Jo Vamos Honig - Tears of Sadness, Tears of Joy: One Couples Journey Through Love, Faith, and Mental Illness

Tears of Sadness
Tears of Joy

Tears of Sadness
Tears of Joy

One Couples Journey Through

Love, Faith, and Mental Illness

Jo Vamos Honig

White River Press

Amherst, Massachusetts

Copyright 2020 by Jo Vamos Honig

All rights reserved.

First published in 2020 by White River Press

PO Box 3561, Amherst, MA 01004 www.whiteriverpress.com

Cover and Book Design by Lufkin Graphic Designs

Norwich, Vermont www.lufkingraphics.com

Cover image from a 1960s view of Elkhart, Indiana, postcard from http://www.papergreat.com/2015_08_16_archive.html

ISBN: 978-1-887043-65-6 paperback

978-1-887043-66-3 ebook

Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations in this publication are taken from the New King James Version. Copyright 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture quotation marked Phillips is taken from The New Testament in Modern English, 1958, 1959, 1960, 1972, J. B. Phillips, and 1947, 1952, 1955, 1957, the Macmillan Company, New York. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Honig, Jo, 1937- author.

Title: Tears of sadness, tears of joy / Jo Honig.

Description: Amherst, Massachusetts : White River Press, 2020. |

Identifiers: LCCN 2019053481 (print) | LCCN 2019053482 (ebook) | ISBN 9781887043663 (ebook) | ISBN 9781887043656 (trade paperback) | ISBN 9781887043656q(trade paperback) | ISBN 9781887043663q(ebook)

Subjects: LCSH: Vamos, Bill--Mental health. | Honig, Jo, 1937- | Manic-depressive persons--Indiana--Biography. | Clergy--Indiana--Biography. | Husband and wife--Indiana.

Classification: LCC RC516.B5125 (ebook) | LCC RC516.B5125 H66 2020 (print) | DDC 616.89/50092 [B] --dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019053481

Dedication

To Bill Vamos, a man of strength and courage who never gave up and who taught me to live and love even when life hurts.

Authors Note

On his deathbed my husband, Bill Vamos, asked me to finish the manuscript he had started. He wanted the world to know that even being born with mental illness, one can lead a full, productive life. This book is an intermingling of our stories. Bill started the manuscript and I added details to his chapters as I imagined them to have happened. Some of the chapters are from his point of view, some from my own. The heart-wrenching description of his time in the hospital is solely his writing, based on his accurate recall.

Through it all, it was Bills faith that helped to sustain him. Although I lost Bill to cancer in 1994, through this book I am able to interweave our voices to tell the many stories of our life together. I have done my best to stay true to Bills voice, and also to his hope for this book: that it shows, through sharing his journey, how a life with mental illness can still be a life full of meaningful work, deep love, and enduring faith.

Prologue

Jo

December 1978

Elkhart, Indiana

M Y HAND TREMBLED as I gripped the doorknob of the hospital room. How could my husband have ended up here again?

After taking a deep breath to steel my nerves, I opened the door. A vague hint of daylight pushed through the steel bars stretched across the lone window, but it did little to dispel the darkness.

Bill lay curled up in the fetal position on a mattress on the floor, asleep. Though this was the fourth time Id seen him in a place like this, I still shuddered at the sight. I thought my heart would explode, leaving pieces of it scattered around the stark room.

There was nothing I could say that would reach him. So, I did the only thing I could think of. I laid myself directly on top of his sweat-soaked body. I whispered in his ear, reminding him how much I loved him and how much God loved him.

I lay there for a long time, silently crying out for God to hear me, to heal him, and to stop the madness. Why is this wonderful husband of mine in such pain? He crashed so hard this time. What has he done to deserve this? He was doing all the right things: taking his meds, exercising, journaling, and praying. I wondered what might have triggered this episode. Exhaustion, probably, with Christmas three weeks away, and all the programs and responsibilities at the church.

Or could I be at fault? For the past four weeks, as I prepared to sing a lead role in Handels Solomon, I needed constant reassurance from Bill. I was excited about singing with the Elkhart orchestra, but I wasnt sure I could do it well. Bill knew that if my performance wasnt flawless, I would berate myself mercilessly. And he had lovingly reassured me, time and again, that I was not a failure.

Id been so focused on myself lately, I failed to notice my husband was taking more sleeping pills than usual. Until I found him here, in the psych ward.

Chapter One

Bill

January 1953

Hanover, Indiana

S TEPHANIE G RANT , with her sweet Southern drawl, was the catch of the campus. And I, Bill Vamos, was deeply in love with her. What I loved most about this second-year sociology major at Hanover College was how much she loved me. Every Saturday night, wed slip into the most secluded booth at our favorite diner, the Hanover Campus Cabin, where we sipped chocolate milk shakes and necked until manager Mike Scroggins blinked the lights on and off. Whenever I sat in my classes, or worked at my campus laundry-and-trash-collection job, I would fall into a sort of stupor, just thinking about her model-like legs and her curvaceous body.

As I lay in my bunk, staring at the bottom of the cot above me, I recalled Stephanies luminous blue eyes and her golden hair glistening in the moonlight as I had slipped my fraternity ring on her finger earlier that evening. I had made my frat brothers rehearse for forty-five minutes, hoping their serenade would clinch the deal. It workedshe said yes! After I drove her home, my friends got their revenge by tying me to the front fender of my work truck and pushing it into the Ohio River. Soon after I hit the water they pulled it back to dry land. But, sewage and all, I felt like Id won the lottery that night. It was only later that I paid for that smelly ride in the Ohio River, when soon after, my sinuses exploded.

I had wondered sometimes if my fraternity brothers were envious of me, thinking I had it all. Little did they know I envied them. They knew nothing of the inner demons that constantly threatened to overwhelm me.

I rolled over in my bunk bed and wrapped the thin pillow around my head, trying to drown out the sound of my fraternity brothers snoring and heavy breathing. Seconds after they fell into bed, they all slipped into delicious slumber. I was lucky if I slept at all.

Some of my friends werent as smart as I was. Most drank too much. One of them had shacked up with every loose woman on campus. But Id trade my life with any one of them in an instant.

My nerves kept me awake, like an army of needles marching inside me, sticking my stomach, arms, and chest, all at the same time. I repeatedly told myself to relax. But that only intensified the attack. I tried to picture something pleasant: Michigan, Northern pike, Moms coffee cake, my beautiful Stephanie. Nothing helped.

To make matters worse, the sinusitis Id battled my entire adult life ballooned my face and clamped my eyelids almost shut. Pain exploded in every cavity of my head.

I needed help. But none of my friends could do anything for me. When morning finally came, I climbed out of bed, then just stood there by my bunk, mentally paralyzed. When my roommates realized something was seriously wrong, my buddy Bob Delany drove me to my parents home in Cincinnati.