LithiumSea

2009-03-11T12:06:00.000-07:00

The Long and Winding Road

2009-03-11T11:19:00.000-07:00

I know it's been a long time since I last posted - over two years in fact and for those of you who have continued to check in - I Thank You. This post is, hopefully, the beginning of my road back. A bit of an update - David is still living in Columbus, but is no longer in college - he was dismissed for failure to meet academic standards. This past two years have been hard - on all of us. We lost two beloved grandparents last year. I have been separated from my husband for a year - our divorce should be final in April. I believe that the divorce may have played a role in David's increased anxiety and reluctance to go out in public. David's sister, Elizabeth lived with him for over year and what I thought would be a helpful situation soon turned into a war zone. She is also, I believe, bipolar, though she has never been diagnosed. She took off before finishing high school and is now dealing with struggles that in ways go beyond David's. The two siblings clashed at every turn and called me at every twist, till some days I would turn off my phone to get away from the constant stress. But Elizabeth did finally move out and their relationship has improved. Last weekend my boyfriend and I went up to David's and did a complete overhaul of his apartment, even shampooing the carpets. I was hoping that the positive change would boost David's motivation, which has been rather low lately. Alas the best intentions ... For a lot of the time we were there David was agitated, trying to pick an argument - by the time Saturday evening rolled around we were exhausted and fed up so we packed up and came home. Of course then I worried for two days about the effect our leaving early might have on David. He seemed a bit upset - but now OK. He's started back on his seroquel which he had been skipping - I hope that will help with his agitation. But he needs to find something to do - take classes online - start a blog - something constructive. He is going on the 21st to spend some time in Florida with his uncle - I hope that this might change his attitude a bit. On a sad note - the dog who was always David's loyal companion after his illness got hit by a car and killed yesterday. He was eleven and a half years old and will be sorely missed by all in the family.

#37 Justice is Not Blind

2007-11-29T08:46:00.000-08:00

I would begin this post with an apology and a promise to write more, but at this point I am again living day to day, sometimes hour by hour so I will only say that my intentions are to write more. Since my last post so much have happened that I really don't know where to begin. This may need to be a multi-part post.

I begin then with my struggles with the justice system, though I have come to doubt the appropriateness of that title. Blaine went to court twice for his OVI. The first was just a pretrial, the second he pleaded guilty after waiting in court five hours for his public defender to make an appearance, and got a sentence of three days in jail, a program put on by MADD, a fine, and mandatory attendance of a drivers intervention program. We slowly checked off each thing on the list. The program put on by MADD only lasted a couple of hours and David actually seemed to take some good points away from it. The three days in jail went smoother than I would have imagined, but then we came to a brick wall. Blaine had a severe anxiety about the OVI school. He explained that in jail he didn't have to introduce himself or talk to anyone, but in the drivers intervention program he would be in a spotlight. We signed him up for a weekend in the summer. On the way he had a panic attack, sick at his stomach, clammy hand, etc. and backed out. Then we had to go meet his probation officer. The deadline was past for his attendance to the program so we had to go into court again and wait a couple of hours to get an extension; otherwise he would have a warrant on him. The judge gave him a month to complete the program. That is when the nightmare really began.

I worked feverishly to get him back into the same program he had been scheduled for in the summer, but their requirements had changed. I had to drive the two hours to get paperwork, then have it notarized, then drive back up a few days later to take Blaine to the hotel. He was a nervous wreck - that week he had cut his arm again and was just terribly agitated - I didn't want to make him go - but I knew I had to. I dropped him at the hotel and then started home. I was across town when he called to say he was not on the list and that they wouldn't let him in. I was furious - I had spoken with this people repeatedly, filled out all the paperwork, faxed it in on time! I was also frightened - would this send David into a tailspin? I left him in the car and stomped into the hotel demanding to speak to whoever was in charge. After repeating my tale to three different people, I finally was taken to the woman in charge - the one I had e-mailed and spoken to on the phone. By then I was almost crying - she didn't understand - David was mentally ill - he was on edge - she didn't know what effort it had taken to get him there in the first place - she just mumbled excuses - she was running two offices - short staffed - misplaced paper work. I didn't even respond - just left - I didn't trust what I might say.

David became even more pessimistic - sure he was going to go to jail - was going to fail college. His next probation meeting was on the day of one of his midterms. I called the probation officer probably at least twenty five times in the week and a half before his meeting explaining that David needed to go to his midterm - surely she could reschedule - David e-mailed her - she never responded. I told David to go to his midterm - I expected to finally get a message about a rescheduled meeting.

Meanwhile I got David into a different program down home - the day I dropped him off I was thrilled - finally we could mark this hurdle off. The next evening I got a call - David had a gran mal seizure and had been unconscious for ten minutes. Rushing to the hospital I just felt as if in a dream - how could this be? He had one fever seizure when he was little - but that was it - what more was going to be thrown at this poor boy? When I arrived he was alert, but scared - he had a bruise on his forehead and carpet burns on one side of his face. All the tests came back normal, except his potassium which was low. They gave him Klonopin to raise the seizure threshold and sent him home with an appointment for an EEG and told us to go see his regular doctor.

Luckily the woman running the drivers intervention was very understanding and David was able to return the next morning. So in the end he was able to get the program completed - but the relief I expected was replaced with a new worry.

We have seen the family doctor - he continued the Klonopin - which I'm not sure is great - and gave him a referral to a neurologist at OSU - we are still awaiting the results of the EEG. On top of all this and the running back and forth to Columbus - the probation officer finally left a voicemail on David's phone that suggested he had been a no show at his last meeting and must make the next or she would schedule a court date for breaking his probation. David told me it was the 28th and saved it so we could check the time. He spent Thanksgiving weekend with us and while here lost his phone. When I got his replacement Tuesday the 27th and checked his voicemail so I would know when to head for Columbus The next day - I found that the appointment had actually been on the 27th - he had missed it!

I can't even describe my reaction - I felt like I was in the middle of a hail storm and the hail was getting larger and larger, pounding me towards the ground. What was I to do? Had they issued a warrant? What would David do when I told him? Give up? Fail to go to his finals next week? Worse? I immediately began to call the probation officer - but as before she did not answer and did not call back. Finally after a sleepless night, I decided to try to reach her supervisor - he answered! I explained everything - David's illness - his anxiety - that I was the one that took care of his appointments and such - I asked if David could be switched to a probation officer who dealt with the mentally ill or at the very least if his current probation officer would at least call me to let me know what was going on and if she could schedule a new meeting. He took my number and promised to have her call - that was two days ago - and guess what? she still has not called - we are back on hold - living with the worry - not good for me or David. I have read before about families of the mentally ill dealing with a "blind" criminal justice system - but now I see how difficult this can be. Considering the number of mentally ill who end up having some run in with the law - there has to be a better way for families to communicate with the system that seems to fail to understand the magnitude of our loved ones problems. To Be Cont.

Dailies #17

2007-06-17T07:26:00.000-07:00

Wow, what can I say - sorry again that it has been so long. Not long after my last post - April 13th to be exact - a Friday 13th, Blaine called me agitated and sounding rather desperate. He said he was on his way home. I could tell by his voice that he had been drinking and I tried to persuade him to go back to his apartment, but to no avail. He insisted he was coming home. I spent the night in anxious anticipation of what I would face when he arrived, and then worry and fear when he didn't arrive. By mid morning I knew that something was wrong. After calling around I finally found him in jail. He had been arrested for OVI; I was able to drive up and bail him out, but I couldn't bail him out of the situation.

Since then life has been more of a roller coaster than usual. After his arrest he seemed to really settle down - I found out that he had failed to take his medicine for a few days before the incident and he promised he had learned his lesson and would take his medicine regularly. He put his mind into his studies and I really thought he might end up with an A and a couple of B's. But then depression hit again. He didn't go to school for two weeks and cut himself again.

We managed to get him back on track in time for finals and he managed to scrape by with passing grades. I spent days on edge and had to drive up sometimes twice a week. Now we face the consequences of his OVI. He went to court on the 26th and was sentenced to three days in jail, which he does this weekend, DUI school, and probation for two years, which will probably include mandatory counseling.

All I can say is

Years go by and days on end
And still I can't recall -
How I could smile with carefree joy
In that photo on the wall

You are there as well
Changeable eyes - this day blue
Grasping my hand
Half smiling at the camera

Where are those days of joy?
They slipped slowly out of sight
Still I hold your hand
And weep and hope and fight

Thought this article might be of interest.

ABC News: New Antidepressant Warning May Scare Patients From Needed Treatment

Dailies #16

2007-04-02T16:30:00.000-07:00

Wow, when I logged in I couldn't believe how long it has been since the last post. I apologize to all who keep up with our story. My only excuse is that life intruded - but I will do my best to post more often. Since its been so long I have quite an update. Not long after my last post David had an appointment with the new Psychiatrist and the appointment seemed to go fairly well. He went in alone at first and then I was able to join him. The only thing that disturbed me was new details that David shared. He admitted that he thought people talked about him when he walked on campus. He even went so far as to say he heard them talking about him, but that he was able to tell himself that this truly couldn't be the case. Then he went on to describe how lately he had started having the feeling that someone was watching him when he was alone in his apartment. He felt that someone or something was going "to get me." The Psychiatrist appeared duly concerned about the paranoia and about his anxiety in class. Before I left for home I filled his prescriptions and filled his weekly containers, but he insisted on keeping the new anxiety medicine, clonipin with him. "Mom I'm fine. I will only take it when I need it." I hated arguing this point. After all, he is nineteen and needs to become more responsible for his own medicine, so I relented, also keeping in mind that the dose was low so I didn't think even the whole prescription could be deadly. Oh what mistakes we make. Over the next two days I only talked to him twice and he seemed to be rather spacey and then his speech was slurred. I sent my brother down; he checked on him, thought he had taken more than he was supposed to, but wasn't in any danger. The second evening he called me, his voice was not only slurred, but was filled with that pain I have come to know so well. I tried desperately to keep him on the phone while I motioned my daughter to call her uncle and send him over immediately. David kept saying that nothing really mattered. I told him his sister might be driving up to see him - he replied that she would be too late and hung up. Of course by this time I was panicking - we couldn't reach my brother - should I start to the car? But two hours, if he was harming himself I would be too late - should I call the police? - if I did he might lose his lease and if I was wrong that would be devastating to him - I tried my mom and thank the heavens she was driving, only a half an hour away from David. As she drove she called my brother again and reached him - he rushed down to find that David had consumed too much of the clonipin and had cut his wrist, but not deep enough to have been a suicide attempt. Mom got there and accessed the situation - he hadn't taken enough to be deadly - the cut was minor - he said he had done it to "relieve the pain" so he wouldn't kill himself. Mom talked to him awhile and got him something to eat; My brother and girlfriend stayed with him till my daughter got there to stay the night and we continued to trade off for the next few days.

Things have gotten much better since then - David's moods stabilized after a couple of days and we arranged for an old friend from school - whom we trust - to stay with him for awhile - the only major trial afterwards has been getting his winter quarter finished up - on top of everything he came down with a bad case of the flu a week later - so he ended up missing almost two weeks of class - but spring has sprung and I always attempt to remain hopeful - he has his next psychiatrist appointment this Friday so I'm going with him, to make sure David speaks about the episode and to make sure I take his medicine home with me.

