Forgetting Memories

One of the memories that stays with me is the comments made by my wife, Karla, following the birth of our first child.  It had been a difficult childbirth, for sure, complicated by preeclampsia.  When everything was said and done, her very serious comments were "Dave, we need to talk.  I can't do this again.  I mean it.  Only one child."  My response was that we'd wait more than a few hours before we take permanent action.  I believe God blocks the memory of mothers so that they will in fact consent to more than one pregnancy.  Otherwise, the human race might decline fifty percent with each passing generation.

Forgetting is sometimes essential to life.

It's been two weeks.  Two weeks ago you couldn't open a news page without seeing multiple stories on the church shooting in Texas.  I checked this morning.  Not one mention on CNN's home page.  One of the reasons we don't act in response to these mass murders is that we choose to forget them.  Life goes on.  To an extent, this is necessary.  It would be hard for us to function as a church if our members retained their memories of such tragedies.  They would become captive to their fears.  The new visitors would be looked at with suspicion.  Locked doors would become the norm. 

Sometimes we cannot allow ourselves to forget, lest life not  go on. 

I've enjoyed a number of years now of mood stability.  I still see my psychologist and psychiatrist regularly to help monitor my moods, and to maintain my medication regimen.  But on a day to day basis it is tempting to forget. 

Yesterday, as is typical on Saturdays, I napped most of the morning and even some in the afternoon.  With my current work schedule, leaving home at 4:30 am, getting home about 6 pm, with just enough time to eat and then head to bed, the weekends are makeup time.  I try to catch up on my sleep.

But I remember a time when being couch bound was not for the sake of making up on my sleep, but because of being in a deep depression and being incapable of generating enough energy to even get up and shower.  And then there were the manic times.  Generally, my manic phases were quite enjoyable.  The sky was the limit.  Unfortunately, they also came with a  cost.  The last major manic phase cost me about $60,000.  Now I have some great woodworking equipment.  Probably would have been wise to just have some 'good' woodworking equipment.  That pales in comparison to my senior housing manic phase.  Millions of dollars spent.  Not my money.  And we did get one project complete. 

I need to remember.  Bipolar people can ill afford to forget. 

The cardinal sin of being bipolar is to forget, to believe one is all better, and to cease all medication and treatment.  The result is not pretty.

It's not unlike an alcoholic that forgets what drinking really was like.  When an alcoholic relapses after years in recovery they discover that while they were sober, the disease continued to progress.  No amount of time cures alcoholism.  One doesn't get to go back to drinking the way one did early in one's life.  In fact the experience of relapse is worse than the original 'rock bottom'. 

That's my understanding of being bipolar.  You think your moods were unstable before being treated?  Well, you haven't seen anything yet.  Try going it alone, without treatment, and see just how high the manic phases are and low the depression can get.  Ceasing medication is the most sure fire ticket to hospitalization that there is. 

I appreciate my wife's help, here.  "Have you taken your pills?"  Thankfully, my psychiatric meds are all taken at bedtime, and without them I can't sleep, so I almost never miss a dose. 

Insurance companies can be interesting.  They like to question whether certain medications are really necessary.  I take eye drops for glaucoma, and will for the rest of my life.  "Is this really necessary?"  Well not if your willing to go blind.  Thankfully, they have never questioned my psychiatric meds.  Apparently they too remember.  The cost of hospitalization exceeds the cost of medication by a fair piece. 

Forgetting memories.  Sometimes it seems to be essential to life to let memories go and move on.  At other times it is necessary to cultivate those memories lest one repeat them.  Wisdom is knowing the difference.