When my life was lost, my brain burned, and I lost a great deal of stress, it was my father who saved me. When I drank two or more bags of beer each night and smoked cocaine, my father flew from Hawaii to Chicago to guide my work and save my life.
Norm Bezane was the last father. A superstar father who is more about kindness than anything else. I was a kid when he quit his job to become a full -time “housekeeper,” as he wanted to be called. She was the one who cleaned the house, baked dinner, baked the chocolate cookies, drove us to and from school, helped with homework, and took me and my sister to swimming lessons. .
He was a kind, kind man who taught me and my sister to follow the golden rule, support peace, and respect all people.
My father rescued me from bipolar abyss when I was diagnosed in 2008. This past fall, I rescued him.
In the same company
Norm is a strong spirit who strives to achieve unity in everyday life. So am I.
We care about the words. In our 20 years, we’ve had hard and high -profile experiences in cutthroat media countries. I was a staff member for MTV News from 2001-2007. In 1965, my father was at Businessweek, and that summer after the civil rights demonstrations in Selma, Alabama, my father interviewed the Rev. Fr. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
We are writers. He wrote four books about Hawaiʻi, where he stayed with my mother. I wrote a memo about my mania, depression, and addiction in New York City, and my persistence and return to my hometown of Chicago, where I worked on drugs. hard on the streets with homeless people than my father saved me.
And in 2015, 7 years after I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, my dad found out he had the disease. This is after 50 years of living without the wrong awareness of depression.
It happened on a trip to visit Chicago 7 years ago when my father decided to see his first psychiatrist. He was frustrated with the Prozac he was taking. Now the doctor referred him to a doctor, who described him as “normal bipolar.”
There are 5.7 million people in the U.S. living with bipolar disorder, according to the National Institute of Mental Health. Bipolar disorder is a heart condition formerly known as manic depression. People with this disorder move between two thoughts, periods of depression and periods of great happiness, called mania, which are accompanied by intense thinking and sometimes psychosis, delusions. of grandeur, and hallucinations.
I got all of the above. Lithium is my magic bullet, and I haven’t had much manic or depression since I started in 2008. Thanks to my family, and especially to my father, I’m an alcoholic, stand still. for 10 years.
It is well established that bipolar disorder can be transmitted. Children with one parent with bipolar disorder are 10 to 15 percent more likely to develop the disease, and children with two parents have bipolar disorder 10 to 50 percent more likely.
I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder after a stroke while doing the live show “MTV’s Presidential Dialogue With John McCain” in the 2008 election. I was very sad but I couldn’t stand it. the fear, the anger, and the trembling of the palms gripped me. I was prescribed Prozac, but almost immediately in the air in mania, which can occur when bipolar disorder is taking an antidepressant without a mood stabilizer.
I was successful at work, publishing articles and videos. Instead, I made esoteric posts, increased my Facebook profile every 5 minutes, and went on a shopping trip with a $ 1,600 unredeemed Paul Smith in a pinstripe suit, a common symbol of the bipolar disorder.
My father’s illness was not too late; It is not known. At age 28, she experienced an anxiety disorder and found herself in a psychiatric ward. He did not remember the details, but at the time he was diagnosed with a terminal illness.
She lived with that depression for many years and was prescribed Prozac. He had bursts of hypomania, a simple form of complete mania, but, put into practice, most of it flew under the radar.
It may be a symptom of an undiagnosed illness. He clicked, talked, and walked very fast. He was banned from living in a seafood restaurant after arguing at a party to try to meet a famous artist. He was more into photography, preferring to use thematic photographs in a variety of colors. Workplace insanity goes hand in hand with bipolar disorder.
A Backyard Building
In my most stressful event, I cried every day, sometimes crying, sometimes hysterically. But my father left his simple life. He watched the movie intently, watching most of MSNBC.
Her doctor prescribed a litany of medications and they tried different combinations and dosages with no prescription. Nothing worked. Ketamine, an old party drug known by its street name Special K, is not used today as a remedy for depression.
Unable to keep her weight under control in the fall of 2021, she traveled with my mother to Chicago, where I live and better medical care to recommend electroconvulsive therapy, or ECT.
ECT is considered the last resort for depression. While not as painful as previous electroshock therapy, there are pulses of electricity that are delivered to the brain through electrodes that are specifically designed to stimulate seizures, which are known to be therapeutic. Patients are placed under anesthesia and given intensive care units to keep their bodies calm. They don’t get hurt and don’t remember the medicine.
My parents rented an apartment in downtown Chicago where my sister lived. I would fall on the couch almost every night, giving her happy love cards, balloons, Halloween costumes, or flowers in hopes of elevating her character.
He received 12 ECT treatments: three times a week for about one month at the University of Chicago Hospitals.
I went with him about half of them, and my mother covered the rest. My sister, who works in Chicago as a teacher, drives us to the hospital every morning. I was at his bedside before he was taken care of. And I was there after he recovered from the anesthesia.
My brother -in -law picked us up and took us back to the apartment, where I hung out with my dad every day, watching fun movies. I always reminded my father that the better things are, the better the care. However, he did not get better, even after ten seasons of ECT.
Doctors taught patience, which my own psychiatrist told me that ECT can take up to two months to begin with. They were right.
Wake up in the fall
In October, I returned to Maui with my post-ECT father. He was always depressed and his health was so bad from not working that I had to drive him to the airport in a wheelchair.
I stayed to help. I cooked dinner, walked the dog, washed the dishes, and drove my father to doctors and physical therapy to restore his damaged body.
And I saw him rise from the pit of hell. In December, the depression was over.
I was on Maui with my parents. My father had to walk outside the house, but his health remained stable.
It’s hard for someone who doesn’t have deep grief to love or think about the tragedy. But I know because I’m in trouble too. My paternal grandfather died in the murder at the age of 76, my father should not have shared the same. He was 84. He was alive. She was a winner and happy and independent. My father is happy again. And she appreciated it. I am also grateful.
Like son, like father.
Conor Bezane is the author of The Bipolar Addict: Drinking, Medicine, Delirium, & Why Sober is the New Cool, available on Amazon. He is a Chicago -based writer with bylines on MTV News, VICE, and AOL. He has always been a supporter of The Mighty.