Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Foreclosure and
Mental Illness: Losing your home and your
mental health
Facing the potential loss of a home is awful. To do so when you, and your spouse or
significant other, are both diagnosed as bipolar, the problems become worsen.
The
trauma of losing a home is compounded when there is mental illness, lost income and the other half trying to put
the pieces together. When work is not
plentiful and you’re contending with mental issues that went undetected for 38
years, the reality of mental health becomes a new reality.
Doing
this without insurance is not only rough, it is humiliating, depressing and
usually translates into services you need being totally inaccessible.
My
other half and I worked. We worked hard
and held all assorted jobs. Our house
became a home, a center for our neighborhood and a source of pride. It was also a place where we painted, had
friends to visit, it was in so many ways our American Dream.
Ten
years later it became the American Nightmare.
My
other half became sicker and sicker.
Jobs were obtained and lost. But,
we struggled. For ten years we paid the mortgage. We had two cars, internet access, cable,
trips out to dinner, we were happy and our home represented his ability to
customized the place and make it our own.
When he
became ill, I felt like a piece of me was lost.
I felt so helpless because I did not know what to do. I was really
depending on him more than I knew. As
his mental situation became worse, shaking hands, trembling mouth, I could not
see him and not weep.
Every
time I look at him, and I see him shaking I cry. Even with the medication I am on, those sad
emotions are there. The depth of feeling
that is so low. It hurts so badly when I go up being optimistic only to go down
feeling low. These are not just life’s ups and downs. These are alarming mood
shifts. Once up, you are on the run for
thrills. They derail you. Once down, you
are worthless. It is intensity and duration.
It was
not until I found psychiatric help that I realized what we had, and now it is
going away. Before I know what I had, I
really was not aware of how these things go badly. When I began this journey of self help,
I was surprised. It is one thing to read
about mental illness. It is one thing to realize you have been living for years
with one.
One
could ask how I did not know. It was very simple,it grows gradually. It started for me in high school, suicidal
thoughts. Depression and social
isolation. The depression carried over into college,but even then there were
manic highs, pleasure seeking and intense periods of frustration, anxiety and
depression. I just assumed that was just
life.
When I
took lamotrigine and visitral, I felt a change.
Things did not go away, but at least I had some sense of calm. There was a sense of peace at times. I did appreciate things, but it took
time. The contrast was sharp. If nothing else,life did not feel awful. I still had my downs and ups, but at least
the urges and rushes were gone. I
stopped drinking, and did not look back.
With my drugs, I just needed them to keep things from spinning so fast.
At least is slowed my speech down.
Racing thoughts, restlessness that began to disappear over time.
We
worked with the bank, or believed we were. Papers were requested, often the
same ones over and over again. We
desperately wanted remain in our home.
Having three dogs, and being attached, the opportunities to move
anywhere with them look limited. Weeks
turned into months with no answer on if our home would be refinanced. After nearly seven months of limbo, we saw
they had a date for the sale of our home.
To this
day, the bank never said yes or no. We
obtained a third party to intervene on our behalf. They asked questions, but so far I could
never get an answer.
As the
date for sale came up, I tried to keep working. I also became depressed, tired
worn out and simply was not finding full time work. It became hopeless. Then I found what would
be full time work, only I could not take it for because of a technicality. That was devastating. After a series of problems, struggles and
money issues, I simply fell apart. I could not keep the plates spinning.
When I
finally sought help, my other half helped me.
He was there for me when I really needed someone. I
started to see where I had been so wrong.
He had been patient with me, although I felt like a failure. The guilt of not doing enough for him, for
being all I could be paralyzed me. I could have done more, but I was so mentally
weak. I would go from endless energy to
deep depression.
After my
diagnoses some said I just needed a break. I did not pharmaceuticals or therapy.
They
were wrong.
As well intended as they may have
been, for me I needed, and still need, assistance. The pharmaceuticals are
necessary. I am not an expert, but my
inner feeling is that some within was not right and the meds, the group and
therapy do help.
At
first, I was not sure group therapy would work.
Cynicism, suspicion, I was not ready to see the value of group
therapy. I attended my first group
session for depressed and bipolar disorder.
I went with my other half, but was not sure how effective it would
be. Then I went to my second meeting, and
things changed. I saw myself in the people there
Group
therapy, along with individual therapy were paths to something.
Usually
it takes a dramatic moment, and mine was so bad even now I have a hard time
recounting it. I wondered how I went
from professor to adjunct to someone facing a foreclosure a seriously mentally
ill spouse, my own bipolar and no
insurance. When we both lost our full
time jobs, we lost quality insurance. Things just became even more problematic when
I was experiencing serious mental issues that had been there, but not known.
With my
other half being so ill, I kept my suicidal thoughts from him. My depression, I tried to hide it from
him. I wanted to protect him, and I
failed.
As good
as some of the resources are, there is just not enough when you are facing a
long term mental illness and have no insurance, savings or resources.
Until I
was diagnosed as bipolar, I had no real idea how detrimental this can be. Even with a spouse who has several mental
illnesses, it was very much an abstract and something of a horror. It was someone else’s nightmare, not mine. Intellectually,
I understood what mental illness is and that it is real. However, I did not see myself when I went to
group meetings with my other half. I
could not connect where I was with this.
I thought I was once alright.
It was
not until I hit rock bottom, and realized that my ups, downs, suicidal thoughts
and devastating lows were not the norm.
I was able to function in the world, so I assumed I was alright. As time passed and I juggled work, home and
friends, I became depressed. I took
risks, did things I did not really want to do, and just thought, that is life.
Life is not easy. I did not want to seem
as if I were not “being a man” about this.
Character, will and conditioning taught me not to let those things get to me.
So I
just accepted that my highs, lows, low self-esteem, isolation and anxiety were
just me being me. Racing thoughts, ups
and down, constant restlessness that became my world. I felt something was wrong, but then again, I
was functioning, but barely. The point
is I had no idea that a mental illness was there. I had no clue that it was more than just a
rough spot.
Moves
from place to place, relationships that fell apart, never being satisfied and
never feeling whole, that was the norm.
Faced
with an uncertain future, I worry and feel like there is little left. I keep
holding on to hope. I keep hoping things will get better, but they have yet to
do so.
As bad
as things are, the therapy, understanding my spouse’s condition and having some
peace of mind helps, a lot.
Right
now, I am looking at resources, help, really any kind. Moral support, phone
calls, it all helps.
Again
if others are going through foreclosure and/or mental health issues, I would
like to know.
Perhaps we can help each other.