Dailies #15

2007-02-14T11:11:00.000-08:00

Sorry it has been so long since I checked in - between the weather, stomach flu, work and travel to visit David, this last month has passed in a wind swept fog. David is doing better than he was over the holidays - after Christmas I could tell that he was still struggling - holing up in his apartment and showing little interest in doing much else - I tried to visit at least once a week -sometimes twice a week - but things slowly improved - he started back to class the first week of January and just having some reason to get up, dressed, and out the door seemed to work miracles. He has had some problems sleeping and we have upped his seroquel to 100mg. I finally got him into a psyciatrist at OSU - the appointment is the 27th - so I am hopeful that this will turn out to be someone he can call when he is experiencing changes in symtoms. On a different note - I have been accepted into a Phd program from Walden University in clinical psychology - though I will have to attend a couple of residencies a year and complete a year long internship locally towards the end of the program, most of the courses I will complete online which will give me greater flexibility - a bonus I don't have to emphasize is crucial in caring for David.

Also in the last two weeks I have been wading through The Noonday Demon - though this description might suggest a boring read, this book is in fact a thought provoking look at depression. The author weaves the painful experience of his own illness through a comprehensive discussion of depression as a medical, philisophical, social, and political issue. The book is slow reading due to the depth of discussion, but is well worth the effort. The author does not shy away from controversial topics, such as his own homosexuality and his views on suicide as an option when someone is in a terminal or hopeless condition. Though I did not agree with all of his ehical conclusions, I was intriqued by the questions he raises, particularly about the relation between personal identity and mental illness, and about the idea that depression is possibly an evolutionary positive trait.

#36 cont.

2007-01-14T07:17:00.000-08:00

Christmas Eve was another late night - I again vigilantly watched David until I was sure he was asleep - so to say I was tired Christmas morning would be an understatement - but thankfully David awoke calmer and seemed more relaxed than he had been since he arrived - I fixed roasted chicken and rosemary potatoes for dinner because I know he doesn't like ham - after speaking with my mom and mother-in-law we decided to fore go our usual routine of everyone coming back out for dinner - we thought David didn't need any more stimulation and chaos.
We spent the day quietly watching South Park for hours - David had received two new seasons for Christmas - usually the show would grate on my nerves - but this day I was happy to curl up on the couch and watch episode after episode with David who seemed to be using the show as a means to get back his equilibrium - everything went great till evening when one of David's so called friends called - I heard him say that he didn't want to do anything tonight - that he just wanted to spend time with the family - but his friend wouldn't let it go - by the time he got off the phone he had plans to go out - he assured me "just for a little bit" - I worried - but then I reasoned that since he seemed so good today maybe a trip out wouldn't be so bad - of course I was wrong -
I walked over to the neighbors for a while to wish them Merry Christmas and to keep my mind off David - We only stayed for a couple of hours - but by the time we returned David was a mess - he had arrived home just before us and I don't know what he had done or how many drinks he had, but he was lying smack dab on the kitchen floor mumbling senseless things - his "friends" had just left him there - the next two hours I spent helping him onto the couch and trying to keep him under control - he began wandering around the house knocking into things, falling down - he shed his clothes piece by piece - his jeans in the kitchen - a shirt in the living room - he was buck naked by the time he wandered down and tried to go to bed in his old bed - now his younger brother's - needless to say his younger brother made a quick escape to the couch and left David to his old bed.
Up early I called my mom and told her the situation - I knew then that I had to get him back home that day - before something terrible happened - I couldn't tell him he couldn't go out with his friends without precipitating a fight - which could send him in Lord knows what direction - but I could not go through another night like the previous one. So I packed up all his clean laundry, presents, and cat and woke him up a half an hour before my mom was to arrive - still confused he wandered around the house in his boxers - he mumbled "what if I don't want to go?" - I acted as if I didn't hear him and kept bustling around getting him ready - unfortunately he could only find one shoe and one flip flop so he was in quite a state when Mom arrived - his hair uncombed and unwashed - the same stained shirt from the day before and one sandal and one shoe - in a rush I packed his stuff - put the cat carrier with the protesting cat in the back seat and gave him a long hug "I love you son" - then he was gone -
I walked straight to the bedroom, locked the door and lay on the bed to cry for an hour - I missed his physical presence so bad - I felt awful for pushing him out the door - deep down I knew I had done the right thing but that didn't help the memory of the look on his face that seemed to say "you don't want me"

Dailies #14

2007-01-07T11:57:00.000-08:00

For those waiting for the rest of my Christmas tale - it will be forthcoming - but today I just wanted to comment on a book that has helped me get though this season - though not new - it was new to me and gave me some insight into the larger national view of the mental health issue in the country - which let me look outside of my own troubles

This book is written with those whose family member suffers from mental illness in mind, but it is much more than an advice manual. Rosalynn Carter has been an advocate for mental health issues for decades. Her book discusses the problems facing not only individuals and their families, but also the challenges we face as a country as we try to alleviate mental illness, not only in our own communities, but worldwide. Carter inspires hope, at the same time as she urges action for those concerned with the issue. After briefing the reader on the history of mental health policy, she looks towards the future and the many things that still need to be done in prevention, awareness, research, and advocacy. This book was a pleasant read and gives those of us in the midst of personal struggles a vision of a larger community.

#36 cont.

2007-01-06T08:41:00.000-08:00

I couldn't sleep the night before Christmas Eve - images of last year kept playing in my mind - the 911 call - the struggle with David as they fought to get him into the ambulance - the surreal trip to the hospital - I just could not sleep till David was safe and sound asleep and in his nervous state that didn't arrive till 4:00 am. And so Christmas Eve began in a fog and with a prayer - so far - so good - just please help us through this day.
The first grandmother's went surprisingly well - David interacted with the family in what I have come to recognize as falsely cheery talk - many in the family took his cheer for reality and gave me quick hugs for congratulations that things were going well - I, however knew too much to let the illusion comfort me into a lull in my vigilance. My nerves began to feel like stretched rubber bands inside and I fought to hide my anxiety behind smiles and murmured small talk.
The second grandmother's was when I began to see the signs that the day was wearing on David - he still smiled obediently and opened his gifts - but I saw the furtive glances around the room and the agitation that was growing in his eyes - my instincts were confirmed when I heard him ask his sister in a whisper - "where are we"? Elizabeth glanced at me to see if I had heard ,then answered bravely "We're at Grandma G's for Christmas" - "Oh, yes, of course"he answered - "these holiday things are just getting me confused." David spent most of the rest of the time outside "getting some air."
Finally at home to prepare for the last gift exchange of the evening - I felt my nerves unwind a bit - at least half the day was behind us - but David's agitation seemed to get just worst - he wandered over to the neighbor's and must have started drinking because the next time I saw him he was more agitated and now slurring - as always I thought of what my parents, and cousins who would be there soon would think - but then I pushed those ideas aside - I am not David's keeper and it would be better for those who love him to see him in his bad moments as well as his good - if we want him to be with us as a family - we must learn to except him as he is, not as we wish he were. To be cont...

#36 The Christmas that Came and Went

2006-12-31T09:37:00.000-08:00

I must confess that I have been avoiding writing this post from rank superstition - In the past many times I have uttered the words "he's doing better" only to have things fall into chaos the next day - so I refuse to say we are safely through the holiday season - there is still New Years and then at least two long winter months that are setting up to be particularly gray and damp. Instead I will simply describe the Christmas that came upon me as a shadow and went with a tear.
I begin my tale last Christmas when I threw myself into preparation and fairly reeked of positive Holiday spirit - of course it was in some ways a front - down deep I was worried and still carrying the grief of David's first attempt around - but I approached Christmas with hope that if I could make this one Christmas perfect it would in some way heal my family and wipe away the fear and despair that has plagued us in the previous months. Instead, as long time readers know - Christmas Eve found me in the ICU with David who had once again attempted to escape this world.
So this Christmas I approached on tippy toes - I quenched as much as possible any bubbling of holiday cheer - of course I prepared and baked and bought and wrapped - but all the while I whispered to myself "do not hope for too much - don't be surprised or disappointed if disaster strikes" and the days slipped by as they are wont to do and it was four days before Christmas. I drove to Columbus on edge to pick up David and his cat Jewel - soon I knew I had reason to worry - he called me two times on the way up - sounding manic and scared "It's happening again Mom, I just know I'll do the same thing as last year - I'm getting depressed" I thought if he was depressed it must be a mixed state - which is the most dangerous of all - I did my best to calm him and assured him that this year would be different. But did I believe it myself?
In a whirl I gathered up the cat, his things and my moody son and made it home - the two hours filled with ear splitting, depressing songs that he many times sang along with. The next day he seemed better, but by night he was again falling - he told me that he couldn't stay home for Christmas - he was afraid of what he might do and that he would rather be back in his apartment with his cat alone - tearfully I told him that I could not get through Christmas thinking of him alone so far away - was I thinking of only myself? Did I do the right thing my insisting he stay? To be cont.

Dailies #13

2006-12-12T06:10:00.000-08:00

Harrah! One quarter behind us - with tons of encouragement, pleading, and worrying David finished his finals and has received his grades - not the grades he wanted - but a wonderful accomplishment none the less - My husband and I went up to visit him yesterday - I cleaned the apartment and stocked him up on food so I hope it will be a good start for this holiday season. David seemed better - he had mentioned becoming what he calls "pychotic" over Thanksgiving so I suggested he take at least 50mg of seroquel every night - he has been and has been sleeping better as well - now to get through Christmas - our next big hurtle - wish us well - I'll update you as the day approaches.

This news piece deals with some of the issues facing those of us with mentally ill kids leaving for college - an interesting read

Amherst Times - OFF TO COLLEGE ALONE, SHADOWED BY MENTAL ILLNESS

Dailies #12

2006-11-21T05:57:00.000-08:00

This last weekend has been mixed - I got David to the doctor Friday so he could get his medicine refilled - he only stayed home fifteen minutes - seemed tense and on edge the whole time - the next day I thought he had watched the Ohio/Michigan game with his uncle - but when I finally talked to him Sunday evening I found out he had stayed in his apartment instead alone - and he was slipping - sounded depressed - didn't seem to care about anything - said he wasn't coming home for thanksgiving because he didn't like turkey - I had my brother go over to check on him and try to talk him into walking over to his place - David would not leave his apartment. Trying not to panic I waited awhile then called back - he told me he was so good that he wasn't even going to mention either one of the movies he was supposed to be analyzing in the paper he was working on - I asked "but isn't that what the paper is about?" he just laughed. Now I started praying - he seemed so far away - I called my brother again - he said he would call him back. I forced myself to wait two hours before calling again - telling myself that there are some things you just can't control. David answered and immediately began to talk cheerily about an upcoming movie and what he wanted for Christmas. Though relieved I knew this mood could be a symptom of mania - I reminded him to take his medicine, told him I loved him, and bid him good night - then like many other nights I lay in bed praying that the good night would not turn into goodbye.

