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Sep. 23rd, 2003 01:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
urocyonLast night, we finally heard from my mom's cousin (and good friend) in Elizabeth City, NC, which was directly in the hurricane's path. We were really starting to worry, not being able to get through earlier. She'd apparently planned to come up here, but waited too late (arguing about the best course of action, naturally). Her family turned out to be pretty lucky; they only lost part of their roof and a few trees. The next street over was hit much harder. Her business wasn't badly damaged, but will have to stay closed until the lights are back on. The last she'd heard, power was still expected to be out for at least two weeks longer, but she is better off than most, between having a gas stove and their next-door neighbor's offer to let them hook the refrigerator to his generator. Needless to say, we were relieved to find out they're OK, though we still haven't been able to track down some of Sid's family in Kill Devil Hills.
Hearing from her got me thinking about my cousin, her son, again. He's just a month older than I am, and we used to be close friends. Nothing to do with any sense of family obligation; he was simply delightful to be around. (Not to mention constantly thinking of things to get into--always popular with other hyper kids.) Now I have trouble deciding whether I'd rather give him a good smack or strap him in a chair and force-feed him lithium. Perhaps both.
It isn't that I'm insensitive to his problems--and does the boy ever have some problems. I recognise very well that most of his maddening behavior over at least the past fifteen years has been the result of untreated bipolar disorder. From dropping out of school (despite everyone's best efforts to find out what was going on and prevent this), to likely self-medicating with every substance known to man, to having trouble staying in a job, to showing poor sense in his love life--all of this is pretty classic. Stupid behavior, and frustrating to the people around him, but classic.
It makes me upset to see a good person who is, if anything, brighter than I am go on like that, messing up his life. Refusing to see that there might be something wrong, making him so unhappy--something treatable, at that. I didn't get the impression that his mother's finally being diagnosed made him think, and he's resisted any help that wasn't court-ordered. Is he going to continue on his not-so-merry way, racking up DUI arrests and almost getting other people's cars seized over petty possession, impulsively getting involved in relationships that quickly go sour, and all the rest? I hope not, but if some of this stuff hasn't made him wake up by now, chances of sudden revelation don't look so great. The quantity of time and energy he must put into feeling like a general failure is staggering, but he seems to want to continue it.
I've considered it, but don't think that my feeling are stronger due to any "there but for the grace" effect. I do, perhaps, get a bit more worked up because, even before I got proper treatment, I managed to avoid anything near that degree of impulsive behavior and wooly thinking--on some level, I probably do feel like he could and should do better. (Unfair, and less than useful.)
One of the main things that frustrates me, and has for years, is that I don't see anything I can do to help. I tried having a little talk with him, and he wouldn't/couldn't take in what I was saying; I gave up as he was edging into hostility. What else can I do? Not a hell of a lot, and it hurts. It's hard for me to accept that I just can't fix some situations, particularly when I really care about the people involved.
Hearing from her got me thinking about my cousin, her son, again. He's just a month older than I am, and we used to be close friends. Nothing to do with any sense of family obligation; he was simply delightful to be around. (Not to mention constantly thinking of things to get into--always popular with other hyper kids.) Now I have trouble deciding whether I'd rather give him a good smack or strap him in a chair and force-feed him lithium. Perhaps both.
It isn't that I'm insensitive to his problems--and does the boy ever have some problems. I recognise very well that most of his maddening behavior over at least the past fifteen years has been the result of untreated bipolar disorder. From dropping out of school (despite everyone's best efforts to find out what was going on and prevent this), to likely self-medicating with every substance known to man, to having trouble staying in a job, to showing poor sense in his love life--all of this is pretty classic. Stupid behavior, and frustrating to the people around him, but classic.
It makes me upset to see a good person who is, if anything, brighter than I am go on like that, messing up his life. Refusing to see that there might be something wrong, making him so unhappy--something treatable, at that. I didn't get the impression that his mother's finally being diagnosed made him think, and he's resisted any help that wasn't court-ordered. Is he going to continue on his not-so-merry way, racking up DUI arrests and almost getting other people's cars seized over petty possession, impulsively getting involved in relationships that quickly go sour, and all the rest? I hope not, but if some of this stuff hasn't made him wake up by now, chances of sudden revelation don't look so great. The quantity of time and energy he must put into feeling like a general failure is staggering, but he seems to want to continue it.
I've considered it, but don't think that my feeling are stronger due to any "there but for the grace" effect. I do, perhaps, get a bit more worked up because, even before I got proper treatment, I managed to avoid anything near that degree of impulsive behavior and wooly thinking--on some level, I probably do feel like he could and should do better. (Unfair, and less than useful.)
One of the main things that frustrates me, and has for years, is that I don't see anything I can do to help. I tried having a little talk with him, and he wouldn't/couldn't take in what I was saying; I gave up as he was edging into hostility. What else can I do? Not a hell of a lot, and it hurts. It's hard for me to accept that I just can't fix some situations, particularly when I really care about the people involved.
