Mental Illness @ MindSay

Last night I stayed up late reading through most of the old entries in my utterances blog. It really affected me. It made me really sad and angry. I was going through a really rough time during the two or three months I kept that blog. Reading them back now, two years later, I do feel really distant from that person I was. At the same time, I feel like I haven't really moved on that much at all. Some of the entries really struck me as what I know now to be typical schizophrenia symptoms. It made me really sad and angry that no-one else picked up on that. I saw a lot of doctors and psychiatrists, and none of them even really suggested it. In some ways I wish I had have known from way back then. I have struggled so harshly for the last two years with mental illness. If I'd have known why right from the start.. it wouldn't have been as bad. I know I have had a hard time accepting the diagnosis I was given back in January, but in some ways I am glad. At least there is some kind of explanation, there are some answers. I still don't fully understand it myself, and I'm not sure I ever will. Just as I don't think I will ever fully accept it. But reading those entries from two years ago, seeing just how low I was, how dangerously close to the edge- it sort of scared me. I have a habit of always forgetting just how bad things do get, as soon as I'm feeling a little better. I suppose it's a kind of defence mechanism. Even from as recent as May, I can't remember feeling as low as my journal entries prove me to have felt.

 

I know that in some ways I have grown in those two years. I've learned some important lessons, and I hope I am able to say that I am not the same person anymore. I think I have a better sense of belonging, who I am and what is and isn't important. I hope so, anyway.

 

And as for this entry.. http://utterances.mindsay.com/a_letter_from_nicky.mws . Wow. I'd completely forgotten about that. I think it made me cry much more than the first time I read it. Needless to say I went straight to curl up beside my husband and remind him just how much I love him.

Finally I'm able to just sit and let the words roll again...

This picks up from March 29ths posting.....

Backing up_

I met James(my husband now,then boyfriend!) when I was 15 and in the 10th grade. In those days, High school was split up into 2 years each,9-10 and 11-12, each at seperate places. It was the tail end of 10th grade and I was able to miss my last clas of the day because I was traveling on an activity bus to my Sr high school to try out for "Dancing Boots". There was a period of about 2 weeks where each afternoon I went to the Sr. high to try out. I made the team. More on this later....  Anyway, I decided to keep skippping my last class of the day which was, History! I made A's in there anyway...  I went and hung out on my bus instead. My bus driver was really cute and we had struck up being friends. Several bus drivers hung out on his bus while waiting for classes to let out, and we had a good time kidding around. At the time, I was dating James' best friend.I hadn't met James yet...  Anyway, it's late May, early June of 1979... The then boyfriend was becoming a pain...trying to ditch me.. He shows up at my house one afternoon to break a date with me and lo and behold, James is in the backseat of his car. He(the boyfriend) had several friends with him.  The boyfriend and I argued a bit, then James decided to say something... My very first words to him were" Why don't you just shut-up and mind your own business!" Well, great beginning huh? LOL- anyway the jerk and I broke up and then James started hanging out on my bus with the other drivers. He was a bus driver too. We picked on each other and kinda got to know one another.James was 2 years older than me and he was getting ready to graduate high school. Then James calls me one evening and asks me out. Our first date was June 15th,1979.  We went to see"Rocky 2" and then went to Hardees to eat. We went out just about every day after that first date. All summer long we went to tons of movies(they only cost us about $5.00 for the 2 of us to go!) and hung out. On July 10th, James gave me a promise ring. that was the thing back then. He said he had never met anyone like me and he was in love with me and I was "it", the ONE he'd been searching for. I felt the same way.  We talked for hours on the phone at night, usually my dad ran me off the phone at 2 in the morning! LOL Those were the days of one phone houses, and rotary phones! Ha!  We talked about nothing in particular, and just basically had fun. I turned 16 on July 12th and tried to have a sweet 16 party but it was planned for outside and it rained that day and evening, so there went my party, BUT James stuck by me all day and he took me out that night instead. One of the best birthdays I can remember! I started Sr high in the fall, and I quit the Dance team! Told ya I'd tell ya later about it... I wanted to be with James all the time so I quit! No regrets here! Anyway, we had  good year as we grew closer and closer. then I started my Sr. year. it's now mid 1980. Senior year was  a blast! Too much fun! Then Nov- Dec 1980 rolls around. James shows me these house plans that he drew up when he was younger and asks me if I llike them. I said I did. They were of a split- foyer with a full basement. Typical for that generation. I didn't think much of it.  Then James takes me to a wooded lot and says"This is where we are gonna build our house"    I'm thinking, Ok he's planning for down the road. We proceed to rope off an area in the woods to the size of a house.   next thing I know within the week, he has people out there digging out a basement and cutting down trees.....  Hummmm..... Anyway, James,his brother, and his dad all had two weeks off at Christmas... So they start building a house on top of the basement which has been blocked already...... the house gets framed out totally during those 2 weeks.... Now I can say that James took me for granted! LOL builing a house and I hadnt even said YES yet! LOL then Christmas Eve arrives and James is at my house for the evening. We steal some time alone in the living room.. he gives me this big box to open.... I open it and pull out a stuffed Panda Bear that is holding a fish velcroed to his paws. On the fish is a note. I open the note and it says in big letters"This is It! Will you marry me?"   I looked at him in surprise and he asks me, on his knees."Will You Marry Me,Tracee? I love you with all my heart."  I of course start crying and say "YES!"  Now I'm just 17 years old still at this point and still in high school, but I didnt care!  I had wanted to be a wife and mom since a little girl. I didnt care to go off to college.  I wanted a family to love! He slipped a ring on my finger and we kissed!   so we go to the den where my family is gathered and make our little announcement. Dad was a bit shocked, but he knew the day had been drawing near.... They gave us their blessing, but said I had to wait til  I graduated and til after I was 18. they weren't going to sign for me to get married because they didnt want me to come to them if the marriage didnt work and say you let me do this thing!  it was to be totally me!  more on this later!  

