Dr. Spock's kid wasn't Bipolar!

p39. Life lessons for grown parents.

2010-09-30T17:31:00.004-04:00

God teaches us a simple lesson; a parent can learn the value of life by how much they are needed by their children.

This thought occurred to me while I sat for hours, watching my baby restrained to a hospital bed after an accidental overdose of sleeping pills, alcohol and psych medication.

Oddly enough; a parent can also learn the value of life by how much they think about their children.

This thought occurred to me when realizing adults and parents have heartbreaking battles to fight of their own; they can feel bruised by hospital restraints, they are just not bound by them.

p38.And so it goes...

2009-04-10T01:27:00.004-04:00

This year has turned out to be one of unforeseen challenges. Sometimes you wonder if the last 24 years might not have been a practical training course for now – now when you seem to feel a bit of what it must be like to be ostracized by many for an aspect of your life that is different or not in their realm of understanding.

I’ve watched many years go by, especially during the birthday party years–were Da was home because there wasn’t an invitation hanging on the refrigerator, but a frown on her face, with a stare to nowhere. It was a such a hard thing to deal with–these lack of invitations, it would tear your heart out to watch your daughter totally confused about why she was always excluded. But then you would understand because of the behavior she might act out or even yet, she may be the one who takes control and takes the other kids with her–you knew/prayed it was never a case of “tic tock the games locked”. Actually you would find yourself feeling sorry for the parents of the birthday child, just hoping it was truly a difficult decision for them to make, and one they did not make lightly.

Do you wonder where you fall – which parent would you have been for your child’s birthday parties?

• The parent that crosses that name off the invitation list – mindlessly, just thinking of the

“things you have heard”?

• Perhaps the parent that talks with their child about the situation and better yet, all of their own family before making a decision?

• Maybe the parent that actually has the respect to call and talk to the special needs child’s parents about how to handle the party quandary?

Would you stop during your child’s party and think about the one that wasn’t there for even a brief second? I’ve learned it is certainly not hard to be invisible, especially when you’ve had 24 years of practice.

I can/could only imagine how incredibly hard it was for a young girl to deal with such rejection, I’m sure Da questioned her self worth often. Those of us who know her best and love her forever, they know, they know she is okay and they know she may need her space sometime to just leave it all behind, examine what’s next or just understand how to deal with the challenges on her plate, and importantly stay well doing so. We keep a watch from a far.

All of the ups and downs her father and I have been experiencing getting the "shorter", "friendlier", "less expensive" divorce, for over a year now (yes that was sarcasm), has been dealt with very differently between us. Maybe it’s just a guy/girl thing.

The worse has been the party invitations on the refrigerator – one gets them, one does not, I guess this is how it goes. I guess the devastation that really hits home to anyone with an issue that people may not fully understand or recognize, is how hard it is to understand why they are now treated differently by a person, or why they even feel as they do?

Everyone has people in their life they know are supporting, and I’m sure those people get very frustrated when calls and emails aren’t returned, to the point of giving up. Don’t give up, sometimes when people just see a name on the ID or mail software, they at least know there is a sincere thought behind the line of type that says they care, and hopefully they know the space needed maybe way to long, but it will come to a stop at some point.

If the invitation isn’t on the refrigerator, why not ask the child to come play another day for lunch and let them put that on their calendar, or “let them get back to you”!

So many things just run parallel, one lesson will always teach you another, especially if you take a moment to consider your actions or those of others.

One song might be “Happy Birthday to you”, the other “Jesus take the Wheel”.

Blessed Easter!

p37. Deleted Comment

2008-12-11T20:59:00.006-05:00

In a comment left on p32., a person named Dr. Michael, said…

“Bipolar disorder is not a single disorder, but a category of mood disorders characterized by the presence of one or more episodes of abnormally elevated mood, clinically referred to as mania. Individuals who experience manic episodes also commonly experience depressive episodes or symptoms, or mixed episodes in which features of both mania and depression are present.”

Dr. Michael went on to put a link to an unrelated drug site, which is not appropriate nor acceptable on this blog. Because of this I have deleted his comment.

I thought his clinical assessment warranted a bit more human speak, so I visited NAMI because some of what he mentions are episodes used for identifying the course of bipolar, not the types/classifications.

The 4 types of Bipolar disorder are classified from the DSM-IV—Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fourth Edition published by the American Psychiatric Association, research by the National Institute of Mental Health, these articles also use interviews with leading bipolar experts.

I will put the excerpts of these articles in italics. My added comments will just be in plain type.

The following are 2 of the 10 Myths (you can find the full articles on NAMI's website):

“Top 10 Myths about Bipolar Disorder”: by John McManamy

2. Bipolar disorder is a mood disorder.

Half true. Bipolar disorder certainly affects mood, but it also affects cognition and the ability to perform mental tasks. Some days we can out-think Stephen Hawking. Other days we make Forrest Gump look like an intellectual.

3. Yes, but bipolar disorder is still a mood disorder.

Granted, but for most of us it is also part of a package deal that may include anxiety, substance and alcohol abuse and sleep disorders. Also, researchers are finding smoking guns linking the illness to heart disease, migraines and other physical ailments.

Bipolar disorder certainly affects mood, but it also affects cognition and the ability to perform mental tasks. Some days we can out-think Stephen Hawking. Other days we make Forrest Gump look like an intellectual.
The above information was mainly accredited to:

HealthCentral's Bipolar Connection at www.bipolar-connection.com

I thought one of the articles at NAMI, covered the classifications of Bipolar, in an understandable fashion. If you have been following this blog about raising Da, you know, she without question–has Bipolar 1.

I have edited some text that refers to another section of the article not mentioned here and have added to some paragraphs to keep the content from two articles flowing.

"The many faces & facets of BP"

By Michelle Roberts
From "bp Magazine", Summer 200

Bipolar I

This is the most severe type of bipolar disorder and the classic type. A diagnosis of Bipolar I requires at least one full-blown manic episode some time during a person's life that doctors cannot attribute to another cause, such as a medication or substance abuse. The manic episode must last at least one week, or be serious enough to require hospitalization or cause functional impairment in some aspect of a person's life (marriage, career, finances, etc.). Interestingly, a major depressive episode is not required to be diagnosed with this form of bipolar disorder, but it is almost always present and usually even much more common than the manic episodes.

Note: most of us, (well I did), think of depression as a form of sadness and suicide – I always thought people who were depressed were experiencing the end of the world–without hope. It was certainly understandable when I first learned, that it also includes:

• restlessness and irritability

• inability to concentrate or make decisions

• either an elated, happy mood or an irritable, angry, unpleasant mood

are all considered depressive episodes.

Excuse my language, but when thinking of a woman - how many of us thought, this was just a blond bitch?

Bipolar II

Most experts agree that there are versions of bipolar disorder that don't produce full mania, yet respond very well to mood-stabilizing medications. People whose symptoms fit this category are often diagnosed with Bipolar II, sometimes called "soft" bipolar. According to Dr. Ghaemi, the primary difference between Bipolar I and Bipolar II is that the manic symptoms of the latter are not severe enough to cause functional impairment.

Cyclothymic Disorder

Sometimes called "bipolar lite," this diagnosis requires multiple depressive and hypomanic episodes not extreme enough to warrant a diagnosis of Bipolar I or II. In some cases, depression and mania occur simultaneously, resulting in a state of chronic irritability. A person's symptoms must last for at least two years with no more than two months of stable mood during that time.

Bipolar NOS (Not Otherwise Specified)

This form of bipolar requires manic or depressive episodes that doctors can't categorize as unipolar depression. The episodes also can't fit into any of the other bipolar categories. The Bipolar NOS label often applies in the following circumstances:

• Rapid mood fluctuations intense enough to qualify as manic, hypomanic, or depressive, but that don't meet the duration requirements for a Bipolar I, Bipolar II, or Cyclothymic disorder diagnosis
• Hypomania without depression
• Mania or Cyclothymic disorder that occurs simultaneously with schizophrenia, psychotic disorder NOS, or delusional disorder (a disorder characterized by psychoses, hallucinations, and delusional thinking)
• Chronic depression or dysthymia (long-term, low-level depression) accompanied by hypomanic episodes.

Dr. Ghaemi suggests that this category also be used for persons with recurrent severe depression (but no clear hypomania) who also experience manic or hypomanic periods only with antidepressant use, or who have family members diagnosed with bipolar disorder.

Dr. Michael (who left the comment on this Blog), seems to refer to a "mixed" MANIC episodes, here is the definition from the article…

A mixed state is when symptoms of mania and depression occur at the same time. During a mixed state depressed mood accompanies manic activation.

Diagnosis of mixed states is most likely to be made after a patient fails to respond to outpatient treatment, or becomes worse on antidepressant medications and is subsequently admitted to the hospital for closer observation. This state is found in BP I, II, and is not considered a classification of BP.

There are also episodes known as rapid cycling... that are also, not considered a separate type of BP; it is a descriptor of the course of bp.

Sometimes individuals may experience an increased frequency of episodes. When four or more episodes of illness occur within a 12-month period, the individual is said to have bipolar disorder with rapid cycling. Rapid cycling is more common in women.

I hope some of you found this technical information to help you understand this complex illness.

Some people, in all families, tend to stick their heads in the sand and not learn about what it means to be Bipolar. They rather look for snake oils or herbs from far away places to fix it. As I have always heard "you have to know how to drive a car, before you can park it!", maybe they didn't receive this wisdom in their past.

I think after living with Da for 23 years, and watching her grow into young adulthood, the quote from John McManamy has become a good summation of–well at least a part of her illness:

“…it also affects cognition and the ability to perform mental tasks. Some days we can out-think Stephen Hawking. Other days we make Forrest Gump look like an intellectual.”

Admittedly, I am not an Einstein either.

so like me...

2008-11-13T12:47:00.005-05:00

Lilly, Phyllis, Judy, Jan, Jennifer, Sharon and Ted - these are folks I know well and treasure their support and thoughts. I'm afraid life gets a bit overwhelming and I don't tell them this near enough.

