Shatterdays: Bipolar Lives

By Dr. Frank Shanty

Shatterdays: Bipolar Lives is a riveting account of two young girls in their formative years of life, one grappling with deep depression, paranoia & hopelessness and the other selflessly trying to help her. This story is about love, relationships, and human endurance.

Susan suffered from bipolar type I with psychotic symptoms. During a manic episode, Susan became psychotic, difficult to control and dangerous to herself and others. Susan spent her teenage years taking an array of psychotropic medications and confined to psychiatric wards and other restrictive environments, achieving minimal success. Her mother Patricia's greatest fear was that her daughter would remain institutionalized for much of her life. Following Patricia's death, Melanie's dedication to Susan is intermingled with mixed emotions and self-doubts and fosters a sense of intimacy which creates in the reader a desire to want to reach out and help her.

Susan’s story needs telling because it personifies the experiences of many ordinary families whose loved one suffers from a crippling mental disorder. Family intervention at the onset of symptoms, years of advocacy and a lifelong commitment to the local community mental health center, defined Susan’s success.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dr. Frank Shanty
• Release date: May 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9780999801628

Book preview

Shatterdays

By Dr. Frank Shanty and Melanie Shanty

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2018 by Dr. Frank Shanty and Melanie Shanty

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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E-book design by Jovana Shirley (www.unforeseenediting.com)

Published by FCP Press, P.O. Box 1502, Bel Air, MD 21014

ISBN-10: 0-9998016-0-0

ISBN-13: 978-0-9998016-0-4

CONTENTS

Copyright © 2018 by Dr. Frank Shanty and Melanie Shanty

Matthew 25:45

Dedication

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

FOREWORD

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

AFTERWORD

REFERENCES

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

And he will answer, ‘I tell you the truth, when you refused to help the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were refusing to help me.

Matthew 25:45

New Living Translation Bible 2006

We dedicate this book to Patricia Roberts Barnold and James O. Roberts, now deceased, whose courage and determination in the face of impossible circumstances allowed their daughter Susan to live a purposeful life despite her illness. May you live in God’s peace for eternity.

This story, based on factual events, represents the viewpoint

of Frank and Melanie Shanty. Out of respect for Melanie’s siblings

and their own unique experiences, we do not speak for them.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This story, based on personal experiences, comprises hundreds of hours of conversation with my wife, Melanie Shanty, and discussions with my sister-in-law, Susan Caltrider, several family members and key people in the mental health community in Baltimore, Maryland, who knew Susan and worked with her over the years.

This effort required an abundance of hard work and assistance from a number of qualified people for a satisfactory completion. We owe a debt of gratitude to Larry Alessi, M.D., Mahmood Jahromi, M.D. and Gene Popiolek, LCPC for reviewing the manuscript and providing timely feedback. We also extend our gratitude to the mental health professionals who cared for Susan during the many years she suffered from this debilitating illness.

Larry Alessi, M.D., Linda Franz, LCSW and the folks at Meyer 3, Johns Hopkins Hospital deserve special mention for their steadfastness in caring for my sister especially in the period following the January 2011 fire, which led to her premature death in October of that year.

Our thanks and prayers go to Mark Falkenhan, who died while rescuing the residents of Susan’s apartment building, his family and the members of the Baltimore County Fire Department who risked their lives that evening to protect their fellow citizens.

We also extend special thanks to author Tom Zoellner and Mary Ellen Bates of St. Margaret Parish in Bel Air, Maryland for their advice and support at various stages of the project. On a personal note, I extend my heartfelt thanks to my good friend Monsignor Michael Schleupner of St. Margaret Parish for officiating at Susan’s funeral and giving a homily that belongs on the Top Shelf of inspirational writings.

We thank the team that helped put this publication in print. In this regard, a number of people deserve special mention: Jim Thomsen for handling the copy editing tasks and Craig Lancaster for proofreading, typesetting the manuscript, and creating the cover.

We acknowledge Jason, Paul, and Amy, Susan’s siblings who grew up with and loved her only as siblings can. No doubt each of them have their own personal stories to impart based on their individual reflections.

Frank Shanty

Melanie Shanty

FOREWORD

Prior to 1970 one prevailing theory about the cause of major mental illness postulated that it resulted, in part, from an overprotective or schizophrenogenic mother who impeded the child’s ego development and reality testing ability from early childhood. This line of thinking expanded to the inclusion of the entire family—the dysfunctional family—as the cause of serious mental illness in the child. As families began to speak out against these unfounded and detrimental theories, what became clear was that major mental illness in a child is profoundly distressing to the family as well as to the child. Far from being the cause of mental illness, dedicated and energetic family support has emerged as a key factor in the successful treatment of those with major mental illness.

