My Experience

My Grandma suffers from mental illness. She has schizo-effective disorder and border-line personality disorder.

During my childhood this did not factor into the relationship I had with my Grandma. We spent a lot of time together and she would read me story after story for hours on end. She made me cubby houses out of sheets which took up her entire living room and never once complained about the mess. We went walking together and she would spend her last few cents on sweets for me. Pretty standard Grandma behavior, I thought.

When I was small the other things were easy enough to accept or not really notice. The times when twittering birds outside her window drove her to tears, though I couldn't hear anything. She once had a 'noise competition' with the exhaust fan in the kitchen, telling me she was going to be the loudest. Sometimes I couldn't visit because Grandma wasn't well but soon she was back home and everything was okay again.

As I grew up I began to identify periods of wellness and un-wellness. By this stage, I understood that she was different but I didn't care. She was my Grandma and I loved her dearly.

The worst of her illness was kept from me when I was small but as I got older her condition began to fluctuate more rapidly.

My adult experience of having a mentally ill Grandmother includes being woken up by phone calls at midnight, listening to my Grandma sobbing. Being told the same thing over and over, repetitively, manically for hours on end. Trying to calm her when she becomes hysterical, irrational and abusive. Placating her paranoid conspiracy theories. Enduring the fear of her repeated suicide attempts and, sometimes unbearably, watching the most wonderful, loving woman suffer in total agony.

It's been hard at times. I've sometimes struggled to be patient through her episodes of mania and paranoia and my courage and endurance has been tested in periods of depression. I have really fought to remain calm at times, through the roller coaster of mental illness, but the depth of love we share has never changed. Never even fluctuated.

We have always had a close relationship. We share a love of books and reading, a passion for old-fashioned movies and other such things. I would not change a single moment because I adore my Grandma and I love and accept who she is.

These experiences, both good and bad, are the source of my greatest learning and I have my Grandma to thank for such precious gifts.

K