You know, those kind of friends you don't have to talk to everyday - but when you do, you feel like you have.

Bless You!

p36. a loss for words.

2008-11-13T11:42:00.002-05:00

It's hard, the older my daughter gets, the more complex the situations, thus the harder it has become for me to write her journey.

Granted, many situations I have referenced previously have been complex - yet in their own unique way, they have had a nucleus of characters that are more intimate in their own experiences with Da.

As she physically moves (not impulsively), the nucleus grows and the geography changes, ultimately the mother is not there to check out the cast of characters. In my case and opinion, Sherlock Holmes is still a very necessary skill for mothers to keep in their back pockets no matter the age of the investigated.

I’m sure you have heard the old adage "you need to let them go", which is mainly used for raising kids, and, again, mainly given to the mother for valued advise, but it never gives them the logic nor logistics to deal with the issues that will undoubtedly present themselves, especially to mothers/parents/caretakers of special needs kids.

Basically, this long windbag post is trying to say, the last few months have been very odd and I’m not sure yet how to translate the events into human speak.

Know that all are well and breathing, in fact they are on their way back to our geographical area to slip into their familiar cell (I should say nucleus instead of being broad, since I my have implied the Justice Center – which is not the case).

Prayers are always welcome and pretty much needed!

Oh, and “you need to let them go”… where does it say who’s supposed to respond to the 22 text messages everyday?

p35. Let's Change the tune.

2008-06-30T01:21:00.002-04:00

When I was reading through some of the more current post, I was so surprised how focused I was on Da's music... snooze for many people! But one more song and this one is not by her, but just think of the "Blues".

I asked Da’s therapist a question one day, and she didn’t know how to answer it – and I am not sure if she could find someone who could.

You often hear about the divorce rate among parents when they lose a child, but what about parents who have raised a severely mentally ill child? Do the everyday stresses and the really big ones wear out the “for better and worse, for sicker and poorer” statements in your vows?

Da’s dad and I are in the process of getting a Collaborative divorce, she knows she is not the reason, but she also knows what a stress on our marriage she has been.

In googling this subject, it seemed all that came up was the effects of children being raised by a mentally ill parent, or once again it was all about the mother and her illness.

Let’s face it mothers do take things differently verses fathers, it’s just a historical fact, but who’s right and whose wrong – I think this is where the trouble begins and the marriage can die.

Raising a bipolar kid has been an experience to say the least. One thing in their corner is that you understand they have an illness and their behavior is going to be different and so are the heart aches and heart throbs they will give you through out the years they are with you.

But because of legal reasons and out of respect for the victim, I cannot openly discuss another issue we have experienced. I think this is the one that did us in – not a sick child but the actions of another that were just so senseless it is hard to come to grips with.

I know this has changed me drastically; women do tend to think with their hearts and are a bit more protective. But when someone does something to a family member that is just awful and you can’t deal with what has happened, let’s face it – you can’t help but change.

I think as much as a victim can sufferer from PTSD, the circle around them can do so too. Now my husband believed when I would get in my depressed moods, in fact he just came out and said it one day… “It didn’t happen to you”, I thought that spoke volumes. For me anyway when someone I care and love so much that I would die for them suffers something, I suffer with them.

This creates stress beyond tension and you can end up just not liking each other very much.

I guess it's when you come to the decision that nothing is going to change how you feel about each other, so why bother living a lie, especially at our ages.

It’s a sad thing, it tears your heart out because of your children and it’s amazing how your pets affect you too – but I must say that Da in her infinite wisdom said it best…

“Mom, we are all grown and have our personalities, I really don’t think this will change them”.

I pray it doesn’t!

As for my husband and me, I pray it does.

One cannot imagine!

2008-06-12T01:34:00.004-04:00

It is with the greatest apologies... but at least I now have the opportunity to tell you I have been in a cave somewhere and without access to the Internet for eons!

Actually I'm opening an art center and have been busy redoing every room of a home (became a bait shop) from 1870.

www.esartcenter.net

I promise I'll be giving the Da updates soon... especially for a dear buddy in St. Louis!

p34. Beth – it’s not always about you!

2007-09-06T22:17:00.000-04:00

Please remember you are reading the most current post, the first in the random succession of this blog is listed on the right, Sept. 13th.

Often, well more than often I hear this statement – “Beth, geeze (better yet, insert expletive here) - it’s not always about you”, and honestly I am perplexed – perhaps it is because others see something in me that I don’t, something bad and irritating. Maybe it’s because of all the things I have been through as a mother of a special needs child, I tend to relate my experiences more, especially with more forceful authority, I also feel responsible – which my doctor describes as not having boundaries. No boundaries translates into one simple concept, everything becomes your fault.

Boundaries for moms of these special kids are not the idyllic picket fences that contain fluffy little dogs and happy little children – this is your neighbor’s house (possibly). Boundaries for moms like myself, is when the dog is sick – it’s because of something you’ve done – if the paint chips on the fence it because of the way you treated the yard, etc. Unfortunately it is not this simple.

I am not sure if all mothers of bipolar kids might experience this, but with a lack of boundaries mixed with guilt and a huge dash of over sensitivity you can have a very good recipe for someone that comes across as sounding like it’s always about them. But is it?

Have you ever checked out at the food market and found the cashier to be a bit snippy or sad? Have you ever felt it is your fault? Have you ever looked at someone who is a complete stranger and just knew they need your empathy and hugs because something just didn’t seem right? This all happens to me often.

Unfortunately it feels even worse when people judge this as a fault when they have no idea what’s behind the emotion. Sometimes mask are developed and when you are in a room of people that are either uncomfortable or overall not your cup of tea, you change colors as the chameleon I discussed earlier.

I had a mother come to my window at work and she was on her way to pick up her daughter from physical therapy. When she told me how far she had to drive, I asked if it would be intrusive for me to inquire why she goes so far away when we had a number of good facilities locally. She then proceeded to have tears rolling down her face as she described the tragic accident of her daughter becoming a quadriplegic through a diving accident.

After handholding and both of us crying, I asked how she was and what she was doing to help herself? When I came home and told my husband about it and how I also felt bad for this mother having to drive so far twice a day, daily - his response was just like the one above, “it’s not about the mother, it’s about the daughter”. I listened to what he said carefully. But I guess I am guilty as charged.

The daughter is utmost number one, but the mother – she has to been taken care of too, we have to think of her sacrifices too. I think she needs some “it’s about me, and be able to feel that’s OK without the judgment of others. She has a hard job now and ahead, and she loves the reason why more than anyone.

Her boundaries are now going to be miles and miles, I hope she doesn’t get so far away, but I do hope she stays close to herself, even though she will not be as close as the holding, rocking and hugging of her daughter. I think moms of special kids could use some “moming” themselves.

Sorry to be selfish, but hell yeah – it is about me sometimes, forgive me for being concerned and wanting to relate. Maybe this just isn’t the right way as I have said repeatedly…

But you know what, it’s all I have to give right now.

Oh to let you know I am thinking about Da, she was asked to get her ASCAP number for radio, but she is falling into a sever depression. Pray for her, I don’t need them right now... I’m just scared.

p33. Hard working girl - lets move on! (Sounds like a Country song!)

2007-08-21T21:53:00.000-04:00

Please remember you are reading the most current post, the first in the random succession of this blog is listed on the right, Sept. 13th.

Wow it has been a long time! Well it might just be simply that my mind has been running in circles about what to write.

Da finally found a job she loved, she was the day bartender for a local sport type bar – making good tips and developing a good customer base. Well it turns out she had splashed her black pants with a spot of bleach and after being told to get new pants, she did not, this led the one manager to release her of her employment. I think she is still crying about the whole thing. I was told she ripped the guy a new one and I can just imagine how nasty that must have been. This is the kind of information you wonder about... spot on the pants... hum?

Now here's a random thought brought to mind by lack of employment - did I tell you that she went without electricity for 6 months last year? I didn’t even know this. This day and age where the poor in the US have televisions, cell phones, DVD players etc., it really is surprising to see this kid who is actually financially strapped. Her benefits from the mental health court program, with the exception of her medication have pretty much run out, I really am amazed at all she deals with. Sadly after everything, I know she will not be invited to live with us.

Well back to the job situation… Like most suburban towns, ours has a main street that is a four-lane highway with every type off business you can imagine. You know the kind with 2 Starbucks with in 7 miles and repeated McDonald’s much closer. We have decided that it is Da’s goal along with her music to work her way up and down this whole street, you see with the exception of three jobs she has been employed by 12 businesses on this one thoroughfare. Unfortunately since she lost the one she truly loved she has (with in 3.5 weeks) been hired and quit 2 because she didn’t like it or as she said they didn’t give her enough hours. She still hasn't found anything, as you can guess this happened recently.

I am not really sure what the average number of jobs a person holds in the lifetime, but she certainly will be well rounded when she actually starts a chosen "career".

Ah career, the singing career – it is actually still moving along. This week Da will do one more recording, still in rough cuts, and we will go meet the next day with her mentor from Def Jam. I will finally get to ask a number of questions on how to proceed should she not fit there label, or one of the huge amounts of others that includes Def Jam. I am still amazed with her music, especially since they are still rough cuts. We are thinking that she might be asked this week to go ahead a “master” two of the tracs for submittal.

I did see a program with an eclectic group of guys from various boy bands, and they were talking about the perception that one hit song makes you rich, they said this is certainly not true – so I guess our cars might be a long time coming. Actually I am just hoping for a demo contract right now, where a label would cover the development, legalities and production of said demo.

Of course the fellow whom “My Dad’s so hot your Mom’s gonna want to meet him” is about, had a great idea, (now this is based on the fact that we have our fingers crossed that she doesn’t follow the path of a few other young ladies).

The idea…

He said “Da, why don’t you have a T-Shirt printed up that says… “I lasted longer in the big house than Paris!” and we are not talking about one of her mansions or parents hotels!

Rock on, well hip-pop on!