I met Susan and her mother in 1976 when she was 22 years old and had been hospitalized almost continuously since the age of 16. She had been diagnosed with schizophrenia and treated with Thorazine and had not been doing well. Six years into her illness, Susan was brought by her mother to the Harford-Belair Community Mental Health Center and it finally became apparent that Susan was not suffering from schizophrenia but rather from bipolar disorder, which has a much better prognosis if treated properly with mood stabilizers.

Nonetheless, as will become clear from her sister Melanie’s story, the role of the family in successful treatment continues to be crucial. But it is not an easy journey for either the family or the child. Knowing how and where to find help that really helps is often difficult. The burdens on families can be great, and the task can be exhausting at times, but the results can be most rewarding and priceless. As Melanie attests, she was my favorite person to be with and I received way more than I gave.

This moving story also demonstrates the strengths and potentials of persons with mental illness as, with the help of family support and encouragement, they learn to cope with their illness, hold their hopes high, live productive lives, establish relationships, and support others who are less fortunate.

Larry Alessi, MD

INTRODUCTION

After Susan’s death, the decision to write this book stemmed from subsequent discussions with several mental-health professionals and with my wife, Melanie, who provided care for her sister for thirteen years following the passing of their mother, Patricia. Several days after Susan’s funeral, I spoke to Linda Franz, a social worker, who worked with Susan for many years. She told me:

After Pat died, Melanie’s love for her sister was the game-changer. If you took Melanie out of the equation, Susan could have ended up on the street, a victim of violence or confined for a large part of her life. Melanie enabled Susan to have a life. The actions she took after the death of her mother serve as a great paradigm for the mentally ill. Despite Susan’s severe and chronic mental illness, Melanie took steps to ensure that her sister could live on her own with her husband and have a fulfilling life.

In those first days after Susan’s death, Melanie spoke about her relationship with her sister: I learned a lot from my sister. Susan taught me about the healing power of laughter. Occasionally, I socialize with my high-school friends and share humorous stories about Susan’s life. I always leave these events in high spirits. Melanie added: I learned about commitment, whether to a person or ideal, from my sister. Caring for Susan taught me how to cope and adapt to other unforeseen circumstances.

This story is a first-hand account into the world of bipolar disorder. It depicts Susan Caltrider’s forty-two-year struggle with a debilitating mental illness and the efforts of her mother, Patricia, and sister, Melanie, to provide advocacy and care while maintaining their own responsibilities to careers, to self and to family. This story is about love, relationships, and human endurance.

In January 2011, a fire destroyed Susan’s apartment building and took the life of a Baltimore County firefighter. Susan suffered third-degree burns over 35 percent of her body. While she recovered from her injuries at Johns Hopkins Hospital Burn Unit in Baltimore, I visited my sister-in-law several times.

Due to the severity of her injuries, Susan had temporarily lost her ability to speak, and communicated with a pen and notebook. During a May visit, Susan asked for a copy of my recently published book. When I entered her room on my next visit, she leaned toward me and smiled.

I handed her the book. She turned a few pages, she grabbed her notebook and pen, and scribbled a few barely legible words in large childlike letters.

Will you write a book for me?

What’s the topic, Susan? I asked.

Me.

I gave her a slight grin, and, at a loss for words, changed the subject. As I drove home later that day, I reflected on the time and effort a project of that magnitude would entail. I considered her request interesting, but impractical.

About five months after that visit—and four weeks before her hoped-for release from the assisted-living facility where she had been recovering—Susan died. On the evening of her sister’s funeral, an emotional Melanie looked at me tearfully and asked me to write a book about Susan’s lifelong battle with bipolar disorder.

These pages will provide the reader with an understanding of bipolar disorder and a fresh perspective on the importance of family in the recovery process. Readers will hopefully benefit from learning about Susan’s decades-long battle with bipolar disorder and her family’s undaunted commitment to her recovery.

The four-decade ordeal of Susan and her family is not uncommon. In the United States, millions of Americans, across the spectrums of race, sex, age, or socioeconomic status, suffer from mental illness. Their symptoms can disrupt entire communities. We have a moral obligation to help the mentally ill. They require the same concern given to people suffering from physical disabilities or illnesses. But many people view mental illness with unfounded fear.

As a result, not everyone gets the treatment they need. They often don’t know that help exists. They don’t have the financial resources to get care. Or they refuse treatment due to the stigma associated with mental illness.

The authors’ objectives are threefold:

To vividly portray one woman’s lifelong battle with chronic mental illness.

To describe the journey that two people traveled in their quest to provide answers to the complex questions surrounding mental illness.