This is an excellent article by a woman suffering from schizoaffective disorder - gives a perspective from the inside.
A mind taut with pain - Health - Times Online

#35 Between Hope and Despair

2006-11-16T06:34:00.000-08:00

The holidays are marching in with plans for get togethers, baking, shopping trips - in years past this time of year has been my favorite - Even last year I threw myself into the season - in an attempt to make it the best Christmas ever, a kind of celebration that David was still with us - In this I made a grave mistake and missed the important signs that were pointing to the fact that David was headed into depression and another attempt at suicide. This year I feel quite ambivalent - confused as to which way to turn - on one hand my usual excitement is building - I am beginning to make lists and plans - but in a way I hesitate to even think of the Holiday - I am becoming ultra vigilant watching David's every move - hoping that the season will not affect him as it did last year - and as I watch - I see odd signs that things might not be as well as I hoped - for instance I have been going up at least once a week to clean his apartment, take up his medicine, and bring back his laundry. This week I bought a cheap set of sheets so that I could bring his back to wash and he mentioned that he had only slept in his bed a few times - it then dawned on me that his bedroom looked unlived in - in fact it appeared that he spent most of his time on the futon in front of the TV watching SouthPark - all the seasons were spread out over the floor and every time I walked in the show was on - with the same episodes he has watched at least a hundred times each. I suggested that he come home the next day to stay a night since he is about out of medicine - still on the waiting list at the new psychiatrist - and our family doctor said if he came in he would write a couple months worth of his medicine - David mumbled some excuses and refused - and it was then that I knew he had built himself a tight routine in a tight space not doubt for reassurance - the familiar was comforting to him - and now that I think on it - he really hasn't been going anywhere except class, my brother's apartment, and the occasional dinner out with his grandma - he must feel safest there in his own spot with SouthPark playing over and over - I think of him as a child - always upset when his structure was threatened. He has said that he's coming home for Thanksgiving, but now I wonder how hard it will be to get him to leave his nest - and what is he pushing out by these self isolating actions - the Holidays - the same winter blues that snowballed into madness last year. Should I be concerned about this? Should I force him to come home for the holidays? I really don't know if he refuses if I could stand carrying on as usual thinking of him sitting alone on his futon, eating roman noodles and watching Kenny die for the billionth time - or am I not being realistic - I think sometimes I give into the illusion that this illness will someday just be gone - I must remind myself that my son is mentally ill and as long as he is content in the life he is living - why should I urge him to change?

Good Advice

2006-11-16T06:33:00.000-08:00

This article seems relevant considering my current concerns.

Bipolar Disorder: Holiday Tips for Family & Friends

Dailies #11

2006-11-09T07:46:00.000-08:00

Good news for a change - things are going fairly well - David is getting to class - most of the time and seems to be settled into the routine of living on his own. I do go up to his apartment at least once a week to clean and take back his laundry to wash. I also take up only a week's worth of medicine at a time - though things seem to be OK - I've learned from harsh experience that his moods can take a downward turn quickly. The only issue that is nagging at my mind is his growing obsession with his grades - David will never come right out and say something is bothering him - but if I listen closely to his conversations I can usually pick up clues, and he has been speaking incessantly about what grades he thinks he may end the quarter with - A, B, C and a Pass on his survey class - I think that's great for a any first year freshman, neverless one struggling with the obstacles David does, but he seems to feel he should have done better - I assure his that those grades are fine and listen carefully for any hints that this new worry of his doesn't spur him into a depression.

This article I found to be tentatively hopeful - I know for me and many other parents and loved ones there is always this hidden, mostly unspoken fear that this illness will end in suicide. This study from Ireland adds buoyancy to our hopes.
http://www.irishhealth.com/?level=4&id=10535

Dailies #10

2006-10-06T11:04:00.000-07:00

Sorry it's been song long - parenting long distance and also keeping up with work, a son in football and another teen, is exhausting - but enough complaints - I should be giving thanks instead. David is doing well - he did have a rough week, missing two of his 7:30 classes - he said he couldn't sleep all night - I think he was manic - probably from skipping meds - he wanted to drop the class because, as I mentioned before, he is a perfectionist when it comes to school work. I explained to him that he couldn't - he would fall below full time status and injure his scholarship and grant status - so instead he e-mailed his instructor about his mental illness and then had his councilor at the Office of Disability send a letter about his problems. The result shows that David getting accepted into the Disability program was the most important step in attending college - he was able to make up the work and now is back on track - the other great thing about his Disability status is that he received one of the first windows of registration for winter quarter - I prompted him to pick his classes and then I went online and registered for him - next quarter he only has class four days a week instead of five and no class starts before 12:30.
He as usual still has what I would call "odd moments" - a couple of days ago he made his, at least daily phone call in the evening - he said "it was pretty cold today" - then he went on to say that between classes he had sat outside for two hours reading the Iliad - I asked why he didn't go into a coffee shop or library - he replied that he didn't have any money and that libraries were now obsolete - I pictured him sitting on the stairs somewhere on that huge campus, his long hair (he still refuses to have it cut) hanging in his face, reading Homer - I just wanted to give him a long hug - but since I am here and he is there - I settled for explaining that there are libraries at OSU - books haven't gone the way of the horse and buggy yet - promised to put money in his account the next day and told him that I loved him

Here is a story that demonstrates the importance of educating the general public about mental illness - I also thought it was interesting that the girl had a service dog - I had never read about one being used for such a role - but it makes sense

Wal-Mart turns away helper dog -- Page 1 -- Times Union - Albany NY

Dailies #9

2006-09-18T19:29:00.000-07:00

David is in his new apartment and officially starts class on Wednesday - the first day he seemed do manage OK - my brother living so close helps, but tonight my mom stopped in to check and noticed that he had forgotten to take last night's meds and he couldn't figure out how to set his alarm - she thought him nervous and a bit manic - I know the upcoming trial of first day is working on him - I keep thinking positively and try not to worry constantly, but to say I am on edge would be an understatement - just thank the gods for my brother - he and my mom spent an hour organizing his apartment, took him out to dinner, and when my mom left my brother was busy printing out his schedule so he could drive him over and walk him through where his classes are tommorow - I will up date Wednesday -

Caregivers know from personal experience how much of a toll dealing with mental illness can be - this new study highlights some of these concerns

International Caregiver Survey Shows Treatment Disruption Has Serious Consequences for Families Living with Serious Mental Illness: Financial News - Yahoo! Finance

Dailies #8

2006-09-12T07:50:00.000-07:00

Things have been busy and chaotic lately as I try to juggle getting David in an apartment (that should be accomplished before the end of the week), preparing for a new school year of teaching and maintaining the rest of the household. so far things have been going well; David was anxious to get his textbooks early and has already started reading them - he does seem a bit down this last couple of days - probably the stress of dealing with this upcoming change - I hope we can make the transition without precipitating a crisis. Myself I worry, worry, worry - I worry that his anxiety will overcome him the first couple of days - I worry that he will become lonely and depressed away from home - I worry that he will fail to take his medication. My list is never ending - but I know that for David to have a life of his own I have to stand back and walk away - of course I will still no doubt call him constantly and drive up to check on him often - but in the end I am here and he will be there and if something happens he will be alone - I have never felt more afraid in this tossing sea - I see my son drifting off with the current - he could be headed towards of tropical paradise or a brewing hurricane - either way I know I must let him go.

Another note - the following report of schizophrenia and teens is sobering and informative - something for parents to keep in mind when they struggle to understand why their kids do what they do.

PsychiatryMatters.MD

Dailies #7

2006-09-01T05:53:00.000-07:00

I fear to even say this - I don't want to jinx myself, but things have taken a turn for the better - my husband is doing well - our relationship has been improving day by day - I have been taking him to his doctor's appointments and those have went well - The stomach doc says that he also has gatroparesis (a condition where the stomach doesn't empty fast enough) and has given him some further diet restrictions, but the time away and the diet seems to be healing not only his body, but his mind - he has gained a much more positive outlook and determination that we can get through these troubling times. And I am, as readers have suggested, going to have David, and the other children screened for Celiac. David also seems to be improving - no more comments about dreams blurring to reality or voices. We are going to get his apartment this coming week and he is very excited about that - I, of course am very nervous - but I'm sending his favorite cat, Jewel, with him and he will be living in the same apartment complex as his uncle - I am making a list of all the things we need to do to prepare - I know that for one I'm only going to give him three to four days of meds at a time - his uncle can hold the rest - and I am ordering his books for class early - he says he wants to start looking at them now - I think he is still having trouble concentrating so perhaps he can get a jump start on the reading which will help. It's raining here and gray today - remnants of Ernesto - but inside a beam of warmth and light has begun to shine - I feel happier and more confident that maybe things will work out OK - though don't get me wrong - I know with all our problems that many challenges await, but today, at least, I feel I have the strength to face them.

Dailies #6

2006-08-25T13:39:00.000-07:00

The road is always paved with good intentions - I did hope and plan to write much more often, but life has once again thrown me into the bog and I have been trudging my way back onto calmer turf. As I mentioned last time my husband was diagnosed with Celiac Sprue; this diagnosis, coupled with the constant pain he has in his hips and back and the fact that he hasn't been able to work for over a year sent him into a tailspin. As his depression increased so did the arguments, not only between him and myself, but also between him and David - I won't go into the gory details of marital and family discord, but just note that the last month has been a kind of Hades - ending in a personal disaster - meanwhile David has begun to have more and more trouble distinguishing between reality and dreams - and last night I heard him tell someone (no one was there) to stop throwing things at him - he has been willing to take his Seroquel more often, but I believe that the stress associated with college approaching and his father's troubles is prompting these new problems. One brighter note is that my husband has realized the issue and is staying with our oldest daughter for a couple of weeks till we can get things smoothed over. - I am busy trying to get the mud of the bog off me and attempting once again to reevaluate and start again. Wish me luck and send me prayers!

Dailies #5

2006-08-04T08:24:00.000-07:00

Been busy, busy this last two weeks - my husband has been officially diagnosed with Celiac Sprue so we have been adjusting to his gluten free diet - David had his orientation at OSU - we had to drive two hours to get there and by the time we did he had broken into a heavy sweat - "I don't know if I can do this," he said as we pulled into the parking lot - I coached him through the sign in process and then we drove to my brother's where David proceeded to have a full blown anxiety attack vomiting all day. I tell this story because I want to encourage persistence and a willingness to get help. If this is David's dream somehow we can make it happen - I called the Disability office at OSU and they arranged for David to come back up a couple of days later - and only for the advising session. We drove back up at the set time and this time David, knowing what to expect did great - he is now registered for Fall classes - one hurdle gone - however, I am trying to get him into a psychiatrist at OSU who can better manage his anxiety. Step by step we go - sometimes back, but always moving on.

Here is an interesting article which in a manner takes me to task for the previous passage - I do ask David if going to OSU is his dream and not mine - I hope he tells the truth when he says it is

Darien News - Teens Paying a Price for Privileged Lives

Dailies #4

2006-07-15T16:03:00.000-07:00

Back into madness - David is slipping this last few days, not depressed but rather manic - I have read that the summer months many times are the worst for those suffering from mania - so maybe that's it. He left early yesterday afternoon with one of his friends, saying he would be right back - I didn't see him again till six this morning when he bounced into my bedroom quite out of his mind - after a trying morning and afternoon he is fast asleep and I hope he remains so till tomorrow morning. And as when it rains it pours, my husband is now obsessing with the thought that he is going to die in this procedure Tuesday - he wants to make out a will. I keep telling him that he will be fine - but he has went on so long that he's managed to get me nervous about Tuesday as well.
On a different track - I just finished the best book I've read all year - Joan Didion's memoir - The Year of Magical Thinking - you can read more about it on resources.