You can here some of the new added songs here:

Demo

Please refresh the page if you have visited before.

Oh... and she has changed the name to "The Sound of Sex", I am watching her finger nails!

p32. Are you in line for your sports car yet?

2007-03-08T12:40:00.000-05:00

These are the kind of pop-up thoughts the mother’s of bipolar children have when they are just driving around not really think about anything, these are the sad exhausting ones that are usually accompanied with a bit of normalcy.

Well I have firmly decided that nothing exists (exception - professional sport stars), with the incredible levels of people involved in one career (even just the hopeful) than those in vocal pop arts.

Between Managers, Labels, Publishers, ASCAP, Promoters, Internet, iTunes, Merchandising, Copyright, Engineers, “Beat” writers etc. and not to mention three very expensive attorneys – Contractual, Trademark/copyright and Intellectual property - that must review all above (which I hope and think the Label will consume once that happens if it does) how blessed most of us are just to have our two interviews the jobs we look into.

Let’s face it, Da has tunnel vision and the details above are overwhelming and mean nothing to her, so guess who is stuck with this! Yep, “Director Mom”, and the “My father is so hot your mother’s gonna want to meet him” guy. It’s been a real study with the help of a very dear friend who is leading us through the legal directions.

With her tunnel vision, comes this very fact, SHE IS ALREADY BRITINAY MINUS THE BALD LOOK! Fortunately, or unfortunately thinks Director Mom, she isn’t concerned with her virtue as Brittany was when first starting out – Da is just upset it wasn’t Justin Timberlake. A lot of this will take you back to her major first year in adulthood when Manic was just a 5-letter word.

She had her first club date, and she was really good. I was so proud of her I was the obnoxious mother cruising through the large club shouting, “hey that’s my daughter, isn’t she great! What do you think?” I think once they saw my earplugs and glass of wine, the “OK lady get away” look came to their faces. A few things Da failed to tell me (she did tell me it was college night) is she was opening for a popular Rap group that was pointed in a drive by shooting last year. Her manager in transition, meaning who wants to be, but we haven’t worked out the contract yet, swore to me that evening she would not be appearing with those type of groups again. He and Da coined the phrase Hip Pop© and his first direction is a few more clubs here then get her the heck out of town.

I am attaching a photo, mainly because I thought it was kind of funny that her rough “demo” is called “Broken” and check out her arm.

Anyway, her Def Jam records connection is taking the finally finished new song to the label with others to see if they can do a labeled demo, which is a step before signing, I think. Keep your fingers crossed again.

People in the public entertainment industry must be full of bipolar people; just the tenacity it would take to make it would require the extra bit of mania. You hear about some that supposedly have but it’s never confirmed, such as Robin Williams, then you really wonder about people who might have it with a sideline of a Board-Line personality disorder like Tom Cruise.

I remember the year I mentioned above when Da lost so much weight, down to a size 3, she had been working out, her hair looked great and she is already beautiful. This was the year she borrowed some guy’s car to run up the street for cigarettes and came back three days later after visiting NYC.

Then there was the time she borrowed the car to bring over her little sisters birthday gift. At this point she was driving without a license since it had been confiscated after a stolen credit card didn’t work for gas. When she pulled up, I have to tell you she looked gorgeous in this convertible with her shades on, but I also must tell you it was likely the most heartbreaking experience I have had in 21 years.

My youngest and I were standing in the yard and then zoom – three police cars with flashing lights come barreling down the street and actually do a Hollywood type of blocking her in, then handcuffing her before taking her to jail, I was crying loudly my daughter was crying silently, you know when you choke it back but the tears still roll down your face – much like I am doing now – not really sure if it’s all for Da or a lot for her sister - where is Moe?

This time the poor guy’s car was impounded, he must have been a very good friend, and I don’t know how long it took to get it back.

I do hope she is in a limousine having a driver and a manager that will really care should she make it - steering her in the right direction. If anyone becomes a star, there is still a mother crying out of joy or crying out of pain for the child.

I bet Brittany’s mom is desperately looking for a new driver.

Speaking of promotion, I do get a lot of notes about this site and just wanted to tell you it’s very easy to subscribe, just use the box on the right side, there are no lists or spam involved. If you were contacted, you will need to click on the orange icon and activate your subscription.

p31. Once a Mother always a Director!

2007-01-29T01:19:00.000-05:00

Well regarding the music career and life in general, Da’s certainly had a bit of everything this month.

I was thinking in the short span of 22 years, (for those of us raising a special needs kid) I have been a mother, a track star, a smooth it over politically correct neighbor. I have been a school advisor, a parental advisor, a TV advisor, a stage mother, a peace pleader, and an IEP, SBH, 504-plan specialist.

Since Da has entered young adulthood my specialties have also grown in importance. It has taken many years of experience and study with plenty of observation to carry these important titles in these later years. I have been an advocate, a person to relate with for other parents, I have become an unlicensed psychiatrist and pharmacist, not to mention social worker – over the past two years my focus went to my practice (un licensed) of mental health law, social services and state welfare which leads me too… the music business.

Hey, I sing with a church group – doesn’t that count? Granted we don’t drop the “f” bomb with the casualness of yawning amongst good friends, but we know a few things.

Da is supposed to do her first club experience in two weeks, but I must tell you what has transpired before we knew this; first she had her first upset, a development group decided not to work with her yet. They felt she needed a bit more time on developing in writing and singing… NOW, Ms. Director here would tell you it’s because she felt she had to rush and put some “hip-hop” tunes on her demo before they heard it - remember she wants to be the first white girl signed by Def Jam Records. (I’m sure I told you about when she wanted to be a little black girl and tore the carpet up to have dread locks for her hair).

She recorded these songs not only quickly, but also, not near the quality of the rough cuts on the demo link, and I’m afraid this made a big part of their discussion – hey but what do I know, I’m just a mom DIRECTOR. So we have been heated in our discussions about what songs to do in her first appearance. Granted I have not been to a club like one of these and really am blown away that there are often not even musicians, nor the fact that no one slow dances anymore, so I guess I do need to stop my arguing until I go check out the “scene”. I know nothing will bring down the house like when she sings her yet to be written “My Dad’s so Hot, you’re Mom’s gonna want to Meet Him!”

Our little hip-hop star will be hopping carefully on one hip though, not only has she had a spill that put her in a cast over her elbow, but last night she sent a door flying over her foot that sent her back to the hospital with another “stay off of it for…” She ripped off one of her nails. Ouch – I got a taste of the hip-hop today when I got a few “f” bombs and she got a few … “talk to me like that again…”

Let’s face it, I have been there for her first performances for years, the car pool for preschool were she dazzled everyone with “Oklahoma”, there was the Church festival karaoke when she was 5 and sang to the crowd “Like a Virgin”. There were the talent shows and family gatherings. There was a train ride in Toronto where she sang the score of "Phantom" for the rail car when she was 8. There was the group she sang with before the same show the following year with the New York cast. The one with just the local kids was right when she started Zyprexa, which causes huge weight gains, God love her – she came out for the final bow eating a Snickers bar. Ah, I could keep going but I am sure I have mentioned if not these, a number of others previously.

I would be lying to not say - if I haven’t already - how proud I am of her just keeping on with her music, it brings her comfort and me personally such joy.

I’ll have to admit, watching my beautiful baby up there on that stage one arm/legged with her microphone and her rap partner dropping is his “f” bombs will just make me as proud as punch. Now the old guy dancing in the middle of the room with the beer bottle on his head, you know – the one all the mom’s are gonna want to meet – we’ll just disown him that night.

Soprano’s your flat… be more mature! Sorry - old joke.

p30. Short but sweet, we hope…

2007-01-04T10:59:00.000-05:00

Let’s face it; it isn’t very often that opportunities of this magnitude present themselves.

Da’s demo cd is now complete and is being hand carried by a VP of an unnamed company today for review. Can we all say a prayer? I am not just being a mother here, but it really is good.

The scary thing for me is how thin she is now – I guess its part of the total package, but if you have read this blog for a period of time, you would understand my concern about weight.

I think my favorite statement regarding Da getting a recording contract is what her middle sister proclaimed – one evening I said, “Wouldn’t it be wild if she really gets a contract?” the middle sister’s reply, “Oh that would be great, our family business would be spread all over the front page of those trashy magazines every day”.

Sisters love… it’s so special.

Keep your fingers crossed, well while you’re at it… cross your eyes, your legs, your arms… ah what the heck – gather up all your friends and create a new form of Twister where everyone just lays on top of each other with their bodies crossing!

Remember my husbands Maserati depends on this, well after she writes the song, “My Dad’s so Hot, you’re Mom’s gonna want to Meet Him!

p29. If you had to give, just one, up…

2006-11-07T02:11:00.000-05:00

I had to repair some of the links, so please refresh your browser when you open the Demo. I am not sure if the picture will show up, she must be hiding down a tunnel or something!

For some reason, as they say in “The Sound of Music”, when God closes a door, he opens a window somewhere. This is so true of those with bipolar disorder.

Through all the pain, trials and tribulations of raising a kid like this, you seem to always look towards the end of the tunnel, or you can also look only at today. I must admit, I have always been one of the latter; it was her father that always could see through the tunnel.

I remember things like Da being such a cute kid that she modeled for a large retail store that was shot by one of the largest commercial photographers. I also remember the first job she was to do, she decided, instead of fashion she would go the “art” way. As I yelled up the stairs for her to get ready to leave, she seemed to be taking a bit of time; well actually it was way too much time. I am not talking about a teenager or even preteen, I think she was three.

So I went up to find her, and sure enough her artist abilities had the best of her and she had covered herself with a Bic pen, it was a summer shoot, we scrubbed like crazy. They called her back three or four times, her younger sisters modeled too, but I remember the youngest just pee’d in her sleeper and that was the end of their career. We still have the savings bonds, and lets face it, I was a lousy stage mom, remember, I only lived for the day – thus they never had clean shoes when the time arose.

