Bipolar Mayhem: Confession of an Enabler

I am as upset and shaken to the core as is humanly possible right now, and, though I loathe feeling this way... I'm also enraged. Family members have always said I favor my maternal Grandfather in that I'm extremely tolerant, have a very long, slow-burning fuse, endeavor to see every situation/behavior/personality manifestation "through other guy's eyes", and am always the last person to give up on someone. But like him, when I DO throw in the towel, I'm DONE.

A co-worker of ours suffers with manic depression (more modernly known as Bipolar Disorder), and six or seven of us have for years circled the wagons around her, providing her with every form of support, from financial to empathy to watching her children to shouldering an extra work burden during her many absences and when she is actually present at work but not able to pull her share of the load due to her condition. Collectively, I think, we've come together like this on her behalf because we are, each and every one, dealing with the very same issues of childhood and adult emotional/physical abuse and mental illnesses/impairments that she is... and have never failed her as an abiding sounding board, circle of understanding friends, and unfailing source of support. Throughout it all, at least one of our numbers has ALWAYS been there to listen at work or when she calls us as she rants and raves about how she was abused as a child, what a monster her sexually, physically, and emotionally abusive her stepfather was, how indifferent he is to her continuing demands that he acknowledge his guilt and the devastation it wrought in her childhood and adolescence, and how it and her thusly exacerbated mental illness continue to ruin her life and leave her with no hope or future as a result. She has confided that she's been married and divorced three times, and each ex-husband is a complete bastard, (even though the latest ex, who is the father of her three children, pays child support faithfully and remains a constant in his children's lives, despite the volatility she demonstrates toward him to this day, even with the children present.) We continue including her in social functions, inviting her into our homes, taking her out for brunches/dinner/movies/bowling/etc., despite the fact that she often declines or cancels because she is just too tired or suffering from headaches and/or a number of other ailments. We've remained abidingly encouraging and supportive, and sincerely praise the efforts she does make when they are praiseworthy, despite her apathy, undeniable lack of appreciation, and unrelenting attitude of "my life is a pile of shit and won't ever change, no matter what I do, so fuck it." We have lent her money she's never repaid because the kids needed something and she couldn't make ends meet to take care of it, even though she plays Bingo four to six times weekly and loses far more than she's won. We've all pussyfooted around her and covered for her when she's having a bad headache or intestinal issues on the days she does show up (usually late) for work, and no one has ever lit into her when she snaps and snarls, opting not to upset/escalate her and attempting to be empathetic regarding her illness and past history of abuse. Two of us have immediately responded to and watched over her and the children throughout the night twice now after she went ballistic, threatened suicide, and took God only knows how many and what kind of pills. In her estimation, none of the plethora of physicians and therapists she's gone through know what they're talking about, none of the pharmacological cornucopia of medications they've prescribed for her do her any good... she was dealt a rotten hand in life and won't ever be able to get past the wrongs done to her; therefore, "don't even talk to her" about trying to heal are the words she flings at us in anger we simply cannot assuage.

Today, though, she finally not only lit my fuse, but fanned it 'till it burned to it's very end...

I'd arranged with her last week that we'd go shopping at the Mall together today. As most people know about me, I despise traffic and shopping throngs, but her car is out of service and she needed to get out and "get the stink blown off of her". I told her I'd treat her to lunch and we'd make a Holiday lark out of it. I knew her 4-year-old would be coming along, but that her 9- and 10-year-olds would be in school.

This morning, she called to cancel because she'd had a bad migraine last night, took some medicine for it, slept through the alarm clock, and the kids had missed their school bus. I told her that was no big deal; that they could come, too, if she still felt like going. She said, " Yeah ! If you don't mind the extra passengers, I'm up for it... I'd never turn down a free lunch ! "

So I saddled up Annie Laurie and trundled on over to her place, picked them up, and set off for the Mall. I had a Christmas music cassette tape playing, and the kids began singing " We Wish You a Merry Christmas ". I was just opening my mouth to join them when their Mother bellowed, "Will you brats SHUT THE FUCK UP !!!???!!! How many times do I have to TELL YOU to shut the fuck UP !!! ".

