Families With A Mentally Ill Child Can Use A Break

Bob’s biological father and I are not together, so my husband and I occasionally find ourselves “Bob-less” when he is spending time with dear ol’ Dad. No thanks to a legal loophole, Bob is away from our home nearly every weekend during the summer break.

These Bob-free times are bittersweet for me. I miss him terribly when he’s gone. Because he has bipolar disorder and ADHD, I worry about whether he’s getting enough sleep, or drinking enough water, or being given his medications properly. I worry about what sort of ridiculously dangerous activities he might be taking part in, and how he’s getting along with his father. I wonder if he’s missing us, and while I hope he is, I hope not too much.

Relieving the Pressure of Raising A Bipolar Child

But I’d be lying if I said our house doesn’t give a collective sigh of relief when he leaves. There’s a sort of tension that wraps around us all when he’s home, even during the better times. Particularly for me.

Because he spends so little time with us during the summer, I feel like when he’s home, it’s my personal duty to make sure he has The Most Fun Possible. It’s easy to forget sometimes that what would be most fun for him would be to just relax with us, hanging out in the family room or playing catch in the backyard.

It’s also hard to deal with the shifting dynamic that accompanies his split schedule--our house is rather different from Dad’s, with different rules, different schedules, different personalities. It’s an adjustment every time he returns, and this is a kid who doesn’t embrace change. Even now, with him as stable as he’s ever been, his moods can still turn on a dime, which puts everyone on edge.

So yes, I guiltily admit, we kind of enjoy it a little when he’s gone. We sleep late (he’s an early riser and none too quiet). We go places and do things Bob doesn’t like to do because of noise, crowds, etc. We relax a little because we’re not anticipating a blowup or an argument.

But after a few days, the void becomes more apparent, and we all really start to look forward to his return. I can’t really express the feeling I get when I see my toddler’s face light up when Bob enters the house. We may be slightly less carefree when he’s back, but our home feels whole again.

We have such a love-hate relationship with these kids, don't we? We love them. We hate their mental illness and what it does to them and to us. Ultimately, they are forever a part of us, and part of our families. Sometimes a little break helps us to remember that.