Da was very much blessed with her aunt’s singing voice, really it is awesome – when she was younger we enrolled her in the summer accelerated class at our local university who has one of the best schools for theater. Her teacher after all had a song by Steven Sondheim that he wrote just for her. I think this was the first time I heard her formally sing. She did amuse the car pool with her rendition of “Oklahoma” on the way to preschool; amazingly she knew all the words. When she was in first grade we took her to see the “Phantom of the Opera” (which I strongly suggest you do NOT do, she was way to young), but we made a trip of it and traveled to Windsor and took a train to Toronto, it was a lovely trip, we were served an excellent meal and Da traveled up and down the aisle singing the songs she just fidgeted through.

If you close your eyes and listen to anything by Disney, you will here her, I thought she should do voice-overs for musical long animated film. While in grade school she would sing “Castle on a Cloud”, her sophomore year she sang “On my Own” and for her senior song it was “I dreamed a dream”. For some reason, I always felt what almost seemed to be a larger love for her when she was singing, I wish she would have used her tool more when she was younger, she had so many opportunities, but just didn’t take them and run. I pretty much gave up.

At the “what you would refer too as the Christmas program” that too place at the little “axe murder school”, I remember sitting in the audience listening to the students just being a bit wild since security was more lax and the teaches spread out a bit (they had two teachers for 5 kids per class, thank goodness this was covered by our local school system).

All of the sudden Da started to sing, and the place just got silent, I heard one “wow, she can sing”, I just set there crying like I always do.

After all the talk of her voice, her therapist finally took some time and went to see her when she preformed at our largest center for the arts. The therapist told me she couldn’t believe what she heard, she always heard us talk about how well she sang, but not this good. She also sat there crying, and then we both had a laugh thinking of if Da really made it, we would see her daily on the “National Enquire” as we checked out with our groceries.

Sometimes you really think the bipolar aspect of her life can take her further than most of us will try to go - she gets her mind set on something and doesn’t stop. Her “Thelma and Louise” year, she actually asked a friend if she could borrow their car – you know like she was running up to get some milk – well she came back a few days later ‘cause she needed to run up to NYC and visit some producer.

I think Brittany Spears kind of influenced her reality. She thought she became this huge star overnight. I keep trying to tell her how hard these kids had worked to get to these places, but no, she was just going to do it. Well I would like you all to say your prayers, because, well she just might have.

She met again with producers and they are taking her to the “label” in NYC after she completes 5 more songs on her demo, she not only has performed on these but also wrote them. I am so proud of her, but her father will have to go with her – the diva, pre performing/meeting nerves drive me crazy, and I want to get out the Bic pen and just color!

My therapist (all mom’s of special needs kids could benefit with someone to talk to, too) in all his wisdom looked at me one day and said…”if you had to choose, what would it be, no singing or bipolar disorder?” To this day, I still can’t answer.

Please have a listen, and remember these are the rough cuts.

Demo

p.28 “I dreamed a dream in times gone by*…”

2006-08-20T01:17:00.000-04:00

Life is certainly a surprise, a never-ending circus with a bipolar kid!

Here’s a step back in time…

Da used to hang out with this guy while she was in middle school, especially the 6th grade once she was settled in the same school for the year.

This guy, Charles, had the kind of mom that was very involved in everything. She felt that a kid shouldn't have down time, but be busy like her self. Now I am not talking about the kool-aid, cookie kind of mom, she was the Suzuki violin lessons, karate, and she swimming in master meets, (she actually talked me into it one time). She also keep a detailed job scheduled posted on the door to her basement, the kind where you would put stars, but instead of star there was monetary rewards, I bet these kids were pretty rich by the time they were 18 – I think this worked best for her younger daughter. In addition to Charles she only had this other kid, a sweet, little girl.

Up until today, we have always had a saying in our house – you know when things go wrong and no one wants to fess up – the saying was/is “It must have been Charles!” Even though in the 7th grade he and his family had moved to Missouri.

Da and Charles were very much a like - they were always in trouble. I would call his mom sometimes, but she would take the extra step to make sure they were brought together and would make Da say what happened if Charles blamed her as the perpetrator, which is how it usually went.

Charles would do things like, break a window, tear off the Barbie doll heads, mess up the room, be mean to my younger girls and take off with Da on a bus for adventures etc. I don’t want to know what else it was that happened. The one thing I will always remember is Charles was the first house she “toilet papered” – you know that right of passage, kids do. Sometimes this is referred to as “rolling a house”.

Da, being she, would always get caught at everything she did –sometimes I really think this saved her life. Well when she decided to sneak out and “paper” Charles’ house – first, she was caught single-handed, secondly it was the way she did the deed.

Some of you might remember smoking cigarettes in high school bathroom - back in the old days, like the early 70’s. We would also make wads of wet paper and throw them up at the ceiling. Have you ever tried this? It was almost like paper mache, once it dried, it was like a rock. Well when Da decided to “roll” she proceeded to fill up a bucket and took her trusted Charmin to Charles’ house, which was one street over, and instead of throwing the rolls over the trees… she soaked it in the bucket and threw it at the house. We did not get over to clean it up until it had dried enough to be an awful pain!

This led Charles mom to once again think he was an innocent young man with just bad influences surrounding him. I must say in her defense, she was always good to Da and never treated me like “one of those moms”.

Since they moved and we lost touch, I am not sure when she and her husband came to the realization that Charles might have a more serious problem than “just kids at that age” or “boys, will be boys”. As I have stated before, people really need to wake up and smell the roses. If something does not smell like a rose, or doesn’t look like a rose – it is not a rose and they better bring in a professional to figure it out.

I watched a “48 hours” mystery one night. It was about a kid named Chuck. “Chuck” had a dream; it was a really scary one… you see he remembered he and his buddy killing a well-loved sportscaster for no reason. “Chuck” turned states evidence to receive a lesser sentence, and of course his parents, I am sure his parents, pray he was dreaming, and it didn’t really happen. I can’t imagine the nightmare it turned out to be for them.

“Blame it on Charles”, can never be said here again, Charles dreams, Charles is called “Chuck” now. “Chuck is doing 25 years and his buddy that he told on is doing 45. I am sure the job chart is off the basement wall, and his active mother is now either an advocate for prisoner rights or she is sadly hiding in her house.

A lot of mother’s hide in their houses for periods of time, ones like me that do it not out of embarrassment, but of that crippling depression we can experience for the cards we’ve been dealt.

Do they get to play cards in prison? Are mothers allowed to bring them when they visit? It was heavy glass with a hole, and telephones when we would visit Da, for those weeks she chilled out in the Justice center.

Lord help these families, and especially the family of the man so brutally killed. The one Chuck dreamed about.

Dream Killer

The young man that got caught up with Charles and is now serving time is Ryan Ferguson. His family is really pulling for him - I thought it only fair I post this link to Ryan's famlies site:

Free Ryan Ferguson

p.27 Silent, but the greatest of friend.

2006-07-27T00:59:00.001-04:00

It is my hope for everyone that they experience this kind of special friend. Those who love you with one purpose to ultimately show you the greatest unconditional love on earth. These friends listen and hug when they know you need too, they also play and bring joy to your home.

Families of special needs kids really benefit, if they can afford to have a special friend – usually a bit on the furry side, it is the greatest thing! Ours was a sweet Boston terrier named Moe.

Being a terrier he was pretty yappy, well barked a hell of a lot is a much better explanation. He kept me on schedule with his feedings, etc. and he knew the minute his dad came home since he was by the couch in a flash with his favorite tug-of-war toy. My favorite time of the day was watching when he just sat at the end of the drive watching for the girls to come down the long neighborhood street from the bus… he just knew.

It wasn’t a goal of mine to use Moe to teach the girls the responsibilities of owning a pet, I think kids just naturally see these things and they are taken care of (except the poop of course). My husband rarely gets dinner, but I have the dogs food ready by 5:30 sharp – HA – he should be more like a dog… remember the great lines about not judging and they think you are great no matter…hum, husbands might get a few more meals on time if they think a bit more like a dog! Sorry off topic.

Moe basically had issues with Da. I don’t know if he had an intuition of the problems her behavior could cause, and the things that went with them, he just wasn’t as kind with her as the other girls. But once she gave his ears a good rub, he seemed happy enough with her. But by being so basic in their nature a dog can help a family like ours with stability, this might sound odd at first, but when you think about it, it makes a lot of sense.

There are some illnesses diagnosed that the patient has issues with small animals, so you would need to check with your doctor if you are considering a pet. I think they are great for bipolar kids, the ones with the non-violent issues especially. When patients are in a low, or depression a dog can be there to share with and make them get up just to open the door. When they are manic, a dog can need some special petting attention requiring them to sit and just be quiet for a few moments. It’s just a few moments, but it’s something.

For mom, having Moe was always special for me in the most profound way! Let’s face it all of us baby boomers wanted our dogs to be just like Lassie or Rin-Tin-Tin, even Mighty Dog (or was that just a food?), but what Moe gave me just made all those famous canines just dogs. Moe was a very well behaved dog, we had three living levels in our home and he knew, by powers of father, that he was not to go up the stairs to the second floor - nor was he ever to go to the lower level where my office just happened to be. You know what? Moe never broke these rules, amazing, now if we could only teach our kids little things like this!

I am sure you do not see where I am going with how any of this would be special to me… well it's easy. I was home by myself working most days why the kids were at school and dad at work, and without fail it seemed I would always get one of THOSE phone calls - you know the ones from the neighbor, teacher, principal, supervisor, police station, judge office, justice center intake, social services, parole board… just one of those nice little rings that make the mother of a bipolar child – stomach turn in knots before they are even answered. After I would hang up - I always did two things, the first was I would sob, cry as hard as I could with my head on my desk, then I would make arrangements for me to leave, someone else to go somewhere or for Da to go to the hospital. These arrangements were often the most difficult things I ever had to do.

NOW here is the amazing part.

When I would be bent over my desk crying my eyes out, I would grab a tissue, and there out of the corner of my eye – looking guilty as can be was always Moe. He would always come down (scared he would get in trouble) just to see if I was OK and if there was anything he could do. Now isn’t that a special friend? He didn’t have to say a word; just being there was all I needed. God love him!

