Her eyes are deep brown and at times sparkle and reflect joy and pure elation. Other days her eyes are dull and lifeless and appear to be sunken in with dark circles beneath. Many times we can tell her mental status just by looking at her eyes. We have all heard the notion that a person's eyes are a window to their soul. Yet there are days when I look into her eyes that I am scared and fearful of what I see.
She can bubble and sparkle and be giddy and silly and screech for joy, much to the chagrin of all nearby ears. Her laugh is loud and boisterous and at times forced as she feels it is the appropriate response in a given situation. Sometimes her ability to track social cues is skewed and those laughs come at inappropriate times. We have all had those moments of social faux pauxs, yet for her they are regular occurrences. If her mother or I are nearby we may flinch at the awkward moment and try to discreetly redirect her in hopes she will accept our direction and move on. There are times when she does not accept the direction and makes the moment harder for all involved. During her younger years it was easier for others to dismiss those moments. Now sadly that she is older and looks like a typical teenager and it is hard for people of overlook. She is a classic case of you cannot judge a book by it's cover.
The eyes at times can be sunken in and dull with no true reflection being offered in return. These are the moments when her entire countenance changes to reflect how her mental illness is affecting her in that moment. These eyes can rule her body for an hour or days at a time. Episodes of dark brooding and extreme paranoia. At times she will stop and freeze in place, no matter what she is doing, and stay like that for a minute or even five and if we notice it we try and break her out of it. She is not able to explain what happens to her during those interludes of lostness. I wonder if during those episodes if the voices of her illness are trying their hardest to take complete control of her. On these dark days I feel as if the voices and imaginary things no one else can see or hear are trying to stage a mutiny on her mind. She sleeps more during these dark times and I suspect she is exhausted from fighting those voices and visions from a complete take over. The constant fight that must wage in her brain must be exhausting and I admire her for fighting the good fight. I pray each day that her strength be renewed to continue the fight and to never completely give in and surrender.
During my moments of frustration and even righteous anger I struggle to remind myself not to be mad at my brown eyed girl, but to be angry at this insidious disease that is trying to overtake her. It is so hard to see beyond her face, which is lovely and beautiful, to see the monster that lies within and place blame where it belongs. Yet as a teenager she does have culpability at times. Herein lies the struggle as we try and distinguish if this a typical teenage reaction or is this a mental illness reaction. It can be a very hard distinction to make and at times we never truly know.
Which brings me to her sad eyes which are brimming with tears as she tries hard to hold them back. It is when I see these sad brown pools of tears that I know she is trying so hard to understand what she is supposed to do. These moments where she does not understand ours or others frustrations with her. When she thinks she is spot on in her responses and actions only to find out she is still off. The real girl inside wants so hard to please and be accepted and struggles daily to find ways to do that. The little rivers of frustration trail down her cheeks as she tries to explain to us that she is trying and does not understand. The moments when she is so overwhelmed with sadness and frustration over the situation she finds herself in and knows there is nothing she can do. It is during these times that I find myself the angriest, not at her, but at this stupid mental illness which has wreaked such havoc in her life.
I have also seen angry eyes which shoots darts of death and mayhem at me or who ever she is upset with in that moment. Interestingly enough I feel that these angry shooting eyes are combination of her true self and of her disease. I think the eyes and feelings associated with them originate with my daughter but are then intensified and overtaken by the disease to the point she can lose control. As the fiery darts are shooting from her eyes she is often yelling and screaming and sometimes even running after you to gain a physical hold of you. Honestly those moments scare me and I do not always know how to respond. My first goal is to keep everyone safe and to get the siblings out of the way as often times these moments are directed at them if not her mother and I. We have to think quickly as to how to deescalate her. We do not argue with her, but we encourage her use her words and we try to help her sort out truth from lies. Have their been times where she has done damage, well yes there have. Thankfully they have been far and few between. They have been as brief as 10-minutes to lasting a couple of hours. During these scenarios are when her mother and I tap in and tap out as needed. Sometimes we are both required to be a part of the intervention. When the siblings were younger it was harder to manage as they would get scared and need more reassurances. Now they have a sense of this being her illness and are able to separate without too much fear, but they do worry about their big sister and need reassurance once the episode is over.
As I have written this post I find myself thinking of my own eyes and what she sees in my eyes. It is my hope and prayer that she sees love, compassion, truth and understanding. Yet I know there are times when she sees frustration, anger, disillusionment, exhaustion and maybe even nothing at all at times. The days are long for my co-parent and I. Each day we look into her eyes and try to gauge what we are going to get that day. Some days are full of light and bubbles and other days are full of darts and fire.
All that being said, the eyes do tell a story. They are predictors of victory or defeat. The eyes are one of the keys to her well-being. What will she see in your eyes next time you encounter her or what will anyone see that you encounter throughout the day?
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