 Anyway, we got their blessings. now meanwhile, I had been going to church with James for a long time. I grew up in the Episcopal church, and my family didn't attend regularly. I believed in GOD, but I didn't KNOW GOD... I was basically a GOOD person... well, James was Baptist, and I had been hearing some things that I questioned him about alot. James was talking to me a lot and having me read verses. Well, on a Sunday night on Feb.8th 1981, I was with James at  his church for a revival meeting. James Ellis was the speaker. he preached Hell and Brimstone that night, but not in a condescending way... he explained things that were clear as a bell to me that night. my eyes and my heart were opened. Later that evening after lots of my questions to  my James in my living room at home, I accepted Christ as my Personal Saviour!  I was so giddy with happiness! my heart was overflowing... It does us good to remember the time and place we met the Master...   James was very happy too.  he had been working on me for a long time, and even though he had asked me to marry him knowing I wasn't saved, he had hope. he knew he was risking alot too. Believers should never yoke with unbelievers. the Bible tells us. His family had told him he shouldn't get involved with me, but when they heard that I got saved that night, they accepted me whole heartedly.   only thing was, I couldn't tell my dad about what I had done. Dad had a way of twisting things around and he would argue someone blue in the face, that there is no hell. so I kept this from my family for the time being. I knew God would let me know when the time was right  For Valentines day that following week, James gave me a scofield Bible, which I still carry and use to this day. that was a very loving present..   The months came on by and in late May of '81 we finished the house. it was ready.   I was busy planning my wedding and getting ready to graduate high school. Now is where I need to say that I did alot of the planning myself, bymyself. i didnt have my mother to turn to in this. She was there, but not really there. She is manic-depressive or bi-polar as the term better is known now. Since I was 11 she had been in and out of mental hospitals. I saw bizzarre behaviour during those yeaars and I had to grow up quick. I came home from school and took care of my younger brother. I got home before he did. I cleaned and cooked, and washed,etc... My brother is 6 years younger than me, and I hid him from a lot of what was going on.   anyway, It came down to the week before the wedding which by the way we planned for July 18th 1981. Dont think I mentioned that before now!  Those days you had to have your marriage license ahead of time. Well, guess what, the week before the 18th was the 12th which was my 18th birthday, and I had to carry my mom with me downtown for the license and SHE had to sign! we had to go on the 11th to get it, and being I wasn't 18 yet(just by a day!) and she had to sign! She was ticked!  anyway, got through that then the wedding. (At the end of May I graduated!) 

 

 

fast forward through those first years now...... Lots of things happened to us along the way, a son in 1988 and a daughter in 1991, along with the typical ups and downs of a marriage. It takes TWO. You both have to give and take in a marriage. IT CANNOT BE ONESIDED!!!  yes, we were young, and a lot of our friends said it wouldn't last, but it has, and it's almost 27 years strong....and going.....

anyway, some things happened in 1993 that werent good financially. So, my parents gave up their little apartment and moved in with us..... For 8 years they lived with us and got us back on our feet. During those years, Was when GOD opened the door and showed me how to witness to my dad. he was still stubborn... So I didnt talk, I SHOWED him Christian love... And he knew there was something differnet..... he saw it and felt it....  To this day though, I'm not sure about my Dad. I Lost him in March of 2007. I was able to be by his bedside alone with him and I was able to pour my heart out to him then. they always say the hearing is the last to go.... he was in a coma, and I have hope he heard me.... I cling to my hope everyday... I pray I see my dad again in Heaven one day... I do have a bit of peace about it. the Lord has given me that, but I dont know the truth about dad... as I said, I have hope....