Today I had to make another one of those “most difficult” arrangements, you see Moe has been suffering for months now and I knew it was myself that I kept him alive for, he certainly has been miserable. So I had to make the call about euthanasia, I don’t know how they receive these calls because the person on the other end is always a mess, (today Moe as weak as he was, still looked to me when I was crying, it made me feel very quilty). We will go as a family and be with him.

My singing group had the biggest honor to sing for a few people in hospice, what a wonderful thing, just the joy of music and the meaning of the words bring such peace to the patient and the visitors.

We will sing to Moe tomorrow, I would love to do “Do Not Let Your Hearts Be Troubled” by David Hass, but the only song Moe could sing, was Happy Birthday.

This will be a happy day - this is a good decision...

Who will check on me now?

Moe Schott

July 1993 - July 2006

I’m not sure who gets the credit for this; the byline is Paul Harral is managing editor/special projects for the Fort Worth Star-Telegram.

“Doggone good lessons we can learn from canines”

Things we cam learn from a dog

1. Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joy ride.
2. Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure ecstasy.
3. When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.
4. When it’s in your best interest, practice obedience.
5. Let others know when they’ve invaded your territory.
6. Take naps and stretch before rising
7. Run, romp and play daily.
8. Eat with gusto and enthusiasm.
9. Be loyal
10. Never pretend to be something you’re not.
11. If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.
12. When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by and nuzzle him or her gently.
13. Thrive on attention and let people touch you.
14. Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.
15. On hot days drink lost of water and lie under a shady tree.
16. When you’re happy, dance around and wag your entire body.
17. Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.
18. No matter how often you’re scolded, don’t buy into the guilt thing and pout Run right back and make friends.

p.26 Not time, just yet.

2006-06-22T02:35:00.000-04:00

It would be so wrong for me to not say how I am feeling now. I have a kid who I worry about even more than I even did before - because now it’s the medically balanced person making the decisions- will they be healthy for her and put her to test in the right way?

The little lies have started; you know the ones they do to make you feel better about them. The job wasn’t great, she walked out, so now she doesn’t have work, even though she told us she had two lined up for sure. She doesn’t have money, she doesn’t have food and she doesn’t have medicine. She did say she was walking to the drug store to buy “a pill” when she could. She gave up her free meds for life, so someone else could use the program because she was doing so great! It was the first time I wanted to smack her - I couldn't believe she gave this up. This medication is very expensive and I was afraid she would end up like this because of her past job security and insurance. She is trying to get it back, but the social services she receives now that she's out of the mental health court are not as individually focused.

It’s at that point where it’s getting hard again to trust here, I hate that. I want everything to be smooth and right for Da. She has worked so hard and come so far, it’s just amazing the challenges this child faces, most of us would have our own little decorated shopping carts parked under an overpass somewhere with all our worldly possessions.

Little tiny lies to make her look good so we’ll be proud of her at work… hummmm, we are already proud of her so those aren’t necessary – or do you start to wonder if it’s something much more, could she be starting to feel a bit grandiose?

We have no problems telling Da what a really rotten decision it was to just up and quite her job with out another one lined up… in her normal reply… “She just doesn’t want to talk about it”. It makes you wonder if her bad decision making will be like "the job" more immature type ones - or could we be starting to see that "other manic" decision making process which becomes the kind that hurt people/self?

I am sure I have mentioned Da’s kindergarten teacher mentioning to us at our first conference about the fact that Da was a space cadet – well honestly we were a bit taken a back by this until she explained... she said “Space cadets are up there piloting their ship through some universe that most of us will never visit, but an Air Head… well, they can only be a passenger.”

This time around when the ship takes off can she now navigate as an adult, through what lays before her? Or should she just switch to autopilot and strap herself in?

Is it going to be our history now that manic years repeat themselves and the circles become vicious? I don’t think I am ever going to know how to react, nor know what to expect.

I did take my “Sherlock Holmes” box off the top shelf in my closet, dusted it off and am getting it ready for whatever it is that I am watching right now.

p.25 A time to end?

2006-04-15T13:14:00.000-04:00

Since Da is now an adult, I wonder if these post should cease - or is it important enough to draw on information about Bipolar Disorder and memories?

Those who visit here often, I would love your thoughts, and oh most importantly... thanks!

p.24 A time for new beginnings!

2006-04-14T21:11:00.000-04:00

I know, I know… such a long length of time to hold my breath and not write here - it was certainly worrying about the “jinx” thing, I had to sit back and watch Da ride out the storm, or sail the calm – not a mothers favorite way of boating.

It was important to me that she, one - stay free of drugs, two - not get arrested and three, the biggest thing of all – actually make it through her 21st birthday. There was a time in her life I didn’t think she would make it this far. Did I say how proud I am of her?

Just reading over the post for the year here, I really can’t believe that anyone would have the gumption and tenacity to accomplish what she has in such a short time, I think many would give up, it’s been hard as a parent to not at times… whew, talk about guilt.

As a parent I would face moments of giving up often, you know, at the time when the phone rings everyday and your stomach goes into knots just knowing it’s the school principal. Especially the times when it is, and you have to leave and pick her up so she can get to the emergency room and be admitted immediately. These are the “why me” times, the times when you sob so bad your dog comes to check on you. These are the times when you forget that others have it harder than you and you should feel blessed, these are the times when you think it’s all about you and forget it’s about her. These times make you really feel like a rotten parent, because I guess as a mother, you shouldn’t ever feel that sometimes kids can be pretty rotten, no matter if it’s out of their control or not.

Watching the sparkle in Da’s eyes now is certainly reassuring; watching her lose weight is scary. Seeing that she is in line for her third promotion since Christmas is reassuring also, but it does not make me stop praying for the best each day. She is doing so well that I have to tell my self “baby steps”.

She brought the movie “In Her Shoes” over for us to watch one evening. It pretty much implies a relationship between sisters when one of them might have a mood disorder. The biggest thing I remember about this movie was a poem one of the characters recited by ee cummings:

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

As her mother, I must be honest – I do wonder when the sparkle will return to my eyes too.

p.23 Please don’t jinx me…

2005-12-29T11:11:00.000-05:00

Wow, Christmas time last year Da was in her jumpsuit, fighting her urge for cigarettes while visiting the municipal North Pole downtown. Her courage continues to amaze me.

This December, she had to appear in court again – BUT IT WAS FOR THE LAST TIME! Hooray, she has completed her sentences and as soon as she “graduates” from the mental health court (this should be in January) her record is expunged. I am so proud of her.

I guess her angel this year was a young fella that she has fallen madly in love with. He seems to be simple but has a good head on his shoulders. He also seems to worship the ground she walks on. She wants to get married right away and start a family (Lord help us), he wants to wait a year and see if she can get her one manic tattoo removed –wow I like this guy and so does the rest of our family.

We did have a joyous Christmas all together and things went smoothly.

Da does have a hidden fear of what would happen should this guy leave her life – it sounds like she thinks her only way would be too return to her old friends and we know what that would mean.

Her work is going well enough that she hopes to get off state assistance and leave her “happy crack addicts” apartment complex - Funny but people just think I make these things up in our lives; but sure enough when a local network did one of the “undercover investigations” of a company with at least 24 local shops they chose Da’s to be the one they went into. Her probation officer was the first to call her when she heard her voice. Da was so upset; she couldn’t believe that someone would do this. I hope she understood some of the sneaky things she had done in the past and how it affected others then. Well fortunately things worked out ok, and it was much ado about nothing. I actually had a chuckle about it; they never showed her on camera, just recorded her voice.

I also learned, and I am not sure of the program, that her medicine for her Bipolar will now be free to her for the rest of her life. I am not sure if this is part of the mental health court program, but wow! She is currently taking Trileptal.

So as the New Year comes around, once again I will ask for collective prayers, thoughts to a higher being, ode to a tree – anything on behalf of Da and those around her. For all I know you guys might have saved her life this year.

p.22 "Love the Skin You're in!"

2005-11-25T01:46:00.001-05:00

Recently my husband’s mother passed away and this was a lady that Da held dear in her heart; grandmother or not, I believe she would have found her to be an important person for her growth and connection to God.

As we organized the funeral mass, Da asked us if she could have the honor of delivering the eulogy - she did it with pure class and professionalism. Since I sing with a church group I am pretty in tune with the fact that some Priest go nuts with the family “eulogy” since it really doesn’t fit in with the funeral “liturgy”, thus I kept a sharp eye on his reactions; I think he had as many tears as the rest of us. Here is this young twenty year old relating the abstract concepts of personal faith into a t-shirt worn by an elderly women with sever dementia. The t-shirt simply said, “Love the Skin You’re in”.

How does a person with Bipolar Disorder learn to “love the skin they’re in”? Call me crazy, but I think Da has the best self-esteem of all our kids.

She has always been that free loving spirit that really doesn’t care about things others might be saying of her. Well at least this is the image she projects and I do believe 80% of this too be true.

We all go through those stages of “I wish I was (insert dream thought here)”. If your short you want to be tall, if your hair is curly you want it straight – give me blue eyes instead of brown - the list goes on. Does it mean we don’t love our skin too much?

Well Da in the 7th grade took this to the actual “skin” concept… she wanted desperately to be, as she would say, “a little black girl”. Our middle daughter always picked out the black baby dolls because they were more colorful, but Da decided this was what she wanted for herself. She was attending the inner city performing arts school at the time, so we did invest a bit in the proper wardrobe, but the kicker is the night we went to our country club for dinner and she decided to add dreadlocks to her hair. We kept our mouths shut as they seated us with our three beautiful daughters; one who had, in an ingenious manner, unraveled the barber carpet from our lower level and attached cut up pieces to her actual locks… Dude! It didn’t quite work, but she felt phat.

