Several questions:
I am interested in what others have to share about their thoughts and experiences.
Have you ever had you heart broken by someone (not figuratively of course) or something?
Yes. By my then-15-year-old's son's descent into psychosis
How did you deal with it?
At first I was paralyzed with indecision, confusion and grief, but finally got him hospitalized, which was the first step on his road to recovery.
What did you learn from it?
To listen to my intuition and to act on it.
Are you willing to share you experience of it?
Shortly after the events of 9/11/2001, my son stopped leaving his room, except under cover of darkness at night, and wouldn't allow anyone else to enter it. He refused to go to school. He stopped showering, brushing his teeth or hair and his only sustenance was Coke taken from the 'fridge on his nightly forays. In those nightmarish times I worked at night, writing at my computer and once I started leaving the lights in the living room off, he would risk sitting beside me in the dim lght of the computer screen. He would ramble incoherently for hours. I knew something was terribly wrong, but I didn't know what. I felt the son I had given birth to and raised for 15 years had disappeared; he was gone as completely as if he had died. I felt utterly helpless to do anything to help him or even reach him. The boy I knew was gone and I mourned his loss, though mourning wasn't very effective in dealing with what was happening.
He'd been diagnosed with bipolar disorder at age 8, but this wasn't bipolar disorder. I called his psychiatrist, who agreed his behavior didn't match the symptoms of bipolar disorder, my son's "parity" diagnosis, and basically washed his hands of the matter. If I couldn't get the boy out of his room, there was no way to get him on a bus for two hours for the ride to see his shrink anyway.
Finally I stumbled upon a listserv of women who were mothers of children with serious mental illnesses and when I described my experience with my son, one of them was kind enough to call and recommend a psychiatrist. In talking to this new psychiatrist, she said she thought my son needed to be hospitalized, which is what my "gut" had been telling me for a long time. With new direction and purpose, I made plans to have my son admitted to a nearby hospital with an excellent adolescent psychiatric unit. After a very dramatic night during which my plans fell apart and his psychosis worsened, he was finaly admitted to the hospital.
Did having your heart broken changed the way that you felt about people or pain?
It changed my perception of having to deal with pain all on my own without help. I learned that even complete strangers can--and will--unexpectedly render invaluable aid. Perhaps most importantly, I learned not to lose hope in the face of apparent hopelessness and that there is healing even in the worst pain, that pain is the crucible that shapes us. Finally, I would say that every important thing I've learned in life has come from pain, not joy. That doesn't mean I can't embrace joy or beauty, but it is pain from which I learn. Although my son has made great strides in recovery, the boy I knew before the onset of his illness has never reappeared and there are still times I wonder what he might have been had he not become ill, but I this I know: I would never have had the chance to love and admire the man he is today, shaped by his own crucible; and I wouldn't have missed that chance for the world.
Did it change you? For the better or for worse?
I now am more willing to listen and act on my intuition. I am less likely to fear pain or grief because I know that is where life's lessons lay. Instead of dreading the next catastrophe, the next loss, I try to face each day, each moment for what it offers. I keep my heart open, allowing myself to feel, unencumbered by my fear of loss. And that, I think, is a good thing.