To illustrate how family intervention at onset and continued hands-on involvement in this woman’s life led to her recovery and enhanced her self-worth and quality of life.

Throughout this journey, we gained multi-generational insight into the problems of three families. We learned that a family history of mental illness is a red flag. Patricia and Melanie were determined to make a difference in Susan’s life because history told them that the cost of inaction was too high. These women received far more than they gave over their forty-two-year struggle.

This narrative sends a powerful message: love, perseverance, and an unwavering commitment to equality are powerful human attributes, capable of changing lives. The actions of Patricia and Melanie culminated in a successful, lifelong treatment protocol for Susan and provided her the tools she needed to live an independent life.

We hope that mental illness may one day receive the same degree of care afforded cancer and heart disease.

In so far as the mind is stronger than the body, so are the ills contracted by the mind more severe than those contracted by the body.

Cicero (106 B.C.-43 B.C.), Roman author and philosopher

CHAPTER 1

Onset of Illness: Living a Nightmare

What’s your sister doing down there?

Several minutes passed before Mom, frustrated by the ear-splitting and repetitious noise, opened the basement door adjoining our kitchen.

Susan, please lower the volume … Susan! Mom turned to me. Melanie, go downstairs and tell her to lower the volume or turn it off.

I descended the basement steps and saw Susan twisting and jerking. They were popular teen dance styles in 1970. Her arms flailing and clothes wet from dripping sweat, she moved in a frenzy from one end of the carpeted basement floor to the other. Ignoring my presence, she continued dancing and singing with her imaginary partner.

I gave her a slight smile and walked toward the phonograph, on a bench next to our old red piano. Susan remained fixated on her dancing. I lowered the volume and walked up the steps. After returning to the kitchen, Susan re-upped the volume. Irritated, Mom shut the basement door to reduce the noise. She didn’t know what to make of Susan’s uncharacteristic behavior.

Susan was a pretty girl with a thin build, shoulder-length blonde hair, blue eyes, a clear complexion and beautiful smile. A quiet, reserved girl throughout her fourteen years, Susan had a pleasant personality, strong maternal instincts and a mild-mannered disposition. Unlike many emergent teens, Susan was the textbook definition of an ideal child. She didn’t bend to her peers when it came to fads and drug use. Unlike her siblings and most of our friends, Susan looked forward to school. She loved everything about it.

Most girls in the 1970s wore miniskirts with boots, bright clothing adorned with geometric designs, stripes, plaids and polka dots—the brighter the better. Many girls teased and colored their straight or poufy hair. Liberal amounts of hairspray kept it in place. This mod look made young teenage girls look older. At thirteen, Susan had more of a 1950s look. She dressed conservatively, her clothes pressed. And unlike many girls of her time, she wore a bra.

Before her illness, Susan’s mood swings were predictable and consistent with her surroundings and circumstances. So her present elevated mood puzzled us, particularly our mother. But the thought of psychiatric illness had not entered her mind. Early that evening, following several hours of nonstop dancing and singing, Mom questioned how she could maintain such intense physical activity.

Although unlikely, the thought of her daughter taking a hallucinogenic drug appeared possible. Mom adopted a wait-and-see attitude. Little did we know that Susan’s benign activity that weekend signaled the beginning of years of riskier and more dangerous behavior.

Our family lived in an end-of-row house, in a middle-class neighborhood, in northeast Baltimore. English ivy climbed the front and side of the red brick walls. Flowers and shrubbery framed the front of our house and a white picket fence enclosed our yard. During the summer months, a large oak tree shaded the side of the house; providing respite from the heat. Our home had three bedrooms, living room, dining room, kitchen and a paneled carpeted basement converted into a kids’ playroom. The basement door led to the fenced back yard. Before our father installed a lock on the fence gate, Susan frequently used it to wander the neighborhood.

It was an unpretentious yet attractive home, and I enjoyed it.

My parents had a tough time providing for our family and coping with the normal stress of raising five young children. Susan was fourteen when she became ill; I was thirteen; Amy, eleven; my brother Jason had just turned ten; and my youngest brother, Paul, was four.

Following the birth of Paul in 1966, finances became tighter and increased the anxiety in our home. Anguish over money also created problems in my parents’ relationship. Two stressed-out adults with four kids running through the house and a newborn infant created an atmosphere of uneasiness, especially when Dad drank. During his drinking bouts, Mom had to improvise ways to pay the mounting monthly expenses, adding to the already tense atmosphere.