I don't know how many times she'd "had to tell them that" before I picked them up, but it was certainly the first time she had since they'd piled into my car. After nearly veering off the road when she scared the crap out of me by shrieking at the kids like that, an utter hush fell over the once merry little bunch. I have always been impressed with how intelligent, innocent, and sweet-natured these children are, despite the chaotic events they'd witnessed at their mother's hands due to her illness and its attendant manifestations, and I wanted so badly to tell Carol, "It's okay, hun, I don't mind 'em singing at all", but was too afraid to do so for fear I'd inadvertently ratchet up her ire all the more. So I kept my mouth shut, and the sole person who spoke for the remainder of the trip was Carol, who expounded at length about how rotten she'd been feeling, what an "asshole" our Supervisor is, how stressed out "these fucking kids" make her, and what a "piece of shit" her life is in general. Nothing I've not heard from her many times before... but something I'd stupidly not realized her children have long been enduring even more often than her circle of friend/co-workers do.

So we get to the Mall, and the parking lot was a zoo. We wound up parking two clicks north of Pluto, and began trekking toward the Main Entrance. Carol and her kidlets, none of whom ( including Carol herself ) had taken ahold of anyone else's hand, got a head start and were walking slightly ahead of me because I'd had to pause a moment to lock up the car. As I turned to catch up with them, the 4-year old was in the lead... and I saw the back-up tail lights of a parked vehicle the little feller was crossing behind blink on. Fearing the driver might back out of his parking space and run over a tiny child he could not see in his rear window or mirror, I screamed, " Carol, grab Jeremy!!! " Apparently the driver heard me and braked immediately, and Carol ran up and snatched Jeremy by the neckline of his jacket, and marched on toward the Entrance, jerking him along in tow. She also bestowed an evil, withering look upon her 10- year old, telling him, "You're in for it now... you KNOW better than to let your brother walk without taking his hand ! ". The young lad looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi.

As soon as we entered the Main Atrium, Carol grabbed the 10-year old, roughly bent him over a Visitor's bench, unsnapped the detachable leather shoulder strap from her handbag, folded it double, and started wailing the tar out of that child's buttocks, telling the 9-year old that she was next because she knew better, too. I know she got at least six licks in before I could react and physically intervene; I shudder to think of how many more she would have inflicted upon both he and his sister had I not physically stopped her. By now, all three children were in tears and nearly hysterical and a sizable number of people had stopped dead in their tracks and were staring in utter shock and disbelief as, with a backdrop of Holiday decorations glistening all around us, Carol yelled at me, "take your fucking hand off my arm before I knock you out, Bitch! Not you or anyone else tells me how to raise my children!"

I did take my hand off her arm... after gathering all three kids behind me, and told her she had one of two options: either I would take the children with me to stay with their father for the remainder of the afternoon and evening, or I could summon the police right here to the Mall, file a complaint against her on the spot, and request that the children be removed from her care and placed in a safe environment. After a few more choice expletives, invectives, and threats from her, I finally interrupted and evenly told her, " Make your choice, Carol. Right now. I'll give you cab fare to get home on your own and I'll take the kids to their Dad... or we call the cops, right here and right now. Either way, these kids aren't going anywhere with you for the moment." She venomously voiced her preference for the former option.

So the kids are safe with their Dad for the night, and he promised he would not give them back to her for at least through the night while she gets a grip. The phone was ringing when I came in my door after dropping them off, and I've since been treated to four back-to-back calls abounding with vulgarity and swearing... what a Bitch I am, how NO ONE has the right to judge her or interfere with how she disciplines her children, how no one has a CLUE how horrible and hopeless her life is and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. When I tried to tell her that I was not judging OR condemning her, but that we all HAVE to break the cycle of child abuse and it has to start with us because we can't break the part of the cycle that's already part of the past, she simply said, "Fuck you." and hung up on me... only to call me right back a few minutes later with a continuation of her verbal barrage. Finally, I called Dave to check on the kids, and he reported that she's calling and screaming at HIM... that he and I are in cahoots, that we're against her, etc. He thinks she's either over-medicated on perhaps too many kinds of meds... or has maybe gone off all meds altogether. Either way, he and the kids are going to spend the night at his parents' house so they can ALL have a peaceful evening and restful sleep. And since I'm online, she can't call me right now, either. Once I go offline, I'll unplug the friggin' phone. And God help her if she shows up here for a "confrontation", because thinking about those traumatized, sobbing children makes me want to slap her silly and then shake her 'till her teeth fall out, Bipolar or not.

