Mom is not crazy

Suffering from borderline personality disorder, Amira Raanan was constantly in danger, yet her decision to go public with her illness may have saved her life.

Amira Raanan, her husband Michael, and their four children. (photo credit: Courtesy)
Amira Raanan, her husband Michael, and their four children.
(photo credit: Courtesy)
Michael Raanan, 46, knows the quickest route to the emergency room at Hadassah University Medical Center in Jerusalem’s Ein Kerem, as well as to its closed psychiatric ward. It’s a matter of life and death for his 39-year-old wife, Amira.
I met Amira more than 12 years ago when we moved to the community of Rosh Tzurim in Gush Etzion. Other than seeing her from time to time on the street, in the local grocery store, at the weekly Shabbat shiur (talk) that she sometimes delivers and at our home for a Shabbat meal, I didn’t know what lay below the surface of this extremely intelligent, artistic and creative woman.
Amira teaches Talmud to men at a local college, can quickly draw a mural on the wall and sew a Purim costume in no time flat, and she whipped up a parochet (cover for the Ark) and a covering for the synagogue’s podium when there was no budget to buy them.
The only inkling I had that something was amiss was that at times when I would greet her she would respond, and other times she wouldn’t. Even when she abruptly got up from our Shabbat table and said she had to go, I attributed it to her being nauseated due to being pregnant.
A few years ago, when I called my friend Esther to invite her and her family for a Rosh Hashana meal, she mentioned she always has the Raanans over for the meal on the first night of Rosh Hashana because Amira usually has a difficult time around the holiday; I thought this meant all the preparation was too much pressure for Amira. Yet Esther told me that in the past Amira had been hospitalized around this time. When I inquired as to the reason, Esther told me she didn’t really know what Amira’s specific issue was, but that Amira was open to talking about it and would welcome my overtures.
Esther was quite wrong. Shortly after our conversation, I dropped by the Raanans’ home. Amira was not interested in conversing about the subject of her health; she told me there were people in the community who helped her when needed.
Soon after that visit, a neighbor told me that Amira was not interested in talking about her health with me. I asked the neighbor what Amira’s difficulty was, and she was the one to inform me that Amira suffers from Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD).
PEOPLE SUFFERING from borderline personality disorder have extreme difficulties regulating their emotions. Common problems include anger, impulsiveness, chaotic relationships, unstable sense of self, suicidal thoughts and attempts, harming oneself, shame, fear of being abandoned and chronic feelings of emptiness.
BPD rarely stands alone; people suffering from it often have other diagnoses. Common co-occurring issues include eating disorders, bipolar disorder (manic depression), substance abuse, anxiety disorders as well as other personality disorders. More than half of the BPD population suffers from major depressive disorder.
Due to the fact that some people with severe BPD have brief psychotic episodes, experts originally thought of this illness as an atypical, or borderline, version of other mental disorders. Although mental health experts generally agree that the name Borderline Personality Disorder is misleading, a more accurate term does not yet exist.
Studies on twins who have BPD suggest that the illness is strongly inherited. Cultural or social factors may increase the risk for BPD; for example, one’s being part of a community or culture in which unstable family relationships are common may increase a person’s risk for the disorder.
There is no specific approved medication to treat BPD; people suffering from it are often prescribed medication to treat their symptoms.
BPD usually appears during the adolescent years, but Amira already sensed something was amiss at the age of five. “I remember sitting in kindergarten watching the parents come to pick up their children, and I thought to myself, ‘They’re so lucky that they’re already adults. They don’t have any worries in life.’” When she was in a high school with a dormitory, the teachers were not aware of her precarious situation.
She was an avid reader and happened to come upon a book meant for the faculty regarding how to spot a teen in need of help. Amira found she exhibited signs laid out in the book: she sat in the corner of the classroom, she closed herself off from everyone, she failed tests on purpose, etc.
Her indirect call for help was answered. She received much assistance from the staff, including having her skip from 9th to 11th grade, which helped her socially; her high school referred her to a local mental health clinic as well. After high school she started a year of national service, but understanding her particular issues, her former high school accepted her as a volunteer.
During her national service, one of her fellow volunteers mentioned the name Michael Raanan. That was the beginning of Amira’s “pursuit” of Michael, who is seven years her senior. On their second date, she took him to her therapist so Michael could learn about her mental state.
Amira experiences everything in full volume: life’s joyous occasions, challenges and fears. She can close herself off for three days in her room; this is considered a moderate reaction to an upset in her life. She has attempted suicide on numerous occasions by overdosing on medication.