Then there are the piercing that all teenagers want, but when Da was manic she could do these too herself since pain wasn’t really a factor. I usually took the jewelry away and made her grow back the holes. Especially, the piercing in her stomach made a bit too long with a large safety pen. Yep then there was the dreaded tattoo…

Through all of these normal and taking it to the extreme times, she has liked herself and tends to find the things in people that are good.

Sometimes I wonder if she taught these lessons to grandma or vice a versa. She talked about grandma doing everything with love in her heart and the grace of God by her side. It was Da that taught me the existence of guardian angels; I know she has a team on her side. Her life has always been purposeful and every time she was hospitalized, I knew her life was one worth saving.

It is so sad when people with mood disorders do not have hope and make the pain go away. It is heart breaking that they haven’t learned to love their skin; it is incredibly heart wrenching to see families go through the pain of loss because of their love for them. And it rips me apart to see them reject the skin their kids are in if there are challenges that they don’t want the neighbors to know.

p21. Mamas don’t let your babies grow up with bipolar parents…

2005-08-14T00:41:00.000-04:00

disclaimer: this is based on generalities as it relates to our experiences, there is nothing scientific about the following, just general thoughts and observations.

This is certainly a sensitive issue, especially after a young mother to be visits and speaks with affirmation about this site. A lot of extremely young mothers are bipolar, I am speaking about the ones you might consider in a “crisis” pregnancy, the ones that go to clinics to solve a problem.

One of the biggie “hypers” in mania is sexuality. When Da was in 7th grade we had a psychiatrist in the hospital just bluntly come out and tell us that we need to face the fact that our kid was a walking vibrator and will be hanging with the bottom feeders for awhile – unfortunately this proved true. I am not saying this is true for all young adults with bipolar disorder, but it has certainly been one of our experiences and it has been for a long, long time.

Because of this I tend to pay attention to adults who are bipolar or my peers who were raised by a bipolar parent. I am sad to say I haven’t heard many good things. Let’s face it to imagine Ward or June going off their medication and hitting the streets for a manic, wild night is really hard to see, but these good people, if affected with this disorder could do just that.

Have you ever thought back to kids you knew in school who was, well shall we say, a bit loose? Have you ever wandered why? Was it just self-esteem issues or did they have a deeper medical reason?

Many babies who are put up for adoption can have a bipolar mother - it just fits the profile. So how does the parent of a bipolar child cope with the thought of their child having a baby?

My husband keeps asking me what I think we should do when we retire… you know things like stay in our house now, move to a golf course, travel… he’ll say “so what do you see us doing?” I am afraid my response is not the greatest - it is just simply –

“Raising Da’s children”.

Now that we know so much more, shouldn’t there be better answers or better information? If you have something you could tell me, I would really appreciate you sharing!

p20. Life or something “Hollywood”

2005-07-03T00:28:00.000-04:00

Well I don’t know about you, but I can certainly sleep better now that Tom Cruise has answered all the questions of metal health issues and medication on one interview show (Interview script is below).

Living life by a script, blowing kisses to the well wishers who hold you in a “bigger than life” status, having the money of a godzillionar, yes this is what I call reality, or something like it.

• this makes the hero’s of our generation
• this makes the people who influence those who are not of mind to educate themselves
• this is the person who speaks to those without experience and convinces them of their nonsense
• this is the person who breaks the hearts of parents who have labored over the decision to medicate their children or themselves
• and yes, this is the celebrity who single handedly puts mental illness back in the closet.

“There is no such thing as a chemical imbalance.”

Ah Mr. Cruise… those diabetics are going to be clamoring to your door to see how they can live minus their insulin, and why you’re at it - I am looking for a way to give up my twice a week shots for my auto-immune arthritis.

But on topic, what you are telling me is that I as a parent have totally caused all of the incidents I have discussed here because I failed to provide my daughter with an adequate supply of Fred Flintstone vitamins? Can we talk; this is a debate I would love to have with you. It occurred to me that perhaps you feel this way because you do not suffer from a “chemical imbalance” but perhaps a “personality disorder” which is much harder to treat, as quoted from the book;
Malignant Self Love By: Dr. Sam Vann

“The narcissist's moods change abruptly in the wake of a narcissistic injury. One can easily manipulate the moods of a narcissist by making a disparaging remark, by disagreeing with him, by criticising him, by doubting his grandiosity or fantastic claims, etc.

Such REACTIVE mood shifts are not provoked by the fluctuations in the narcissist's body chemistry (for instance, his blood sugar levels), or with the presence or absence of any substance or chemical in his brain. It is possible to reduce the narcissist to a state of rage and depression AT ANY MOMENT, simply by employing the above "technique". He can be elated, even manic – and in a split second, following a narcissistic injury, depressed, sulking or raging.

The opposite is also true. The narcissist can be catapulted from the bleakest despair to utter mania (or at least to an increased and marked feeling of well-being) by being provided with the flimsiest Narcissistic Supply (attention, adulation, etc.).

These swings are totally correlated to external events (narcissistic injury or Narcissistic Supply) and not to cycles of hormones, enzymes, neurotransmitters, sugar, or other substances in the body.”

And back to Mr. Cruise; “There's ways of vitamins and through exercise and various things. I'm not saying that that isn't real. That's not what I'm saying. That's an alteration of what-- what I'm saying. I'm saying that drugs aren't the answer, these drugs are very dangerous. They're mind-altering, anti-psychotic drugs. And there are ways of doing it without that so that we don't end up in a brave new world.”

Mr. Cruise if you could now take a moment out of your busy life to call the people I mentioned in my last entry and tell them how having the young man who is being treated as a paranoid schizophrenic with anti-psychotic drugs is dangerous, I think they would be much relieved to hear your wisdom. Then if you would like to beam yourself up to heaven and speak to his brother, I think he can tell you how DANGEROUS it is for him to NOT take these anti-psychotic drugs, and just a guess, but I think he would tell you he wished his brother was taking them the week he was supposed to graduate from high school.

Get a grip, I wish they had a pill for stupidity – we know you can afford it. I just hope this impressionable young lady you are with now has someone she can speak with to keep her grounded.

The full interview:

“LAUER: TOM CRUISE CREATED A FIRESTORM WHEN HE CRITICIZED BROOKE SHIELDS FOR REVEALING THAT SHE WENT INTO THERAPY AND TOOK ANTIDEPRESSANTS TO DEAL WITH HER POST PARTUM DEPRESSION. AS A SCIENTOLGIST, HE DOESN'T BELIEVE IN PSYCHIATRIC MEDICINE. I ASKED HIM ABOUT HIS COMMENTS.
CRUISE: i've never agreed with psychiatry, ever. Before I was a Scientologist I never agreed with psychiatry. and when i started studying the history of psychiatry, i understood more and more why i didn't believe in psychology.
//And as far as the Brooke Shields thing is, look. You gotta understand, I really care about Brooke Shields. I-- I think here's a-- a-- a wonderful and talented woman. And-- I wanna see her do well. And I know that-- psychiatry is-- is a pseudo science.
MATT LAUER: But-- but Tom, if she said that this particular thing helped her feel better, whether it was the antidepressant or going to a counselor or psychiatrist, isn't that enough? //
TOM CRUISE: Matt, you have to understand this. Here we are today where I talk out against drugs and psychiatric abuses of electric shocking people (PH), okay, against their will, of drugging children with them not knowing the effects of these drugs. Do you know what Aderol (PH) is? Do you know Ritalin? Do you know now that Ritalin is a street drug? Do you understand that?
MATT LAUER:
The difference is--
(OVERTALK)
TOM CRUISE:
No, no, Matt.
MATT LAUER:
This wasn't against her will, though.
TOM CRUISE:
Matt-- Matt, Matt, Matt--
MATT LAUER:
But this wasn't against her will.
TOM CRUISE:
Matt, I'm-- Matt, I'm asking you a question.
MATT LAUER:
I understand there's abuse of all of these things.
TOM CRUISE:
No, you see. Here's the problem. You don't know the history of psychiatry. I do.//
MATT LAUER:
//aren't there examples, and might not Brooke Shields be an example, of someone who benefited from one of those drugs? TOM CRUISE:
all it does is mask the problem, Matt. And if you understand the history of it, it masks the problem. That's what it does. That's all it does. You're not getting to the reason why. There is no such thing as a chemical imbalance.
(OVERTALK)
MATT LAUER:
So, postpartum depression to you is--
TOM CRUISE:
Matt--
MATT LAUER:
--kind of a--
TOM CRUISE:
--don't--
MATT LAUER:
--little psychological gook--
TOM CRUISE:
That--
MATT LAUER:
--googley-gook?
TOM CRUISE:
--no. No. I did not say that.
MATT LAUER:
I'm just asking what you-- what would you call it?
TOM CRUISE:
No. No. Abs-- Matt, that is-- the-- post-- now-- now, you're talking about two different things.
MATT LAUER:
But that's what she went on the--
TOM CRUISE:
No. MATT LAUER:
--antidepressant for.
TOM CRUISE: But what happens, the antidepressant, all it does is mask the problem. There's ways of vitamins and through exercise and various things. I'm not saying that that isn't real. That's not what I'm saying. That's an alteration of what-- what I'm saying. I'm saying that drugs aren't the answer, these drugs are very dangerous. They're mind-altering, anti-psychotic drugs. And there are ways of doing it without that so that we don't end up in a brave new world. // the thing that I'm saying about Brooke is that there's misinformation, okay. And she doesn't understand the history of psychiatry. She-- she doesn't understand in the same way that you don't understand it, Matt.
// MATT LAUER: But a little bit what you're saying Tom is, you say you want people to do well. But you want them do to well by taking the road that you approve of, as opposed to a road that may work for them.
TOM CRUISE: No, no, I'm not.
MATT LAUER: Well, if antidepressants work for Brooke Shields, why isn't that okay?
TOM CRUISE: I-- I disagree with it. And I think that there's a higher and better quality of life. And I think that promoting for me personally, see, you're saying what, I can't discuss what I wanna discuss?
MATT LAUER: No. You absolutely can.
TOM CRUISE: I know. But-- but Matt, you're going in and saying that-- that I can't discuss this.
MATT LAUER: I'm only asking, isn't there a possibility that-- do-- do you examine the possibility that these things do work for some people? That yes, there are abuses. And yes, maybe they've gone too far in certain areas. Maybe there are too many kids on Ritalin. Maybe electric shock--
TOM CRUISE: Too many kids on Ritalin? Matt.
MATT LAUER: I'm just saying. But-- but aren't there--
TOM CRUISE: Matt.
MATT LAUER: --examples where it works?
TOM CRUISE: Matt. Matt, Matt, you don't even-- you're glib. You don't even know what Ritalin is.// //if you start talking about chemical imbalance, you have to evaluate and read the research papers on how they came up with these theories, Matt, okay. That's what I've done. Then you go and you say where's-- where's the medical test? Where's the blood test that says how much Ritalin you're supposed to get?
MATT LAUER: You're-- you're-- it's very impressive to listen to you. Because clearly, you've done the homework. And-- and you know the subject.
TOM CRUISE: And you should.
MATT LAUER: And-- and--
TOM CRUISE: And you should do that also.
MATT LAUER: And--
TOM CRUISE: Because just knowing people who are on Ritalin isn't enough. //you should be a little bit more responsible in knowing really--
MATT LAUER: I'm not prescribing Ritalin, Tom. And I'm not asking--
TOM CRUISE: Well--
MATT LAUER: --anyone else to do it. I'm simply saying--
(OVERTALK)
TOM CRUISE: Well, you are. You're saying--
MATT LAUER: I know some people who seem to have been helped by it.
TOM CRUISE: I-- but you're saying-- but you-- like-- this is a very important issue.
MATT LAUER: I couldn't agree more.
TOM CRUISE: It's very-- and you know what? You're here on the Today Show.
MATT LAUER: Right.
TOM CRUISE: And to talk about it in a way of saying, "Well, isn't it okay," and being reasonable about it when you don't know and I do, I think that you should be a little bit more responsible in knowing what it is.
MATT LAUER: But--
TOM CRUISE: Because you-- you communicate to people.
MATT LAUER: But you're now telling me that your experiences with the people I know, which are zero, are more important than my experiences.
TOM CRUISE: What do you mean by that?
MATT LAUER: You're telling me what's worked for people I know or hasn't worked for people I know. // i'm telling you i've lived with these people and they're better.
TOM CRUISE: So, you're-- you're advocating it.
MATT LAUER: I am not. I'm telling you in their case-- (LAUGHTER)
(OVERTALK)
MATT LAUER: In their individual case, it worked. I am not gonna go out and say--
TOM CRUISE: Matt--
MATT LAUER: --"Get your kids on Ritalin. It's the cure-all--
TOM CRUISE: Matt, Matt.
MATT LAUER: --and the end-all."
TOM CRUISE: Matt, but here's the point. what is the ideal scene for life
TOM CRUISE: Okay. Ideal scene is someone not having to take anti-psychotic drugs.
MATT LAUER: I would agree.
TOM CRUISE: Okay. So, now you look at-- and you go okay. A-- a departure from that ideal scene is someone taking drugs, okay. And then you go, okay. What is the theory and the science behind that, that justifies that?
MATT LAUER: Let me take this more general, 'cause I think you and I can go around in circles on this for awhile. And i respect your opinion ...
MATT LAUER: Do you want more people to understand Scientology? Is that-- would that be a goal of yours?
TOM CRUISE: You know what? I-- absolutely. Of course, you know. And people--
MATT LAUER: How do you go about that?
TOM CRUISE: You just communicate about it. And the important thing is, like you and I talk about it, whether it's-- okay, if I wanna know something, I go and find out. /Because I don't talk about things that I don't understand. I'll say, you know what? I'm not so sure about that. I'll go find more information about it so I can-- I can come to an opinion based on-- on the information that I have.
MATT LAUER: You-- you're so passionate about it. And I'm--
TOM CRUISE: I'm passionate about learning. I'm passionate about life, Matt.