What I've FINALLY come to understand is this: Granted, Carol has endured an immense amount of pain and has suffered mightily due to her history of abuse and resulting mental illness. But she also vociferously and adamantly denounces child abusers and those who fail to understand/tolerate mental illness. She is extremely intelligent and possesses many talents, but steadfastly fails to count those as blessings and squanders it all away. She unceasingly manipulates and uses all of us, is wholly unappreciative, and unendingly demonstrative of a mindset of unconditional entitlement to the innumerable kindnesses and supportive efforts of we who not only share her history and illness, but have abidingly rallied to her side in every way imaginable to help her toward recovery. She soundly condemns others for abusing their children, even as she traumatizes and abuses her own. She readily and regularly discerns, calls to task, rails against, and condemns others' neglect. crimes, and abuse in all forms. She loudly purports to be an Advocate for the victims of these crimes and wrongdoings... all the while insatiably devouring, like some huge, utterly void, perpetually vacuous black-hole, every bit of empathy, support, and goodwill so plentifully offered to her, persistently mewling for more... and subjecting her children to precisely (if not far, far worse) the same kind of neglect/abuse that she rants so vehemently against.

It's finally dawned on me that Carol is just plain addicted to the sympathy, attention, encouragement, and support of all kinds she richly receives from each of us, as well as its accompanying, implied consent/approval of her malignant narcissism and self-involvement to the exclusion of all others, inclusive of her own innocent and utterly helpless children. We are unintentionally providing her with and perfect avenue of escape from sincerely and honestly accepting any modicum of personal responsibility for any and every failure/shortcoming/obstacle she's unwilling to conquer or even halfheartedly attempt to get past in life. She pays an immense amount of lip service to 'doing the work' we ALL have to do every DAY in order to recover and heal, but never actually gets around to doing it. And the beat just goes on and on, because she's become a professional and perpetual victim, summarily blaming her failure in doing the work on her illness and childhood abuse... which, of course, she staunchly refuses to get past. Which, of course, means that the destructive cycle remains perpetually well-nourished ~ and therefore thrives ~ now devouring her own, equally innocent yet victimized children, as well. Yes, the work is HARD ~ sometimes emotionally backbreaking ... yes, it has to be done every damn DAY... and yes, it's not at all fair that some of us caught these particular breaks in life. But for crying out loud ~ no human being was EVER promised a rose garden in life, and I don't care HOW much horror and pain we've endured... there are countless of our fellow men who have fought and clawed their way through a hundred times worse.

No one can just "get over" the horrible wrongs that Carol and I and MULTITUDES of others have suffered in life... to expect that of anyone in such circumstances is an exercise in futility. But we CAN, each and every one of we "victims", 'grow a set' of sufficient size to make a committed, steadfast, unwavering effort to get PAST it all, even when razored shards persist in trying to rear their ugly heads in days to come... if for no other reason than the sake of our own children ~ who are NO more deserving of this kind of crap than we were at their age. If she does not want/choose/possess the wherewithal to slug her way past the past and onward toward recovery... then, like any addict who refuses that option, that is, indeed, her tire-spinning prerogative. But for the rest of us around her, there comes a time to cut bait and cease enabling her to wallow in suffering and self-pity while keeping the flames of her terrible past stoked to inferno levels. If she wants to ride this rocket until it crashes and burns and blows her off the face of the earth, it is finally evident to me that NO one can love, support, encourage, and/or rescue her enough to save her from that fate unless and/or until SHE decides to stop fueling the rocket's insane inertia. And after 30-some years, as of right now, she's still not even close to that point.

The time to cut bait and stop enabling her has now come for me... and, I sadly realize... should have come a long time ago for the sake of those poor kidlets. The fact of the matter is, regardless of the cards we're dealt in life, once we're adults it is no longer all about US ~ particularly when children are involved. At that point it's all ON us to see that those children do not suffer what we did/do. As every individual who's suffered child abuse and/or emotional/psychological illness and scars have often thought or said, we as children never asked to be born into a world of abuse/neglect/emotional and psychological fallout. Well, folks... our OWN children never asked for that, either.

She's an adult now, with children of her own. And she has a perfect right to live her life as she chooses (or chooses NOT) to.  BUT... that right certainly does not include traumatizing, abusing, neglecting, and putting her children through hell ~ and dooming them to the very same victimization and devastation in their lives that she so bitterly proclaims has ruined her own... all because SHE was abused as a child and suffers mental illness stemming from that abuse, and has zealously and obstinately opted to remain a victim of it in adulthood. And if she doesn't get a clue and put a swift and certain stop to it, I'm going to involve Children's Services and/or testify openly if and when their father seeks full custody. Enough is ENOUGH... and then some.