Michael relates, “Once, during one of the most difficult periods, we sat together in a café and she suddenly took out pills and swallowed them all in one gulp. I felt relieved because I knew how to deal with it. When it gets to this step, everything is clear and I know what is about to happen: emergency room, washing the stomach of its contents, hospitalization.
“Sure, after that she will awaken and there will be a struggle – she will want to be released from all of the equipment and to leave. There will be a snafu. But during this time, at least I’ll know what to do in the next 24 hours – something I didn’t always know.”
Michael is very calm and quiet; one of the few times that I spoke to Amira in-depth, she confessed it drives her crazy that Michael doesn’t ever raise his voice. She calls him a tzaddik (righteous man). (His great-grandfather, the famed Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook, would have been proud of him.) Michael must be available 24/7. He works part-time as a carpenter a few minutes’ walk from home; he also works at the Merkaz Harav Yeshiva in Jerusalem. “I never know when I come home from work if I’ll need to go and order obituary notices,” he says resignedly.
Fortunately, the Raanans live in a small (200-family), close-knit and supportive community. Each weekday afternoon between the hours of 4 and 6, Amira goes to a family that has children the same age as her two youngest children – daughter Uri, 11, and son Sarig, five. She explains, “Knowing that I can get up and leave and someone will take care of my children makes it possible for me to stay.” When the need arises for meals, people in the community arrange for that as well.
Several years after my uncomfortable visit with Amira in her home, she decided to go public about her disorder. She started by having a community evening in which she spoke about her disorder. Friends and neighbors had the opportunity to ask questions, in an attempt to understand BPD and learn how they could help.
Her daughter Tzory, now 15, also spoke to her class about what it’s like to have a mother who has the disorder. The girls in the class asked questions and demonstrated interest and concern.
Following Amira’s disclosure, a number of people approached her about making a movie on her struggle; Amira discussed this with her therapist a number of times. Finally, during an extremely difficult period in which there were a number of suicide attempts, her therapist gave up and told the couple, “The last card in the deck is the proposal to make a movie. If this is what will keep you alive for another two, three years, yes, we’ll go for it.”
The director and producer of the film, titled Mom Is Not Crazy, is Rabbi Mordechai Vardi, spiritual leader of the Raanans’ community. Vardi is also the head of the screenplay writing tract, the beit midrash (study hall) and the Institute for Torah and Creativity at the Ma’aleh School of Television, Film and the Arts in the capital.
Despite the religious conflicts that arise in the movie, such as Amira’s need to play the piano, work on the computer and write in her journal on Shabbat, and her search to find halachic answers for people stricken with mental illness, Mom Is Not Crazy is not a film just for the religious. Vardi put his rabbi role to the side and gave the stage to Mordechai Vardi the producer.
His camera followed Amira for over two years. “I wanted the viewer to enter the world of Amira and experience things from her viewpoint,” he explains. For instance, the viewer is brought into Amira’s bedroom and “locked in” with her during a despairing time in her life.
Ever since her aliya from Australia as a little girl, Amira had not traveled outside Israel, and she felt a deep need to see part of the world. Vardi and his wife flew to Italy with Amira and her oldest daughter Tamah, now 18.
Scenes of their Italian trip feature in the movie; in one of them, Amira and Tamah try on colorful masks.
One can’t help but think how much courage it took for Amira to unmask parts of herself to her community and to the viewers.
In the past, the subject of death was almost taboo.
In our time, discussing death has become more acceptable, but it still can make people squirm and feel uncomfortable.
“That was the challenge,” says Vardi, “to look death in the eyes and to change it to the poetry of suffering.”
The film, which began as a therapeutic tool for Amira, became more than that. It can be a catalyst that causes viewers to rethink their ideas about mental illness, and can help promote inclusiveness for people who are challenged by their psychological disabilities.
When Amira is asked if she had the possibility to take a miracle pill that would cure her of BPD, would she do so, her answer totally surprises me. Despite all of the suffering the disorder causes her and her family, she feels it is also the source of her academic brilliance and her amazing artistic and creative abilities, and therefore she would not swallow the pill.
Readers may wonder how they can help the Raanans.
Vardi gave the rights to Mom Is Not Crazy to Amira, to generate some income for the family.
The movie, which is in Hebrew with English subtitles, has been shown in various localities. Following the showing, Amira, Michael and Vardi answer questions posed to them by viewers (Amira is a native English speaker and Vardi speaks English as well). To book: Amira (02) 993-8185 or 050-869-3216; Rabbi Mordechai Vardi 054-670-0704.
Michael Raanan, a wood craftsman, can be contacted at 050-869-3215. In fact, the beautiful rocking horse shown in the movie is his handiwork.
Sources: www.borderlinepersonalitydisorder.com
The National Institute of Mental Health, www.nimh.nih.gov