Dailies #3

2006-07-13T08:53:00.000-07:00

Today we are struggling - David was rather agitated and manic last night and this morning - wanting to start an argument about anything and everything - by morning he admitted he was manic and managed to get to sleep after he took his medicine. It might be the tension in the house bringing it on - my husband is having a scope and biopsy done the 18th to find out what has been causing malabsorption and consequently osteoporosis - he always has anxiety about medical procedures and this one is unfortunately scheduled on the second year anniversary of his brother's death - he has been telling the kids and me that he probably won't make it and if he doesn't what he wants us to know - I'm sure this is playing into David's agitation and I am having to deal with both of them - thank goodness for the new Lexapro!

On another note here is an easy to read discussion for those concerned with increased risk of suicide with antidepressant use. It is actually a brief course for mental health professional, but can be understood by a layperson.

PsychiatryMatters.MD

News Brief

2006-07-12T04:58:00.000-07:00

Magic mushrooms for depression? This article's a bit bizarre - but interesting - note I'm not suggesting we all dig out our tie die and go searching for the lost age of Aquarius - but still food for thought!

The Seattle Times: Nation & World: Mushrooms' active ingredient expands the mind, study finds

Dailies #2

2006-07-12T04:18:00.000-07:00

Just a quick note - the doctor prescribed me a new antidepressant, lexapro, which I began to take yesterday - the only thing I can say for sure is that I had some trouble going to sleep yesterday and woke up at 5:30 this morning with a nervous energy - I'm sure I'll crash later, but it sure is nice to not be dragging myself out of bed.

#34 My Son

2006-07-10T06:39:00.000-07:00

Pride - a monster if you let it control your thoughts and actions - this point was brought home to me the other night - I was pleasantly surprised that all three of the kids, yes including David, decided to go with me to see the midnight showing of Pirates of the Caribbean - It's a momentous occasion when teens submit to being seen in public with their mom. And so we packed up in the car and headed out - in the glow of this unexpected parental accomplishment I had failed to closely take into account how David was dressed - his clothes were wrinkled and somewhat stained, but I could have lived with that - but perched upon what appeared to be quite dirty hair - when was his last shower? - was a bandana and a hat with a large marijuana leaf on it - the other two kids must have noticed his strange appearance as well for they shot off in all directions when we arrived - the travesty of being seen with not only your mother - but your strangely dressed and dirty brother. And I must say that I myself fought a rising emotion - could it be shame? I noticed the stares and giggles - the whispers - I found myself wanting to bolt - shame on my mother's heart - he is my son! I pushed down those troubling thoughts and worked on enjoying the moment - it had been years since all the kids had went to a movie together and when we got into the showing - full - alas we all had to sit together despite the other two's efforts - and as I sat beside my son - my nose confirming that it had been a few days since his last shower I wanted nothing more than to reach over and give this son of mine a hug - I am proud of him - proud that he is here alive enjoying this movie - what should I care what people think - of course I don't give him a hug - that would no doubt embarrass him!

Dailies #1

2006-07-06T14:25:00.000-07:00

I have decided, have determined, have promised myself and you my readers that I will in the future post almost everyday and so I am posting this first daily thoughts - to be separated from the usual journal entries, where I will still deal with more serious, deeper issues. In this first edition, as it is, I want to share a small victory with David last night - a couple of his, what I would call good timing friends stopped by and he made up an excuse, not to go with them - now you may not see the victory in this - and afterall he did tell a fib - but to me it was a positive step, however small to see him choose to stay home and play video games with his brother rather than go out towards possible trouble.
Now a note about me - my MS doctor called today and said that the results of some recent testing showed that I had some slight attention and short term memory problems - I thought surprise, surprise - she feels the problem may be caused by stress and depression more than anything else - again surprise, surprise - she's going to change my medicine and suggests counseling - however I have lately been trying to get my stress level under control through walking - Yoga (haven't quite got to this one yet) and what I would call reading therapy - another term for pure escapism. Anyways I have felt better and hope that these changes will help - and by the way I forgot - surprise - to mention that I have posted some new resources, one heavy, depressing, though wonderful memoir, one light information text, and one for pure escape - happy reading!

#33 The Saddest of Truths

2006-07-05T10:39:00.000-07:00

David is doing ok these last two weeks, but he has been continuing some habits I wish he wouldn't - spending money recklessly - spending his time aimlessly - I want to change him - to make him quit drinking and buying skoal - to force him to save money - to get him to start his day before two in the afternoon - but alas I cannot - and that hits hard at the main illusion of motherhood - we our not our children - although our blood may run through their veins - their soul and mind are separate and inpenetrable - they are their own persons and we can give advice, scold, cry, and threaten, but in the end all of us - each human on this spinning planet can only truly control themselves and that is the saddest of truths - since we can't control the ones they love they will do things we don't approve of - they will do things that will hurt us - they may even commit the ultimate betrayal and die. To watch a love one die is the ultimate lesson in our lack of control - a couple of months ago I lost my grandmother and I was impressed as I sat on her bedside watching for every tortuous breath, dreading the moment when there would be no more, that we are indeed alone in this world - in the beginning and in the end - and to love - oh! to love is to bring heartbreak upon yourself - but to not? To not love is to miss those exquisite moments when our barriers break down and we can truly connect to another being - to not have loved is to not have lived - and so I wait for those moments when with a smile David turns to me and we converse - not fight - when we agree on a movie, or a book. Those rare moments are what make this difficult road worth walking.

#32 Raging River

2006-06-16T07:56:00.000-07:00

Sorry it has been so long since I posted, but life in the last month has seemed to me a flood swelled raging river and I have been swept along, attempting to grab at passing branches to slow down to no avail. This month has been long and hard - my nerves are about shot - my husband who has been having increasing health problems found out that he has Celiac Disease, a disorder of the small intestine that causes malabsorption - but his problem has paled in face of the struggles we have gone through with David. Though he would not say, the approaching graduation at his former highschool, where so many times he declared he would be valedictorian - tormented him day and night. He began acting wildly, became manic, staying up for nights on end - he woke me at all hours of the night to sit on the bed and talk non stop - one morning he woke me to say he had just fallen off the house roof - but not to worry - he was all right. I began to feel trapped - I was afraid to leave him alone - so my life revolved around him - I tried to send him up to my brother's, but he walked out, with only the comment, "see you later" - as you can imagine this upset my brother greatly - after searching for almost an hour he did find him wandering around the streets - needless to say David soon came home. All I could do was batten down the hatches in preparation for the coming storm - with the enlistment of every family member we managed to survive the fated day and I must say things have improved since - perhaps David now can start anew - putting those lost dreams and failures behind him - and looking towards the future - we had a graduation reception for him a couple of weeks later - since he is receiving a diploma from his online highschool. The evening went well and I was happy to find that many of his old friends - the ones he had stopped hanging out with when things went down hill, showed up. All in all the storm clouds have been receding and I hope for at least a bit calm seas - the rest would do us all a bit of good.

#31 The Long Road

2006-05-07T11:00:00.000-07:00

Some days, even though I'm only thirty eight, I feel at least a century old - and oh! the long, long road ahead - I think one of the most daunting things about having a child with a chronic disease is that there is no end - the road stretches out past the horizon and though good spells may give one a sense of hope - they don't last. Inevetibly the bad times recur and we pick back up our burden and trudge on down that endless road. The hope I feel for David is still there - but dimmed - he has been going through a tough time lately - some weeks not wanting to take showers or change clothes and falling back into some of his more self destructive habits - On one hand I feel irritated - the whole world is before him - although he has a mental illness - he still has his brilliant mind, and a charming, witty personality - he can succeed - the only problem is that I know this - but most of the time, he doesn't - and as he sees the friends that he went to school with go to the senior prom, take senior skip day and prepare for graduation, the chasm between their existence and his must seem to grow to an uncrossable obstacle - I pick up my pack - it will take all my energy, strength, and love to get him through this trial and emerge on the other side of this coming summer - I have been makeing all the last arrangement with the university - scheduling orientation and an appointment with disability services - I have to come up with things to keep him busy, occupied, and prevent him from dwelling on the past. To be Cont.

#30 Hope?

2006-03-27T05:15:00.000-08:00

Some good news for a change - David got his SSI - and the same week he got a chance to fly to Florida with his uncle. The day of their flight I was paralyzed with fear - not of tragedy, but of hope. Isn't it funny how in life we can become acclimated to almost anything - I was accustomed to bad news, to trouble, to struggle - my mind could not wrap itself around the fact that something good was happening - and so my mind made up its own bad news - I was certain that this was some cruel twist in fate - tempting us into some ultimate disaster - the jet would crash - the jet would be hijacked - David would lose control from paranoia and be shot dead by the marshals like that man with bipolar disorder in the news a couple of months back. I tried, but I just could not make myself just be grateful for my son's good fortune - it was pouring that night and as I sat at my desk grading listening to the pounding rain - I thought back to how this had started after David's first attempt and how it rained for days - I couldn't help but think that if this was literature it would end the same - the rain - the floods - the phone call that the plane had went down. I had to shake myself and find something to distract me - I called my cousin to tell her the good news - but I just couldn't help but mention that it felt scary to have things go right. Then my husband called out from the mudroom in the back of the house - we have been patching our old roof for a couple of years and it wasn't unusual for a new leak to spring up, but this one was massive - a steady stream ran from the ceiling and the sheetrock had begun to bow - just as my husband turned to grab a bucket, a four foot wide section of the ceiling came crashing down - I laughed - perhaps an inappropriate reaction - but now I felt sure that the plane would land smoothly (which it did) - things had been going too well - but the hole in the ceiling begged normalcy - at least in our lives - the rain pouring into my house yelled hope!

#29 The Regrets

2006-03-03T15:37:00.000-08:00

I am being hounded by entities from Hell. Not the terrible trio called the Furies, but rather a group I have named, the Regrets. They come upon me at times such as these when I am contemplating mistakes I have made in the week – in this case forgetting my mother’s birthday until she mentioned it, realizing that my composition class hasn’t understood half of my forty minute lecture, evidenced by their uncomprehending, blank stares, and noting that David has become somewhat manic and has been awake for thirty six hours straight. It is now that the Regrets arrive, well dressed, with perfect hair and nails, as always beaming happiness – the perfect daughter, who never forgets her mother’s birthday and always has enough money to buy her a memorable gift; the perfect instructor, always organized, witty, and easily understood; the perfect mother, watching as her son stands to the podium as valedictorian at his high school graduation. All the women I thought I might be, that I thought I could be. They torture me with their excellence in stark contrast to my reality. But wait, slightly behind and to the side stands one that one that cannot be one of the regrets. She is unkempt; her hair needs a cut and has been pushed back awkwardly – her clothes don’t quite match, are rumpled, and has cat hair and chalk dust on them. In her eyes there is not happiness, but neither is there despair. Instead there is a passion, a determination that vibrates through her being – she is far from perfect, but she has a weapon, a glittering pen that she uses to disperse the smiling regrets – as the being gets closer I realize – She is Me!

