Finding wisdom

At the height of my son’s illness, he was psychotic and occasionally so anxious that he lashed out in harsh words and threats. He wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t sleep, and every day brought the very real possibility that the police might be involved in our lives before the night was over. He needed his medication, but he refused to take it, and no one seemed to be able to help. I had Zyprexa on hand for him, and knew it would help if he would take it, so I thought of ways I could convince him to do it. I learned pretty quickly that he absolutely wasn’t going to have anything to do with any medication.

And then I had a hard choice to make.

I could continue going on like we were and wait for the crisis to happen. Or I could crush his Zyprexa, hide it in a smoothie, and hope that it was enough to help him, even if it was just a minor improvement.

I debated over this choice for several days. I knew the Zyprexa was what he needed, but the thought of sneaking medication into him that he didn’t want to take willingly seemed wrong.

I didn’t know what to do.

I finally reasoned that, when he was a little boy, he didn’t have the ability to make a good choice about whether or not he should take medicine when he was sick. So I’d stir it into ice cream in order to get him to swallow it. I decided that this was no different. He was too sick to make a good choice about the medicine, so I proceeded to crush his Zyprexa and stir it into a smoothie. The first time I did this, I felt incredibly guilty - until about 20 minutes after he drank his smoothie, when he peacefully laid down on his bed and slept all night. It was the first night any of us had slept in weeks.

I knew then that I had made the right decision.

When dealing with mental illness, knowledge is so important. We need to know what causes the symptoms, and how the medication works, and what the best way to navigate the system is. We need to know the warning signs of impending crisis, and we need to know how to communicate in a way that doesn’t make things worse.

Knowledge is power.

But wisdom….wisdom is the ability to use our life experiences and our knowledge together to make strong decisions. Wisdom is knowing when to speak, and when to be quiet. It’s understanding the heart of the person you’re caring for, and holding space for them - even when they’re angry or hostile, sullen or tearful. Wisdom is knowing that patience is much more than a virtue - it’s everything.

And wisdom is knowing when to crush Zyprexa and hide it in a smoothie.

Sometimes I haven’t known what to do to help my son, in spite of knowing what’s wrong and what the options are. Many times with mental illness, we have to choose between two bad options. In those times when you don’t know what to say, or which direction to go, try to be still for a moment and find wisdom. Search for understanding - of the illness and of your loved one - and insight into why things are happening the way they are. Take time to find a solution that feels right to you.

You have the capacity to do this. So take a deep breath, consider your options, and trust the wisdom of your heart to make a choice. And if down the road you question that choice because you’ve gained more understanding, don’t beat yourself up. Rest easy in knowing that you made the best choice you knew how to make with the information you had at the moment.