p19. Broken Hearted, not a loss for words.

2005-05-26T23:23:00.000-04:00

I just sit with chills when I read stories of senseless crimes. Somehow it can be connected to struggles of those with mental illness; sometimes I know they are not.

An upscale neighborhood, three brothers, a lovely old house, divorced parents; the mother is the custodial parent. Two of the boys attend one of the most expensive catholic private schools in the city, the other – the middle boy who is 15/16 has attended numerous schools, and just returned from boarding school after being asked to leave. The oldest brother who was to his high school graduation in the following week, was just laying on a couch – then his life was gone, beaten out of him with a baseball bat. Later his middle brother would clean the blood off of himself in the public fountain in the public square of the most prominent shopping area in town, before he asked a stranger to call 911. WHAT’S WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE?

I know the news media seems to be not the best source for … well news. So I have to take it with a weary view, but the details are just odd. Principals are attesting to the goodness of the middle son, having educational problems and being moved repeatedly because of them. Well this is what one principal said, it just so happens to be the principal of the “model” parochial school for LD and SBH students, in fact other Catholic schools are studying their very successful program. Da went to many schools – her boarding school sent her home too.

Given I have few details, and hearing that the defense is looking into psychological testing – someone please tell me he has been tested before; someone please tell me that this family recognized he had issues and kids just don’t shift from schools like this, please tell me that a diagnosis of schizophrenia vs. psychopath was ruled out years ago.

I have heard he was a drug user and was dismissed from schools because of violent behavior, this from people that knew his family. Please tell me this child was given a chance to treat an illness with prescription drugs before he had to self medicate.

I can’t understand this, I am having such pain for this family, this senseless death, this confused teenager, the poor memories the younger brother will now have and the pain this mother and father will never recover from.

Please explain to me how a parent can go on after a tragedy like this.

Please explain to me why mental illness is an embarrassment or is hidden.

Please how do you let someone go with such frustration of knowing something is not right or with the lack of diagnoses. Please tell me that this young graduate lying on the couch didn’t die because of this.

p.18 A Four Year Olds Perfect Family

2005-05-10T00:00:00.000-04:00

As much as I can blame Da's bipolar disorder on the baby swing (p2), I can also blame it on her other mother - the one from the West Coast.

We have heard for years that the world was going to end when California legalized marijuana and the migration to the state would cause all of the landmasses on earth to slip into the ocean. Well this did not happen yet, thus Da had time to be born to a mother in California.

Most young children can have the special friend that others might not see; my husband’s favorite movie was about a big white rabbit named “Harvey”. There was something special and kind of longing in the friend of Harvey’s - Mr. Elwood P. Dowd, a sense of acceptance regarding who he was in the world and how he fit amongst others. I am guessing this is how we would all like to feel, a bit calming for the times we live in – maybe this is why kids can create a “friend” to be themselves with.

Now Da, she didn’t have a special friend, she just created a past that went with her present, and we had no idea at the time – future. This was in the form of her “real” family, the one that lived in California. I guess we should have been surprised that our 4 year old decided to have a more interesting family tree that was not near our Midwest/Southern roots, but heck, it wasn’t like everyday didn’t have a surprise.

A four-year olds perfect family… one imagines castles with white horses grazing on grassy knolls, while waves softly break along the coastline (yikes, I just remembered all those “My Little Ponies”). But remember the world of this bipolar kid was not what we would think is ideal. Let’s face it – you see one castle you’ve seen them all and who the heck wants a princess for a mother? Nah, give Da a mom who is serving time in jail. Yes that’s right, our little princess’ mother is really a lady doing hard time on the west coast for burning down her house. I can’t remember if anyone was in the house at the time and for some reason I don’t remember a dad at all. Yep it’s always the mother’s fault – here we go again.

Da could spend hours in glowing detail vividly describing her “other family”, I am sorry I did not write some of the stories down. It was really a bit bizarre that it was not a really idyllic existence, but one a bit more hard-core than the environment we had created.

By the time first grade rolled around, Da had accepted the fact that she would not be seeing her real mother any more. She was not really upset about the fact that some incarcerated woman out west would no longer claim her as kin, so it was her decision to just find an alternative… that special teacher!

Everyone should have one teacher they fall in love with, not necessarily romantically, but nonetheless they should be the apple of your eye, the cherry on the sundae, the person on the pedestal, most of us do. Da’s first grade teacher was a first time teacher, which meant she was very young, very pretty and had a lovely southern drawl. She taught at our parish school, where her sister had been teaching for a few years.

At the first parent teacher conference, Da’s real/not in California dad looked this new teacher square in the eye and said “what is your curriculum for religious education?” well you can just imagine the keg parties she had just put behind her and all the college type things that went with it to become a real adult melting into the floor. This question caught her totally off guard. She stumbled a bit, but then Tom jumped in with “we do expect her to enter the convent after high school”. She gracefully picked her lower lip off the floor and gave a few teehee’s then likely thought we were the strangest people when we left –she didn’t know our sense of humor, nor did she accept Da’s strange behavior as a bit off, well not until she had to baby-sit her in the seventh grade – but again that’s another story.

Needless to say this first conference was the start of true love! Da had it all figured out; we just didn’t figure it out until the school year was almost over. At our final conference the teacher looked at Tom and said “thank you for all the gifts you have sent me through out the year”. It was Tom’s turn to pick his lower lip up now. We had, as we did with all her teachers, become pretty close so it was fun to watch her dish it right back. It turns out, that unbeknownst to us, Da had been wrapping little tidbits she found around the house and giving them to her teacher with a note of unrelenting love from her father. As I mentioned in an earlier chapter - after this conference we were all at the dinner table (the teacher was not there) and we asked her about the gifts. She just gave a giggle and didn’t say much of anything. So I asked her, “if dad marries Ms. B., well Da what would that make me?” she thought about it for a second and just looked me square in the eye and said… “The maid”.

p.17 Mother said, “You are who you run with”.

2005-04-10T00:00:00.000-04:00

Most times I find it very difficult to spend the “quality time” I should with Da now that she is an adult who seems to not “get it”, even after being told repeatedly. She has never been one you would consider “slow” but smart. So what is it? How much can this mental illness really take from her life as a responsible adult, how do others do it? Ahhh - that must be for another time.