#28 Murky Depths

2006-02-21T06:05:00.000-08:00

Sorry to everyone that it has been so long since I posted - I have had a mental block of sorts and have been fighting my own battle with a bit of depression (my doc has given me 40mg of prozac a day) it is helping - I guess I needed a while to focus on my own needs - I have been very low - just swimming around the depths - no energy to struggle to the storm tossed surface - but enough is enough - I know if I am to survive - if David is to survive I must pull myself up - so I think for a while I'm going to try to use this blog as a type of therapy - I'll try to journal as much as possible and continue to share our story - I might just whine a bit more - I have not shared with my readers another problem that I have - perhaps it is time - I have been struggling with my own illness for the last few years - the doctors have diagnosed me with possible MS - and surprise - surprise, stress is really bad for my symptoms - so this last month or so has been tough, not only mentally, but also physically - but I like to remember that God will not give you anything you are not strong enough to handle - he must feel I'm pretty strong - so I plan to live up to his expectations - out of the murky depth into the wind tossed storm

#27 Shipwrecked Again

2005-12-30T07:49:00.000-08:00

On Christmas Eve morning David once again tried to take his own life - swallowing a weeks worth of medicine and ending up in ICU because to the lithium toxicity - my thoughts are hard to express - so I'll just share this poem I wrote yesterday -
Son, son, slipping
Water dark and chilled
Penetrating my skin and soul
Hold on - Hold on

Drowning we both in a sea of doubt
Life, so hard - the ocean so wide
Tread with me me son
Catch the last remnant of the ship we call life

Far the darkness reaches
Over vast distances and
Unknown lands
Hold onto my hand -

Son - we are afloat still
Now in blazing hot sun
Sharks circling round
Clasp upon me

#26 Season of Despair

2005-12-05T06:57:00.000-08:00

The holiday season is upon us, supposedly filled with merriness and warmth, twinkling lights, good food, children's laughter. But I have seen my son, as the season of mirth approaches, instead slipping into an inner despair. His sleeping pattern is complete chaos - he will sleep for 18 out of 24 hours, then stay up for 36 - he has worn the same jeans since Thanksgiving, and the same shirt for the last four days. He has taken showers, but puts back on the same clothes. His attitude has also become increasingly negative - for example, when he saw the freshly trimmed tree, he said, "I hate Christmas - I mean Christmas trees." His only soft spot right now is for our two cats that we recently adopted from the shelter, a kitten named Jewel and an older cat the kids named Frank after Frank Sinatra. I've been trying to make sure he is taking all his medicine, but with his erratic schedule, it is difficult. What worries me the most is that all this seems so familiar. I think back to Christmas last year and in retrospect recognize signs that I didn't then and now see repeated. I know I must be vigilant for the coming month - statistics show that bipolar disease is many times seasonal and it appears that the holidays are David's season of despair. Even more frightening and always at the back of my mind is the statistic that one out of five who suffer from manic-depressive decease end up committing suicide. For now, though, all I can do is pray and try to wash his pants and shirt if and when he sleeps.

2005-11-10T23:30:00.000-08:00

Lost at Sea

A Note about how to use site

2005-11-10T22:29:00.000-08:00

Most of my posts, the ones that are numbered, are a continuation of the story of our struggle to come to terms with my son's attempted suicide and diagnosis of mental illness. I would suggest starting at #1 to get the whole picture and to understand the frequent allusions to the metaphor of being lost at sea. I have also added a new page that can be accessed from the link on the right. It deals with resources that may be of interest and relevant to mental illness.

Renewal

2005-11-10T11:22:00.000-08:00

As you have no doubt noticed I have not been very diligent in posting lately - I pledge I will do better - but I have decided to try a new format - from this post on I am going to discuss current issues that my family and I are facing - going back to problems that happened month's ago seems to be cycling through feelings that are counterproductive to healing - so from here we look forward, not back - I do however want to bring everyone up to date - so here is a quick summary - David is much better - at the moment - he had a really bad spell in the summer when I feared I was going to lose him to bad influences, but he has - for the most part come around - though we go day by day and he certainly isn't back to any real "normalcy" - he still is taking lithium, seroquel, zoloft, inderal for tremor's and lately has been given a low dose of xanax to take only when he is going into stressful social situations - he is finishing up his senior year online and thus is home most of the time - more on that later -

#25 Adapting

2005-11-10T09:56:00.000-08:00

The only way to survive in this crazy world of ours in by adapting - I'm reminded of this - strangely by a pumpkin lying in our mud room. You see I bought three pumpkins for the kids to carve a week before Halloween. It had been a couple of years since the kids were really interested in carving Jack-O-Lanterns, but I thought we needed some reminders of tradition this year, so I bought David, Elizabeth, and Joseph each one. Elizabeth and her boyfriend jumped right in; he had only carved one once in his life so he was thrilled. Joseph was a bit more relunctant, but finished his in time. But David, as with so many things, said he would get to it later, and now its too late. The pumpkin lies neglected, its potential unused. I feel that way about David in a manner; he is full of unused potential. I think of other parents whose children have become unrealized harvest. Because of drug use or illness their children have never lived up to their purpose. We, as parents plant carefully, water, and tend, expecting a bounteous harvest in the end; how sad to see a harvest left out in the field unused. But perhaps I'm looking at this wrong. At least I still have my harvest, and God's plan for a bounteous harvest may not be the same as mine. I may not stand next May to applaud my valedictorian, but I have a breathing, living son, who just came in the house carrying the cat, because he said he looked cold - I tell myself to not let bitterness wither the vine: adapt to God's plan, let go of mine - I look back to the pumpkin - pumpkin pie anyone?

#24 All The King's Horses

2005-10-23T19:21:00.000-07:00

Have you ever noticed that the dreams we hold on to the hardest and longest are the ones we hold for others - but they often are not solid dreams, but rather ethereal clouds of illusion, built on our own vanities - so it is with illusions that I have held about my daughter Elizabeth, only two years younger than David, she has suffered, perhaps the most of all his siblings. It was on her birthday that he chose to try to end his existence - and in doing so greatly altered hers -A year ago Elizabeth was the typical Freshman - bubbly, enthusiastic - she was chosen Freshman attendant for Football and enjoyed her moment in the spotlight - she had many friends, was on the swim team and the yearbook staff. - Then Jan 4th arrived and on her 15th birthday I made a cake - we sang Happy Birthday - David sang it in Spanish - then (as we found out later) he went down to his room to write a suicide note, telling all his family how much he loved us. --- Who, at 15, so close to her brother, could have come out unscathed - I had Elizabeth to a councilor for awhile but she seemed so much better - she stopped going - over the summer she appeared fine - but older - not the bubbly, carefree girl we had known - her sophomore year has brought her change to the forefront - she can't relate to her peers any more- their happy teenage chatter is making her anxious - she feels so different from then to now - she has started having nightmares and migraines - she has begged me to let her either take high school online like her brother does or take all post secondary at the local college - For the longest time I refused stubbornly until day by day I saw her misery at being somewhere she no longer felt she belonged - I realized it wasn't for her dreams that I wanted her to stay in the normal high school pattern but for my own illusions - and so I have relented and agreed to check on alternatives - like so much in my life I will have to learn to live with change - All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty together again and neither can I glue back the pieces of our family back the way they were -

#23 Broken

2005-09-11T20:56:00.000-07:00

I did not answer - I didn't know how - I felt as if I broke inside. The sea was dark - the depth bottomless and I was going down. Why fight? Why tread in a world where a merciless God would do this? - take a wonderful, smart, handsome boy, full of potential and toss him into a world of madness - and worse - if God wasn't merciless then there was no God - and if...and if...what was the purpose? I sat there in my kitchen beside my son and sobbed - he had looked to me for answers - for hope - I had none to give. But then a miracle occured - perhaps there was a loving God after all - an angel walked in the door - of course it was a very familiar face - but an angel to us at that moment all the same. What I couldn't give to David my mom gave to us both - assurance and comfort - a plan. I called the psychiatrist - he talked to David and he agreed to try another antipsychotic, Seroquel and begin lithium. My mom talked calmly and soothingly to David and after awhile the madness receded - it was still in the edges of his gaze - but my son was trying to fight his way back to the surface - I couldn't do any less than follow...To be cont.

#22 Two Steps Back

2005-08-17T07:08:00.000-07:00

The same day that David had popped into the bedroom at four a.m., we had to go to our family doctor for a check up on the liver levels - it was there that I began to understand that something was going terribly wrong - first in the waiting room David kept knocking th book I was perusing off my lap - the first time I tried to pass it off as a joke and laughed weakly - but by the third and fourth time I was concened - he was acting like a two year old, but he was a six foot teenager who had an alarming look in his eyes - his mouth was curling up in the corner and although I couldn't say my son was actually scaring me - panic was rising - what was I going to do if he completely lost control in this crowded doctor's office? We did mange to get through the visit without any crisis however - but on the way home I could hardly recognize the boy sitting next to me - I could hardly believe was my son - he rambled on about how he had decided to quit school altogether - that this was who he was meant to be - he wasn't going to take any more medicine and if he ended up on the streets so be it - I don't need to add that by now I was beside myself - despite my best effort I began to cry - but this didn't stop his tirade - David was becoming more and more agitated and wild by the minute - a deluge of flooded water pouring through a crack in the dam - I had no idea how to staunch it - then at home his demeaner changed again - he began to weep in this most hopeless manner like someone with a broken heart - I tried to comfort him " You'll feel better once you get on a new mood stabilizer" - I'll never forget the look he gave me then - "But I need the antipsychotic" - he wouldn't tell me why but his look went through me like a jagged knife - his eyes held madness and a haunted despair - he put his head down again and began to sob "what am I supposed to do? Help me." To be cont.

#21 One Step Forward ...

2005-08-02T05:55:00.000-07:00

The first few days of cutting back the medicine went fine. In fact David seemed to be doing great. Full of energy he started getting back some of that curiosity and interest in things that he had been so long without. But slowly the energy turned to mania and then to severe mania - he stayed up for three days straight - one morning he burst in at four o'clock in the morning asking me if I could come up with some new lessons for him to do the next day. He had been up all night reading - something he had seemed to have no desire to do since his suicide attempt. The next day he feverishly, with words spilling out in a rush that he had stopped taking the risperdal - he had only pretended to take it the last few times - I, of course, was concerned, but I guess I was so wishful that all this had been a dream - that I foolishly let him convince me that he didn't need the Risperdal at all - he felt like himself again and was so happy to enjoy reading again - and this I understood more than anything - an avid reader I couldn't imagine what it would be like to have that taken away from me. I realized of course that my son was manic - but I thought that once he had been tapered off the Depakote and put on something else that perhaps his mania would recede and that he didn't need an antipsychotic after all. But like a mirage of a nearby island on that storm tossed sea - I was just setting myself up for great disappointment - for the island was actually a circling shark waiting for the right moment to strike ....