 

 

There's still alot of blank spaces I could write and fill in, maybe one day I will. My moms battle still goes on. As she ages, it seems to get worse. That is a story in itself. All the horrors of a mental illness that I witnessed as a young girl, as an adult. They are too painful to write about. I still have humps to overcome with this myself. it took a long time to just understand that my mother wasn't doing those things on purpose, that she didnt know and couldn't control it. it took a long time to forgive..... mental illness hurts.. it hurts those who love you the most.... but she is my mother and I love her... sometimes its all I can do....

There are so many questions weighing on my mind and heart.  I wish I could ask my mother for answers, but I know her answers would fail me.  It's obvious to me that she is as broken as the rest of my family. I don't understand what has happened to us.  So many times I think I see a reason or cause of my family's pain.  Then it escapes me yet again as I realize that the problems we face could not have been caused by any one thing.

I'm hurt and confused.  I'm angry and sad.  Just when I think I have control of my heart something comes along to remind me of the heartbreak I can't seem to escape.  It could be a song, a picture, or simply seeing a mother and daughter walking together that brings me right back to total despair.  There are nights I wake up in tears brought on by dreams of days gone by.  The worst dreams of all are the ones where death becomes the final barrier.  The loss of all hope.

My daughter is gone from my life.  It kills me to know that although she is gone, she is still here.  She is hidden away beneath a stranger that has consumed the child I once knew.  How hard it is to live with knowing the person you love with all your heart is in danger and there is nothing that can be done by you to save them.  Over and over again I am told the only thing to do is simply let go, let be.  That she will heal or be forever changed by the nature of her disease.  There is nothing I can do to change the life she is leading or to prevent the harm she faces.

So I grieve. 

There is a pattern to the grieving process, and it is normal to move forward and backward through each stage.  Generally, one can expect the pain to ease as time passes by because there will be an end.  For me, there is no end.  There is no closure.  The pain is there each and every day.  Reality never provides hope for a better outcome, or even a change in the current state of our lives and wellness.  What little of wellness is left in my family.

I don't understand what has happened.  I don't understand the reactions of my loved ones.  Why do I still cry and grieve without ceasing?  Why don't my sons or husband feel the same way?  One of our family is gone, in danger, and not being protected or helped.  Doesn't this bother them?  Why not?

I don't understand how they can be so quick to simply move on with their lives.  I don't understand how they can be angry with me for wanting my daughter back in our lives?  She is my sons' only sister, my husband's only daughter.  Don't they realize that a part of who we are is missing? 

They tell me they don't feel safe with the idea of her coming home or even being in their lives.  I can understand their not feeling safe with her immediate return, but what if she is given the help she needs?  What if we are all helped to move beyond the lies she has told and work toward being the family we should have been?  The family we could have been before mental illness stole my daughter's ability to cope with the pressures we faced?

I understand her father being angry.  He was jailed for a crime he never committed.  He was betrayed, as were we all, because we trusted our daughter without fail. She was our "good girl", the one who listens to our advice and makes good choices.  Even when she made a wrong choice, she came to us for help and advice.  We never saw the malice brewing inside her heart and mind.  A malice brought on by mental illness we failed to see in time.

Our sons report a different side of her.  A side of her shown in her writings.  A side I never saw until I read the journals she brought to me almost a year ago.  Journals I read over and over again trying to learn where things went wrong.  When my daughter became ill.  What I might have done to protect her from herself.  Questions to which answers never arrive.

I've learned of an "angel" named Chris who would yell at her and tell her she was so bad.  Then there is Renee', "the obedient one", a creature I still don't quite understand.  Of course, there are the persona's she allowed us all to see. All identified by variations of her first or middle name. Nicknames really, just nicknames.  I thought she was merely trying to discover who she was, who she will be, as is normal for teens and young adults.  I was so wrong.

I never realized that we were seeing different people within my daughter.  I never knew such a break from reality could be so strong in a person who seemed to be so very much on the right track in life.

How little I knew then.  How much there is that I must still learn.

The questions I have are many and all of them painful.  The most painful of these come about as I try to understand how my family can be so separated from one another.  There is a fine line between love and hate.  Neither is an emotion to fear.  The one emotion that shows a total break between two people is indifference.  This one emotion I witness in both of my boys and my husband.  They are indifferent toward my daughter.  They don't love or hate her.  They simply hate what she has done.

