and will bring them to places on my own or with my myriad friends, traipsing around Sungei Buloh or Chek Jawa or to Chinatown and Little India.

There are however certain facts that we have to live with. It is harder for me to find permanent employment when most companies require us to declare our mental and physical health.

I have always felt it best to be upfront and not feel that it is a stigma to be afflicted in this fashion. As a single parent, I feel the pinch but I strive to work harder as a freelance writer, translator and graphic designer. Ironically, most of my friends find me the sanest of the lot when I am well.

I am trying my best to regularise myself through medication and lifestyle changes so that I can get off this emotional roller coaster. I can't expect my parents to be there for me each time I fall ill.

As much as mania is intoxicating, I don't want to be a manic mum. I want to be a magnificent mum!

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