20# Setback

2005-07-20T06:34:00.000-07:00

It was a couple of weeks after the trip to the high school - the Depakote had begun to help David's mood swings and he was struggling to catch up on his school work - it just didn't seem to be coming as easy as it always had in the past and his anxiety was still apparent - he would rather work on his own rather than have to walk into the school to be tutored by his teacher's, even in after school hours. The principal suggested that the teachers would be happy to come to the house once a week, but David was nervous about this as well - I believe he was embarrassed that he had not been able to keep up with the class. But since the mood swings had begun to diminish I had hope that with time he would begin to become less anxious. However, stability was not yet meant to be - when we went back to the psychiatrist he went over the blood work that he had ordered the week before - he was very concerned - Depakote can on rare occasions harm the liver and David's liver levels, instead of being in the double digits were in the hundreds. The psychiatrist ordered him to immediately begin to taper off the Depakote and to cut back on the Risperdal and the Zoloft - he ordered another test for a few days after the last dose of Depakote and a return appointment - I drove home sick at my stomach - David tried to act like he wasn't worried, but glancing over to find that he was gnawing on his fingernails, I knew he was - I felt like crying just looking at him - he must be wandering "what next" and I worried not only for the health of his liver - but also the health of his mind - how far would this set him back - would the mood swings return - the depression - the voices? It seemed that he had finally begun the long climb back and now we were crashing back down the mountain. As I was to find out soon I had good reason to worry. To be Cont.

19# The Wheel of Fortune

2005-07-12T11:59:00.000-07:00

First sorry it has been so long - I have been very busy with the kids all being home for summer - and now on with the story - Probably most of you have learned at some time about the definition of a tragic hero - yes, the kind that populate Shakespeare's tragedies - well one of the most basic characteristics of a tragic hero is a fall from high - in other words a tragic hero must have at some time been on top - whether in social standing, finances, or luck and then tragically the wheel of fate must turn and bring them to the bottom - unfortunately for those of us that have lived through real life tragedies the idea of having it all and then losing it all is not just fictional. In our case the reality of this hit me one day as I sat in the high school guidance councilor's office filling out an IEP for my son so he could continue on home instruction - it had been a couple of weeks since I had decided that David needed some time away from the pressure of high school - since then he had been having some wild mood swings and his psychiatrist had prescribed Depakote to be added to the Zoloft and Risperdal - as I sat there with the principal and the school councilor looking over the papers I had to fill out - I found that I couldn't read the words - despite my best attempt tears were welling up and blurring my sight - somehow this put an official seal on my son's fall - not that I'm saying there's anything shameful with filling out an IEP - but it seemed unimaginable that the boy who had always been the star pupil, who had never gotten in trouble till this year, who had been in the gifted program was now being labeled as handicapped by mental illness - once the tears began - they wouldn't stop - soon I was sobbing - the well meaning principal brought in a box of tissues and I fought to get myself together - all I wanted was to get through this and get home - rising to leave I thanked them and grabbed one more tissue - but fate was not through with me yet - the principal held out an envelope - "Um - I don't know if you will want to share this with David - but - it was my duty to give it to you" - there in that envelope was the dream that David had talked about for so long - an invitation to the National Honor Society - I never have given him that letter - it seemed too cruel - one more reminder of what might have been - of what should have been. To be Cont.

Cognitive Therapy and Bipolar Disorder - News #1

2005-06-29T06:36:00.000-07:00

I have decided to begin noting news items that I find helpful or interesting – so this is the first. Researchers in Britain, from the institute of Psychiatry in London have completed a study, which shows that patients with bipolar disorder who are given cognitive therapy added to mood stabilizing drugs, are less likely to have relapses. The study also looked at how the combination therapy was more cost effective, by cutting down on the expense that relapses incurred. The full study was published in the British Journal of Psychiatry
http://bjp.rcpsych.org/cgi/content/abstract/186/6/500

18# Pulling Away From the World

2005-06-24T07:11:00.000-07:00

That night I asked David how his day at school had went and he told me it was OK. But as the evening preceded he began to share some concerns - he worried that he wouldn't be able to catch up and he didn't understand some of the things that were being discussed since he had missed so many days - I assured him that it would be easy for him to get caught up - but a nagging doubt begin to gnaw at me - David was a genius - he had never had any trouble understanding anything at school and had been able to pick up on complex concepts by just perusing the text - what could be wrong? What if the overdose had caused some brain damage? Maybe it was the medicine that was affecting his concentration? What I didn't know then that I have since learned is that some forms of mental illness can affect the way ideas are organized in the brain and thus can make learning difficult - then I only knew that my son was very worried and considering his past suicide attempt this was unsettling - the next day we went to the councilor for the first time - I was very pleased with him and David appeared to like him - in session David opened up a bit more about school and admitted that it wasn't just the work that had him concerned - he was extremely anxious while there and again felt like everyone was staring at him - he said he didn't want to go back - I thought that this would be a mistake - you know the old saying about getting back up on the horse - but to my surprise the councilor agreed with him - he thought that it would be a mistake to force him to be in a stressful, anxious situation so soon after his attempt - alone he told me that sometimes it took six months to a year to get back to normal life - another reminder of how our life had changed! I agreed to call the school and see if they could set up home instruction for David, at least for a couple of months. To Be Cont.

17# Snow Storm

2005-06-09T10:10:00.000-07:00

The first day David went back to school snow was threatening – gray clouds hung low and heavy as I drove the kids to school. The weather fit my mood of foreboding – all day I worried about my son – how would he answer all the questions – the principal had sent out the story that he had a bad flu and had spent some time in the hospital. I worried that he wouldn’t be able to handle the stress, the stares, the whispers. But when I went to pick them up after school all my fears seemed to be allied. David was smiling and asked if he could run to his friend’s house for a sec and then his friend would bring him home – glancing at the still gray sky and the first few snowflakes – I reluctantly agreed – I didn’t want to seem overprotective and thus embarrass him – OK – but be careful and hurry it looks like its finally going to snow. By the time the rest of us reached home the flurries had turned into a snow squall and the police scanner (my husband’s nosy hobby) was calling for ambulances, rescue, and cops in every direction. We had just missed several wrecks on our road – I immediately started to panic – why did I let him go? I called his friend’s house – they had already left – after I had paced for a good half an hour my daughters suggested that we drive as far as we could and then try to walk up to the wrecks since they had shut down the road – and so we did - we had to walk a good half mile in the wind and snow to get to the first crash and of course – they had just towed off the car and opened the road – it wasn’t my son’s friend – they had just been stuck in traffic - trudging back to the car my fifteen year old daughter said “you wouldn’t have done this for any of us – you would have trusted that we were all right and would get home as soon as we could” I didn’t answer because I knew she was right – I didn’t know how to explain or for that matter stop the emotions that were simmering inside waiting at any minute to come spilling out – primal motherhood – an overwhelming sense of needing to protect my son and a terrible fear that in the end I would be unable to – To be cont.

16# Sleepless in Ohio

2005-06-01T05:49:00.000-07:00

First off sorry about the long time since the last post - I took a well needed break - now back to the story - that first evening home David was ecstatic - he was so happy to be back in his room with his games and his i-pod - and with us. I was proud of the other kids in that they greeted him as if he had just been on any extended trip - I wish I could say the same - it was as if I had just brought him home as an infant - I couldn't sleep - I kept creeping downstairs to check on him hoping that he wouldn't catch me being an extremely over protective mom - but each time I lay down to sleep, the night that I found him kept playing over and over and then up I crept again. I was exhausted the next day but joyous that I had my son home - and with everyone else up I could relax - and so it went on for days - as soon as I would drift off to sleep I would have nightmares all involving David - always I was deperately trying to save him from some unknown enemy. This insomnia has slowly eleviated - almost six months later I sleep much sounder, but if David has had a bad day or we've had some upset (more on these matters later) again I find myself creeping down those stairs -

15# Home Again, Home Again

2005-05-20T10:04:00.000-07:00

Jiggidy, Jig - when the kids were little I always repeated that last line of the nursery rhyme when we pulled into the driveway - It was Wednesday when David came home exactly a week since he had been admitted - it seemed much longer. My mom and I drove up that evening to get him and found him happy, but nervous waiting with all his things in a trash bag and a handful of projects that he had completed in Art therapy - He had one braided and beaded necklace that one of the girls had given to him. The girl walked over shyly to say goodbye - beautiful girl rail thin - anerexia I thought to myself. And then we were on our way home - Mom asked if he wanted to stop and go in to to eat - he declined - so nervous - he talked on and on about the medicine and the ward - none of us knew how to act - I could never have imagined that I would ever feel so uncomfortable with my own son. He was very upset that they had not given him any medicine for evening - "I have to have it Mom; they said that even one dose missed could be bad." Hearing the panic rising Mom, as usually was the calming force - "Don't worry we'll find a pharmacy open - and we did find it - when we parked David said he had to get some air for a minute - as he paced around the parking lot - I felt like crying - "Who was this person I was taking home?" How was I supposed to react - what was I supposed to say - what behavior was normal for him now? Nothing in my past had prepared me for this - I looked over and Mom seemed at ease - just as if her grandson, once brilliant and self possessed was now pacing around outside agitated and different, oh so different. Well, I thought if she can remain calm so can I - I tried to focus on the positive - at least he was here - at least he was outside pacing - we hadn't lost him - that did help - by the time he got back in and he took his medicine, rispardal, I was feeling much calmer - when we pulled into the driveway that old line spontaneously came out "home again, home again." David smiled ear to ear. "Oh, I've missed it so much." to be cont.

A Quick Note and Man's Best Friend

2005-05-14T13:57:00.000-07:00

A Quick note - I just posted a review on the resource page of a wonderful memoir

Man's Best Friend - this post is just to honor all loyal dogs everywhere by testifying about our lab, Bernie. He's seven years old and an inside dog. In all those years, every night he slept outside of our bedroom. That is until the day I brought David back from the hospital, since then he has insisted in sleeping in David's room. If we try to shut him out he barks, and whines till David finally gives in and opens the door. Its as if somehow the dog knows that David needs protection in some way and he is determined to keep an eye on him - it actually helps me go to sleep at night knowing that Bernie is on guard. So thank you Bernie and all man's best friends; I now know how true that phrase is.

14# It's You and Me Against the World

2005-05-14T13:33:00.000-07:00

The break gave me time to recharge a bit and I thought I was ready to take back up the load the next morning. The day started well; David called and was very excited because they had told him he would be going home the following day. I said this was great and that I would see him that evening, but in my mind a hundred things began to flit around. I tried to pin one down: I needed to get his room finished - clean floor - make the bed up with new bedding - we needed to put up the hunting rifle - where should we take it - the pills - where would I keep the pills. My mind was busied with a list of things that must be accomplished before he came home - and so I managed to push out a rising panic about his homecoming. But slowly as the busy day passed something began to take over - a rising river of fear inch by inch began to seep into my awareness. The fear felt primitive and overwhelming - it urged me to run - to run fast, far, far away. It wasn't till the drive home from the hospital that evening that I realized what I so feared - it was the crushing responsibility of caring for a possibly suicidal son - Half of me wanted nothing more than to have him safe under our roof - to have that comforting physical proximity - but would he be safe? And if he wasn't whose fault would that be? And I knew right then how much my life, not only my son's had been altered irreparably - for a could not fool myself into believing that anyone else, not even my husband, who was himself on mental thin ice, could or would carry this burden. It was like bringing home that first fragile infant and knowing that whatever may come, when you boiled it down to the core; I could look at this fellow human whose fate is primarily, with God's help, in my hands and say, well it's you and me against the world, kid. To Be Cont.