I don't understand how they can feel such indifference?  I keep thinking that I must have done something wrong!  How can people who are loved so much fail to find love within themselves for someone who is a part of them?  I don't understand.  I don't think I ever will understand.

I miss my daughter so much that I wish death would take me.  I beg God to either return my daughter to me or let me go to sleep and never awake to this pain again.  I know He hears all of my prayers, but I am not hearing His answer.  I can't live like this.  I can't deal with so much pain.  He doesn't seem to be doing anything to restore my daughter to me so why can't he just let me go?

Don't tell me that I can't leave because my sons and husband still need me.  They are happier now than I have seen them in years.  Their happiness is only dimmed once in a while.  When my grief and pain breaks through and disrupts their day.  Then, the only emotion they show is anger.  Anger with me for not letting go of my daughter.  They have, and want to know why I can't.

I want to know why my family, my children, my blood... why are they able to feel so little for one another? 

My family is broken, and the breaks go far beyond the five of us.  There is no wise elder within my family to turn to for advice or answers.  Therapists don't seem to do anything more than offer sympathy and a shared inability to understand the situation in my family.  Although I know God hears my questions, I can't hear His answers.  My friends don't have answers and pull away to avoid my pain.  I am consumed by grief.  Unable to move forward, I have been left behind.

I miss my daughter, but she doesn't miss me.  

We live in a time where anti-depressants are prescribed off the wall, political correctness runs rampant, and teenage killings are frequent. Why? It's simple, the powers that be are oversensitizing not only the youth, but the whole population.

 

My mother grew up poor in the projects, and was raised almost soley by her mother. Many of her friends were in the same situation, or their parents were divorced, or they were plain unfit and they had to raise themselves and their siblings. The ones that did have parents got a whipping when they did something wrong. All of them turned out fine.

Today if a child is under the same circumstances, they are put on meds, or may kill themselves. If you spank your child, you could get arrested for abuse, it is encouraged for kids to call the police or Child Protective Services if they get hit.

Yes some kids have it rough, but never before has it ever had such a drastic effect. The sad thing is, most kids DON'T have it that rough, especially people I know. Most kids don't have to worry about the kind of things our parents and grandparents had to worry about, yet they are more weak and fragile then ever.

 

In my school district there are so many different support & counseling groups. There is now Teen Screen. If you've never heard of it, it's a voluntary thing where they evaluate you for mental illness. They are inventing disorders in order to place you on a medication. They are trying to make you think that if you are experiencing any sort of difficulty in your life, that there is something wrong with you and you need help. Someone calling you a bad name or rejecting you is now grounds to cut yourself, throw up your food, or become clinically depressed. It was not always like this. People are offended by things like "Merry Christmas" or the word "God" in the pledge of allegiance. I'm agnostic and I don't even care!

 

Young kids and teenagers complain and walk around like they have the worst life ever. You would think they were 45 rather then 15. Everything is so dramatized and major. Happiness is taboo. There is no reason a teenager should be miserable all the time. Kids used to go to WAR, and today's youth fall apart because their boyfriend or girlfriend dumped them, or their parents got a divorce. This behavior is being endorsed. Let's tell these kids that they are depressed and make them think they should take offense to everything. Yeah, that's a way to strengthen the nation. Why wasn't "depression" so prevalent until now? In the past when kids were bullied, they grew up and strived for greatness, beauty, whatever they got made fun of for, and rubbed in the faces of those who picked on them. Today if a kid is bullied, he may bring a gun to school and blow them away. By making every little bump in the road a huge deal, we are weakening the population.

 

If this continues, our generation stands no chance. If we can't deal with the ups and downs of life without medication, how will we procreate? How will we evolve? If we try to make this pretty little world where we must consider whether or not it offends someone, how can we still have freedom of speech? The sensitivity push is damaging to American society. Life is not all sugar and rainbows, there will always be hard times. Instead of encouraging youth to tough it out and make the best of it, we are telling them to give up. Some give up by going to a psychiatrist, others by suicide. Psychiatrists are for people with REAL problems, people with schizophrenia, bi-polar, rapists and the raped, pedophiles and their victims, murderers, the abused and assaulted. You are not sick because you had a bad day, or even a bad week. There is nothing wrong with being sad when someone rejects you or ridicules you. But these common events should not cut so deep that it impedes your progress in life. It is unhealthy.

 

We just don't know when to learn from past mistakes and change, and when to apply "If it aint broke don't fix it." This is a case of the latter. We have been enduring the same problems for years, and our adults have turned out alright. People didn't tie a rope around their necks when times got hard. Let us not stop social evolution.