Though both parents worked, we lived prudently. Much of our money went to everyday necessities. My sisters and I owned few casual or dress clothes, and wore uniforms to school. Clothing usually passed from sister to sister. Some were hand-me-downs from our cousin Lisa. She and her parents lived in an affluent section of Baltimore. Lisa’s mother bought her the latest teenage fashions. When her daughter outgrew them, she gave them to my mother for my sisters and me to wear. We were thrilled at the prospect of flaunting our trendy attire around our friends.

Since Lisa and Susan wore the same size, Mom let her wear the hand-me-downs first. Occasionally, Susan shared them with me, an unselfish and risky act for a young girl. Accidents happen. I often returned the clothes stained or torn, and in worse condition. When I returned a piece of her clothing in less than pristine condition, she became upset, but always forgave me.

Susan, as the oldest child, had a heightened sense of responsibility. Knowing that our parents had a tough time making ends meet, she helped them care for her younger siblings. I tried to maintain her big sister status after she became ill because it had become part of her identity over the years and in some ways defined her.

Susan demanded little attention and caused few problems for our parents. However, she held her own views about right and wrong and didn’t hesitate to speak her mind. Susan and Dad often argued. In her heart, Susan didn’t believe that Dad loved her. To get his attention, she often challenged him by questioning his behavior and discipline methods, making their strained relationship worse.

For example, one day Susan confronted Dad regarding his intolerance with her.

Dad, why are you angry with me?

I’m not angry with you, Susan.

Then why do you always yell at me?

I yell at you when you don’t do what you are told.

You yell at me all the time. I can never make you happy.

Noticing anger welling up in him, Susan, noticeably upset, walked away.

When Dad became angry with Susan, he purposely avoided her and refused to speak to her. Susan was pragmatic and refused to kiss up to him. The wedge between Dad and Susan began early and got worse. Because he had a tough time relating to women, Dad alienated himself from his first child. Susan desperately needed to feel loved by him, but he was incapable of providing it. Dad and Susan never experienced a normal father-daughter relationship. None of us shared a close relationship with him.

Dad treated Susan and my younger brother Jason especially hard. His expectations of his oldest son were high. Too high. When Jason turned nine, he joined the Cub Scouts. Each year Jason’s Cub pack held an event designed to engage fathers in their sons’ Scouting activities. During his second year, Jason signed up for the Pinewood Derby, a boxcar race. Cub Scout regulations required each participant to build a box racecar. Dad taught woodworking in school and volunteered to help Jason construct a car.

My brother looked forward to working with Dad, apart from the rest of the family. The project began on a positive note. Dad drew a sketch of the car and drafted a blueprint, outlining the design and detailing each step of the construction process. Jason and Dad worked on the car every weekend for two months. Meticulous in detail, Dad mitered each piece to fit. After constructing the car, they devoted an entire weekend to sanding the wood, and painting and applying racing stripes and decals.

Upon completion, they covered the car with a tarp to protect the paint. My brother, convinced that he would prevail and win the first-prize trophy, counted the days until the race.

On the morning of the race, Dad installed the wheels. Sadly, he also was drinking that morning. A few minutes into the race, the front wheels of Jason’s car spun off the axle. My brother was mortified. I recall the stunned look on his face as he sat on the track, motionless, dismayed and humiliated, watching the other cars pass. Although the Scout leader tried to console him by saying, These things happen sometimes, Jason. It was a good effort, Jason didn’t buy it.

Dad had waited until the last minute to put the wheels on the car, and installed them incorrectly, because he had been drinking. Mom became furious. Just like Jim. Work hard and long preparing for a major event in his son’s life and screw it up by drinking, she ranted.

Dad apologized, but didn’t attribute the mishap to drinking. But Jason heard Mom’s remarks.

He began to associate Dad’s often-bizarre behavior with alcohol. Jason’s anger toward Dad took the form of aloofness. Then sadness. I believe that this event damaged their relationship and instilled a sense of inadequacy in my brother.

The knockout punch in their relationship came several years later, during Jason’s first year of high school. My brother tried out for and made the junior-varsity football team. The prospect of watching his son play high-school football thrilled my father. Sadly, Jason neglected his schoolwork and his grades plummeted. The school dropped him from the team. When Dad found out, he confronted Jason. With a stern look, he said: You have disappointed me and let me down. You could have been a great football player and a good student at that school.

Jason listened quietly and withdrew further inside himself. The following year Jason transferred to another school, but failed to maintain passing grades. He dropped out of school in his senior year and left home. He later earned a GED. I believe that these remarks haunt my brother to this day.

Dad had many unresolved emotional issues, which made it difficult for him to voice his feelings or show affection. Sometimes he appeared distant and inattentive. Dad had little patience, often becoming irritated with Mom, Susan,