13# The Light, the Vent, and the Rock

2005-05-11T05:44:00.000-07:00

You know I have always believed in mother's intuition; it probably saved my son that fated night in January and I'm sure it often lead my mom to call me when I most needed it. She did so on that day, as I waded around in a mire of faded anger, hopelessness, and growing apathy. When I explained what had occurred on the phone, she paused and then as always came up with just the right words. Well you know, you are his vent; he needs someone that he can share these tough emotions with and obviously he is not opening up to the staff up there. He trusts you and knows that you will love him no matter what he says; you are his vent. But I would say that it would be good for you to take a break today - you do not want to break down in front of him - why don't you see if Nicole (name changed for privacy) could take the other kids with her to visit tonight. Feeling much better I got off the phone and decided it would be good to take an evening off; I called my oldest daughter and she agreed to make the trip herself. After work I sat with my husband trying to relax; I knew that I had to let myself heal a bit so that I could help David (name changed for privacy) - but I spent most of the time jumping to get the phone every time it rang - afraid that something would be wrong - I shouldn't have worried - the kids took him a large meal from Taco Bell and they had a great visit - a lesson all caregivers need to learn is that it is OK to let someone else help - you not only can, but need to give yourself time to recharge - that night as I lay in bed sleepless, as I had been for a week - I suddenly laughed - actually laughed - the first time since the suicide attempt - my husband rolled over and asked me what was so funny - "It's just that Mom the other day said that I had to be the light in the dark - then my aunt said that I was certainly the rock that the family depended on, and just today Mom said I had to be David's vent - I was thinking it sure is hard to be the Light, the Rock, and the Vent - I wonder if I could hire someone to take over the position" My husband looked as if I too was losing it - "I don't think so" - "No, I suppose not" I sighed "The problem would be getting anyone to apply!" To be cont.

Important Additions

2005-05-07T19:03:00.000-07:00

Sorry its been so long since I posted, but I have been working on some exciting changes to the blog - I am adding two new pages - one about resources: books, movies, websites, etc. - the other dealing with news - you can access the pages through the links to the right - I have added the Resources link today and will add the News link soon - I hope you enjoy the new additions!

12# Shattered Glass

2005-05-02T05:49:00.000-07:00

Morning brought a new prospective - I felt my energy creeping back and I was able to at least plan for the day. After work my daughter was going to drive me up to the hospital and until then I tried to concentrate on getting prepared for class - I had been sleepwalking through my classes the week before so I felt that I had better get my act together. Then the phone call came in - it was my son, obviously tremendously agitated - "mom, get my out of here - right now - I mean it - I'm not going to any more of their stupid group sessions" - I attempted to calm him down - "it will only be for a bit longer - the more you cooperate the faster you will get out - remember you are there to get help." His voice rose in decibal "help - this place isn't helping me - it is making me crazy - mom, please come get me!" By now I had started crying, but I didn't want him to know "I can't do that son, you must stay till they say you are better" - then he really lost it "you won't get me out of here - well then I'll find a way to kill myself - I'll throw myself out the window - I'll smother myself with the pillow" Something about this hit me like a full slap to the face - I geuss I had a lot of anger, as well as sadness in me and it came bursting out, cascading down into the phone and across the miles - it was boiling water, rolling and frothing "you're not the only one who could kill themselves and I have many more implements here" - it was out before I could take it back - why did I say that - why was it up to me to deal with this - I gripped the phone till my hand hurt - he hung up and I sat there in a fit I can't adequately describe - it all felt so unfair - why? why? I sobbed - I had the terrible desire to grab a bat and break every window out of the house howling out the pain and the anguish - if I couldn't break something I was sure I would break - instead I sat alone racked with sobs, pouring out my fury in sound instead of action - I finally relaxed my death grip on the phone and hung it up - immediately it rang "mom, I'm sorry - could you bring up my acne medicine and Arby's" - I got out ok and he hung up - I was left shaking and weak - drained of the anger, but also all energy and will - it didn't make sense "how could someone say they were going to kill themselves and then the next minute be worried about their acne and food - I myself felt that I would not ever want to eat again - and I knew that somehow I had to drag myself up and go to class. To be cont.

11# Rolling Waters

2005-04-28T05:22:00.000-07:00

I should have woke up the next day feeling great - after all I had made progress the day before and my son had seemed better - but for some reason that Sunday I arose flat - I felt drained and useless - I felt ashamed, but I really didn't want to go back to the hospital - of course, I made myself get ready - and as I showered I cried - but this time they were selfish tears - I wept for myself, for a life that had been torn assunder, all the usual daily tasks thrown to the wind. Some Sunday's I did get up and go to church - most Sunday's I fixed a big meal and spent the day resting and grading papers, preparing for the week ahead - perhaps of all other days of the week it was Sunday that was the most predictable for me - and so I suppose that is why I felt so down -and it was still raining - the downpour had decreased to a drizzle - but that did not nothing to alleviate the gloom outside or in my soul - My mom drove me up again and no doubt noticing my depression she tried to bring me back up - she is the best at bringing a positive viewpoint - at being that light in the dark - but perhaps I needed for one day just to let myself feel miserable for myself, for my changed life and my awareness of a new crushing responsiblity that would descend upon me the day my son walked out of that ward. I tried to put on a false cheery face during the visit so I wouldn't bring my son down and it did seem to work - he was very entranced with the new medicine rispardal and how it made him dream strange dreams - dreams that he couldn't quite seperate from real memory - I suggested that perhaps they should increase the dose again - it seemed somewhat dangerous to not be able to sort out in one's mind what is a dream and what is real. Numb and distant, I managed to get through - I hugged him at the end - almost breaking down - this was so unfair for him - for me - for everyone - why was it that my son was in a psychiatric ward - I must have failed - I held him tight and in my mind whispered "I'm sorry" - In a daze I walked to the car - "No, I didn't want to go in anywhere to eat" On the way home my tears dribbled out like the rain drizzled outside - I didn't have energy for a downpour. The rivers were going down a bit, but were still flooded - as we drove over one - I stared at the rolling, nuddy water and had the strange sensation of falling, of cold water pulling me ever on, drowning my sorrows and pain - so easy it would be - just to let go. For the first time I understood in a way my son's decision that night - some pain is unbearable - it can seem much easier to let life slide away and fall into those drowning, rolling waters. To be cont.

10# Connection!

2005-04-25T07:29:00.000-07:00

We went shopping between the visiting hours for my son some new bedding - my plan was to spruce up his room before he got home to further cheer him up and hopefully help him start fresh - we found him a nice duvet set and sheets in black red and gray to match his favorite possession, his i-pod. After picking him up another huge dinner I went in for the evening visit - he wasn't waiting so I walked to his room - he was meeting one of the staff members and although I felt a bit guilty I couldn't help pausing outside for a moment - my son was explaining that he had been working in his book and that the risperdal did seem to be working but that he had heard a strange conversation while taking a shower - the conversation consisted of two men discussing the fact that another man had fallen off a ship - the staff member did not comment and feeling worse now for evesdropping I went to sit down in the lounge till the man came out - my son seemed very happy to see me and the massive amount of Mexican food, his favorite - I asked casually how the rest of his day had been and he surprised me in two ways - first he repeated the story about the voices - I assured him that when they increased the dose of risperdal, which they were going to do that evening the voices would probably go away - of course I was winging it here - this was all new territory - then he showed me the journal - in it he had added a poem to match mine - of all the literature and poetry I have read and treasured through my life this simple poem was more beautiful to me than it all - for it represented a connection back to my son - in it he spoke of the pain of being stuck in the hospital and how he wanted to be back with home with his family and friends and most importantly how he knew that I was there for him - I tried to hold back the tears - this time from happiness and the rest of the visit went well. To Be Cont.

9# Just Before Dawn

2005-04-22T08:33:00.000-07:00

The next morning I awoke shaky, weak, and determined. I thought about my son's words the night before "this is my life now" - though I could not, would not let myself believe the hopelessness of that phrase I did know that life as we had known it had changed forever. Instead of spending the rest of my time crying and in despair I had to find a way to cope and to improve the situation the best I could. I had to somehow find a way to connect with my son, to comfort him and let him know that my love had never wavered - I remembered finding among his things, not only copied lyrics, but also what appeared to be his own verse. Since I had always used writing myself as a way to release and deal with emotions - I decided to purchase my son a journal - I would begin the first entry with a poem of my own and hopefully he would respond in turn. It was Saturday so there were two seperate visiting hours. My mom drove up - I ran into Wallmarts for a journal. The following is the poem that I wrote on that first page.
When darkness comes
And all seems lost
Find the glimmer
In the void - I am there

When swirling waters
Pull you down - down
Look for the hand
To pull you up - I am there

When demons circle
And grasp your soul
Rememeber a mother's love
Will never end - I am there
When I got to the hospital my son was in a better mood - he did complain about going to group sessions, but he had met a girl who he liked talking to and he was very happy with the large meal I had brought - his appetite seemed to be enormous and they explained that they had started him on risperdal, an antipsychotic, and one of the usual side effects was increased appetite - at the end of the visit I brought out the journal and in a non pressured way suggested that perhaps he would like to write some of his thoughts down - he nodded in a noncommital manner and it was time to leave till evening - I gave him a hug and this time he hugged back, holding on for a long moment; "I love you mom" he whispered - those simple words were like the sun rising after a particularily dark night - I left in the lightest mood that I had been in all week -To be cont.

8# Let it Be

2005-04-19T19:48:00.000-07:00

On the way home the rain seemed to come down even harder. Water rushed against the car, now more of a boat. I attempted to get myself together - but it was as if all the stress and pain up to that point was gushing out with as much force as the rain slashing against the windshield. My girls tried to cheer me up -they used my son's ipod, which he was not allowed to have in the hospital to play songs to lighten the mood - nothing helped. Then they clicked on the Beatle's "Let it Be" - I've never been a huge fan, but something about that song spoke to me that night - The words that Mary spoke when faced with the tremendous responsiblility of carrying God's son in a strange way comforted me - the great responsiblity of dealing with a mentally ill child was not my decision - but I too could say or sing in this case "Let it Be" and bow to God's will - I had the girls play that song over and over and although I was still crying when we arrived home, my tears had decreased to a mere trickle - That night before crawling exhausted into bed, I got on my knees to pray - I let out all the immense grief that I could not overcome and I prayed for my poor son who I knew suffered even more than me - "Please God let me take on his pain. Please take it away from him - cripple me - humble me -destroy me if you must - just please, Oh Lord take away the terrible darkness on his soul!" I prayed as I never had before from the very depths of who I was as a human, as a mother and I meant every word. To be cont.

7# The Darkest Hour

2005-04-15T20:33:00.000-07:00

That evening my two daughters and myself started out for the hospital - the journey began to seem almost biblical, for the unusually heavy January rain had continued - it felt like the sky had opened up to weep with me. Many rivers and small streams were flooding - the highway had become like the bridges to the Keys, just a ribbon of land between lapping flood waters. We had to detour several times due to road closings and after picking up my son's request for Wendy's we were running quite late - visiting hours only lasted a couple of hours so I was worried that he would be waiting impatiantly - he was near the door when we came in - following him into his room I, for the first time noticed the lack of privacy - all the rooms were open to a common room - no doors - which of course, I reminded myself made sense - they did, after all have to monitor the patient's every move - I had moderate hope that the visit would go well as my son gulped down his food and then started to describe some of the things he had done that day - but things went down hill from there - he suddenly sounded to me like the twelve year old perfect student he had once been - so eager to please - "this is my workbook I fill out in group" - he handed it around for our perusal - the situation became bizarre to me as I looked at the list of his possible diagnosis - a long list - he laughed "I have more on that list than any one else in the group" the last word caught and within a second he had collapsed on the bed - curling up in fetal position he began to sob - a sob that seemed full of all humanities' pain and despair. I have known parents who have lost a child - brothers and sisters who have lost a sibling - yet I had never heard anything that compared with those hopeless sobs. "So this is my life now" he said as he tried unsuccessfully to get himself together - I exchanged glances of complete shock and uncertainty with my daughters. Ironically although I had carried the child on the bed in my womb seventeen years before, I had no idea how to comfort him - but I tried. I sat down and tentatively put my arm around him - it did stop his sobs but not in the way I had imagined - he straightened up and went rather rigid, pulling away "it's your fault I'm here Mom - you should have let me die." What do you say to something like that? - I can't remeber my exact words - something about how I loved him so - and then I mumbled on about how everything is meant to be - he stood up and said, "well it's about time you go - I'll walk you to the door" -our visit had only lasted a half hour. We then exchanged pleasantries as if with a stranger and we walked back out into the pouring rain. To be cont.

Great Website

2005-04-13T21:09:00.000-07:00

I did want to again interrupt the narrative to suggest a great website www.bpkids.com The site's main focus is bipolar disorder in children and teens, but the information and the support groups and chat can be a help to any parent dealing with their child's mental illness, whether the diagnosis is bipolar or not. I have signed up for one of the support groups and have found the comfort and wisdom an instant help.

6# Into a Well of Darkness

2005-04-12T09:14:00.000-07:00

The next day I awoke with every intention of being positive - I realized that I couldn't help my son if I did not work on my own emotional health - but knowing and doing are two different things. I went into his room to clean - so he could get a fresh start when he got home and also to search for clues - hints of what nightmare led me to this day. I found more clues than I could handle - a poem he wrote the night of the attempt about darkness, death and hopelessness. In his passbooks from school I read a trail of breadcrumbs into madness - a year before the only entries were about schoolwork or girls - he even answered most of the interesting fact questions at the bottom of the pages - but then bit by bit disturbing images and dark song lyrics began to arise - tons of allusions to every drug under the sun and to insanity and death. I fell apart again - my good attention drained out as I sat on my son's floor. My mother called about then and hearing despair in my voice tried to comfort, to encourage - she told me that I needed to be a light in the darkness - that my son was living in total darkness right now and that I was his only hope for light - that light always overcome darkness and that I must pick myself up again. Somehow I did get off that floor - I didn't get much cleaning done - but I did get in the shower and get ready to travel to the hospital - wringing light out of the deepest part of my soul - hoping it would be enough to fight the darkness I knew I would be facing. To Be Cont.

5# Who Is This Boy?

2005-04-08T08:17:00.000-07:00

The next day I again made the trip to the hospital in a mental fog. Worn out physically and emotionally I had to keep telling myself that I could stay strong - that I had to for my son. I didn't take my husband, who was emotionally a wreck from the recent deaths of first his brother and then his nephew - I knew that he would break down and that is not what my son needed. And so my mom drove me - I didn't feel competant just them to drive so far. I will never forget the moment I first walked into that ward. My son met me at the desk with a forced grin, but I didn't know him - that sounds terrible, but although the boy in front of was my son physically - he didn't seem in any other way to be the son I had known for almost seventeen years. His eyes had a vacant, yet haunted look, like the eyes of a wild animal in a closed cage. He began to mutter immediately "Mom get me out of here - I don't belong here - I'm going crazy in here." His voice was low, but somehow forceful - it carried threats of unknown horrors. I tried to comfort telling him that it would only be for a little while and this was where he would get the help he needed. He continued to smile - but his eyes didn't change - my beloved son was nowhere to be seen. Then came the meeting with the social worker - I ended up - despite my best intentions - crying again - I kept repeating "but he was the best of sons, how could this happen?" Intellectually I knew of course that mental illness can strike anyone - that intelligence, a loving family, good friends can not protect you. But still it seemed unreal - in my mind I kept seeing the straight A, quiet, caring perfectionist - it was as if I couldn't except that the wild eyed disturbed boy was truly my own son. After speaking alone for a while the counciler brought in that wild eyed boy and I learned that I hadn't even begun to understand the real terror of that he and now I was dealing with - he told of voices - of a voice commanding him to do things that he knew was wrong - that commanded him to kill himself because he was worthless. My illusion of a deep depression, which could be overcome, began to fade - I became physicall ill - sick at my stomauch and weak - I wanted to run out of there into the sane world outside and never come back . Before I left that day the wild eyed boy told me "Mom, I mean it, get me out - or I'll find a way to kill myself" - I walked out in a fractured haze half believeing that when I got home my real son would be there playing video games and this would have been only a terrible dream ... To be cont.

Another great site

2005-04-07T20:57:00.000-07:00

I found another great website with both general information, lists of resources and even pamphlets and information pages that you can order for free - http://www.mentalhealth.samhsa.gov is a government site that covers a broad range of mental health topics. Besides basic facts, statistics,etc. there is a lot of information about the rights of the mentally ill and services that are available. A plus is also the extensive list of we links.

4# Where No Light Can Shine

2005-04-06T20:17:00.000-07:00

For anyone who has never had a child in a psychiantric ward - it cannot be truly imagined - when we arrived that first night I had been awake for more than thirty six hours and my mind and thought was scattered in the storm that we drove through to get there - It was raining as it would in a summer downpour, but it was January in the Midwest and the rain didn't stop. Somewhere in the night it seemed that my soul had merged with the rain and I poured and poured out - perhaps there would be no ending. The nurse who helped me fill out the paperwork brought me out of my numbness a bit - as she spoke about rules and regulations - of all the items I couldn't bring my son because he could find a way to kill heimself with them - some of the stark reality began to seep in and I broke down and cried and though I was ashamed I couldn't stop - the nurse understood - I'm sure she had seen it many times before.
One of the hardest things I have ever done was leave him there that night - all I wanted to do was lay down and hold him in my arms, cradle him as I did when he was a baby - but I had to walk away and abandon him to that alien place - so different from the normal world at home that now appeared just a dream. To be Cont.

Just a note

2005-04-05T20:13:00.000-07:00

Though right now I'm focusing on telling our story - I do want to interrupt to mention things that come up that I hope will help other parents - I have added a link, schizophrenia.com, which I found to be a most comprehensive site about the disease - it is loaded with information on details about the illness - advice for family members and has an extensive list of further resources

3# All the world turned upside down

2005-04-05T19:50:00.000-07:00

I've never been an insomniac - in fact its rare that I make it past 10:30 - yet after the kids went to bed the night of January 4th - I just could not settle in to sleep - something kept nagging at my mind - and my mind turned back to my son's goodnight - something seemed wrong. I finally gave up on sleep and went down to work on the computer, which is outside my son's room. I tried to work on the next days' lecture, but I couldn't concentrate - at last feeling a bit foolish to be checking on my sixteen year as I did when he was two, I went into his room - just to check - and there on the table was a notebook with a suicide note - picking it up I still could not really believe it - not our son - why? - But quickly adrenalin and panic set in and hurrying to his bed I pulled my lethargic son up - already falling into a drugged confusion he kept repeating "just let me go to sleep, let me go to sleep"
The rest of the night is a blur in my memory - the rush into the hospital - the doctor's questions - the lights that seemed so bright - shining glaringly on our tragedy - on what I was beginning to feel was my failure in motherhood - the stomauch pump - the moment where intensive care was considered - and the numbness creeping in as we waited for someone else's decisions about what was next - doctors and social workers - whispers of illnesses I only knew by name - and then the news came - our son needed to be in a psychiatric ward - but there were only two for adolescents in out state both two hours away - and so we chose and the new world - a world turned upside down began. To be cont...

2# A bit about our story

2005-04-04T06:11:00.000-07:00

Eight months ago I, as so many of whom fate is about to crash down upon, was oblivious to any coming tragedy, going about my busy life as a mother of four, ages 21, 16, 14 and 12, working as a part time college instructor at the local university, and occasionally working on my dream of become a writer. Oh! how innocent I was to true suffering. I never suspected that my shining star of a son was slowly falling into the depths of madness. A straight A student, who most years had perfect attendance, he had never once been in trouble at school. Compared to his more outgoing siblings, he was a quiet and subdued child. who prefered reading books to playing sports. He had tried out a couple of times for the basketball team, but didn't make it. Knowing, I thought his nature, I didn't think it had bothered him that much. And then it seems bits by bits things began to change. Looking back now I can see all the signs that I missed, but when you are in the middle of living a busy life, things slip by. My straight A junior began to get into some trouble. I caught him drinking in the summer and then smoking marijuana. Coming from the end of the hippie age and no innocent myself, I thought it was just a stage. After all, I reasoned, everyone needs to sow their wild oats. When things began to really get out of hand, we began punishing my son, grounding him, taking away his car, etc. He began to become someone I didn't know, agitated, angry, anxious. He finally told me that the reason that he was drinking was because he thought everyone was looking at him when he went out, and that he had started to have anxiety attacks. I took him to our family doctor who prescribed Zoloft - and he asked the question of the times "have you ever thought of hurting yourself or commiting suicide?" My son said no. Things improved for awhile, and then seemed to take a dire turn. He got suspended from school for drinking at a ballgame - it killed his grades and all his dreams of being the valdictorian. He said he didn't care - but deep down he did - he began to pull away from his friends - when I pressed him about it he said his anxiety had gotten worse. I took him back to the family doctor. He gave him Klonopin. It was Christmas and my son seemed happy - but later I realized that I was so busy I missed many signs - his smiles were a mask of the pain he felt inside. On January 4th 2005, his sister's 15th birthday he took his whole bottle of Kolonopin and anything else he could find in the cabinet, came and hugged us goodnight, said he loved us, and went to bed to die. If it wasn't for mother's intuition, or divine intervention, my son would have succeeded. To be con.

1# And so we Begin

2005-04-03T14:35:00.000-07:00

When lost in a sea of doubt, grief, and pain, the distance to a safe port can seem insurmountalbe. To a parent of a mentally ill child, particularily if the illness came on suddenly - it can feel like the doomed Titanic voyage. One moment you're in the world of comfortable normalcy - the next you are flailing in an unfathomable sea of uncertainty. The trip back to solid ground can be long and painful, and some never return. This is the story of my continueing struggle to reach that safe port.