Regarding quality time, the periods I take away from posting here are usually attributed to two things; first the rest of my family has their own issues that are concerning and they also deserve “quality time” but secondly, I am often so exasperated by Da’s behavior that I am at a loss for words.

Since she is not able to leave the state for periods of time due to her probation, my husband loaded up everyone excluding me and Da, and head to my sisters for spring break. Since we have a new puppy, I stayed home then flew down the day he flew back. We literally waved to each other in the airport. While they were gone, two things happened, Da turned 20 and I had her sing with me at the Easter Vigil. We spent two evenings in a row together. The first night with her boyfriend I took them to dinner and found myself even enjoying their company. The second night, well I guess we had enough of each other.

On the ride we were discussing her friends. I personally find it pretty funny when your teenager or twenty year old seems to never have friends that drink or do drugs – or if they had been caught they somehow had stopped. Hum, I think my mother used to say “I was born yesterday” too.

Since adulthood has gripped Da and put her through a whirlwind of situations her friends have reflected the life she had been living which changed monthly. She’s had maybe two girlfriends that seem to have been with her through a lot of these experiences. Neither are two girls I think add value to her moral or life decision-making choices. All the others have just come and gone.

It turns out now she is just down to one of these friends. It turns out that the other became pregnant and has decided to continue her drug use. Da did talk her into not terminating the pregnancy; actually she is very against abortion.

Since Da is tested randomly as a condition of her probation she announced with loud indignation the fact this friend had dumped her because she couldn’t get high. (Add the look of your mother’s face here as you think she would respond to that statement.) Trying to not be to overwhelming on our quality time outing, I just kept my mouth shut and let her keep rambling.

Well it finally came out, yes she had learned a very valuable lesson, when you are on probation and can’t get high, you really learn who your friends are! (Whatever look of your mother you were making, you can exaggerate now.)

You see I have spent years checking into my kids’ friends. Sherlock Holmes has nothing on the mothers of teenagers. You have to know that the kids they are with are safe, decent and not going to lead them down the wrong paths. This is part of the maternal thing that you have stamped on your forehead at delivery. Now some mothers do not snoop, it could be a blessing to live that life, but I have found valuable information is some of the strangest places. The latest was in, of all places, her cell phone. Cameras are very telling, a picture is worth a thousand words – I won’t go there. So are saved recorded messages for certain friends. Thus I just feel justified in my feelings for some of the girls she hangs with.

After I dropped her off that Easter Weekend all I could think about was the fact that some of her friends’ mothers might not have been members of the Sherlock Holmes society and had no idea about my daughter. All those years where I am proclaiming this or that is just not good for her – it occurred to me that maybe it was her that was not good for them.

This can break the strongest of detective’s hearts.

p.16 “We are family… I got all my sisters with me”

2005-02-03T14:05:00.000-05:00

I should have asked you to pray for Da’s sisters too. It must be tough to be a sister or brother to a kid with Mental Illness; so much stuff is left in their dust, especially when they are the oldest.

Da’s sisters handle the whole thing differently. The youngest is her advocate and will not let you speak in a bad way; the middle sister is embarrassed but caring.

I remember when I had to go take Da to the emergency room (one of many times) and I had to call the girls school since the youngest was having a friend get off the bus. She was only in the 6th grade at the time so I asked if she would like to go to her friends instead or go with me, she went with her friend. The principal insisted on getting the middle one too, she was in 8th grade – when I asked her if she wanted to go with me or let herself in at home, her reply was “What would Da like me too do?” Heartwarming!

When the girls were younger, a bipolar sister meant intrusions that others didn’t have to experience, this meant visiting a hospital and all that comes with the hospital stay. The usual list was the “gay” family therapy, social worker visits, visiting hours, which inevitably led to the quest to find the way someone could commit suicide in a suicide free proof room. Sounds warped but it kept them amused. Now that they are older it is a different ballgame.

When you see your friend that is working in a store over the holidays and she tells you… “I saw your sister stealing in my store, but I didn’t say anything”, what the heck do you do? Peer pressure is so talked about and is truly an area you pray your kids can rise above, but peer humiliation is well, it must be embarrassing. It’s tough enough to try and fit in - some how no matter what the generation you can say “now days” here and it works.

I think it will be interesting how this all affects them as adults. I want to know if their career decisions will be founded based on youth experiences. I would be surprised I it wouldn’t be a major factor in how they chose their relationships.

If only we could be like the family next door? I am really beginning to understand, we are the family next door.

Excuse me, could I borrow a cup of sugar? Why is that “for sale” sign in your front yard?

p15. Your baby is so cute! She does what?

2005-01-19T22:56:00.000-05:00

It is really awful for me to think of the times I have looked at a little baby or toddler and listened to their parents stories - and find myself thinking “oh no”, I can see Da in their baby. Now this can be as trivial as hair color, head size with a few added behavioral things that happened to them in the delivery.

The experienced mom becomes the soothsayer of children who are going to be kids from the "place we do not say aloud". It really makes you wonder how much of the characteristics of a small child predict the future to their well-being.

When I hear comparative stories, I want to throw that flag, but do bite my tongue, let’s face it, science has proved nothing in my crystal ball and I am overly paranoid. But when I relate, no one wants to think I'm comparing them to my kid, but I am making the comparisons too.

Da’s pediatrician is pretty much the standard MD. Very professional/clinical, just not enough time to expose personality. Thus when she went for her first appointment, imagine my amazement when she picked her up and walked her around to the others doctors to say, “now this is a beautiful baby”. She was pleasantly a creamy pink, I was proud. She also had a fuller size head, have I told you about her head?

I always say that although Da was smaller than average at birth, 6.4 lbs, she had a 12 lbs. Baby’s head. This really gave me the rotten birth experience.

Da was born on her due date. We lived in an apartment and my husband was an assistant soccer coach at a university in his off hours. That evening he had three of the Keepers over and I was getting ready to rest - sat on the bed in our room and bam my water broke. I flew to the bathroom and called out to my husband, I told him I thought his players better leave.

Now I had no idea what I was getting into this evening, it is one of those empty kind of scary feelings you can have. In the bathtub was not a spilt bottle of Evian, but a watery brown mixture, which I later learned, was called meconium stain. Yes my baby had pooped inside of me. Hummm... could this have been the predecessor of her outdoor poop adventures?

As we got to the hospital I was having some nasty labor pains that were getting worse by the minute. Give me drugs. Well when they did the little exam for my dilation I feared the worse, and it was true - a whole 3 centimeters, no drugs until I was further along. After the neccessaries, my labor paints were hitting the top, and yep, still 3 centimeters, no drugs. I must have whined enough because as my husband recalls me saying “I don’t care what they say… you tell them to give me something!” and they did.

Right after my first dose through the epidural, the baby heart monitor plummeted and the rate wasn't getting any better. After a while they did a code, which brought 6 strange people to the room. My OB thought he had plenty of time to arrive because after all, I was just 3 centimeters. But with the epidural, not only did the heart rate fall, but the dilation got much bigger.

Here’s a lovely picture, pregnant woman on a bed, head in a pillow, butt in the air and strange people who don’t know her name standing behind her. One is trying to massage the baby’s head to stimulate a heartbeat - my OB, still not there yet. I was prepped for a C-section.

Things settle down, my labor continues instead of taking me into surgery they wait for my doctor.

They give me an epidural booster and bam, heart rate falls again, my doctor is finally there and in his calm state let’s me deliver without the surgery. The nurses told me he was the only one who would have done that.

Da truely was beautiful except the little bruises on her head from the forceps. But she had a problem with something, a level in her blood was not right so she went to the special care nursery. It was hard to go to the special nursery and see her pinned to a table like an animal in a science lab. She didn’t like her IV so they had her strapped her down -she kept pulling out the needle. It’s funny when you go through your families and kids history 5 zillion times for every mental health official, they always ask about the birth. Was it traumatic? Yes? What does that mean? I have no idea?

The toddler comparisons continue too, but it is small things like sleeping, playing, eating, pooping - etc.

I really don’t want to be the soothsayer of children who are going to be kids from the place "we do not say aloud", I really can't read Tara cards. It’s the baby announcements, happy birthday, baptism, first communion cards I see and worry about.

p14. Overwhelming – What’s a mother to do?

2005-01-12T01:10:00.000-05:00

It is just a fact of life, be it a new year or not, that things can just become too overwhelming.

How do you handle the thoughts that come with a full plate? Myself, I try not to think about it or I think about it all the time. Actually there are times when I just think about not thinking about it.

Da lost her job as a result of her last arrest; I am not sure how she is going to find a new one. She also had to get rid of her puppy, since the state would not pay for her to keep him. You have to give her credit, after everything that has happened in her short life, it is amazing she has the will to keep going.

For a mother to admit the fact that she (the mother) has a hard time having the will to be a mother, just shows how much Da is overcoming. She must really be overwhelmed; I wonder how she handles it. It's not really something I can just ask her, because our relationship has become very predictable – she say’s what she thinks/knows I need to hear. Smart kid.

So I tried to not make the resolution that this year would be so much better than the last. Last New Years Eve I did that and it certainly didn’t happen - so this year I am holding back any expectations and am going to let things go where they may. To not do so, well, it would be overwhelming.

My child has really left my nest - my input, decisions, nurturing, and parenting now pale in comparison to the Courts and all of their tentacles, some are advocates and some – let’s just say they aren’t very nice.

Say a prayer for Da this New Year.

Thanks.

p13. Jingle Bells or Jingle Cells?

2004-12-18T18:05:00.000-05:00

I think the hardest thing about being a parent of a bipolar young adult has become TRUST.

How do you learn to trust your kid and when do learn - it’s OK to trust your others?

Da has been living on her own for just about three months and was doing OK. She is still doing extremely well at her job and because of this her Medicaid was pulled and once again she is left without health insurance. I am not sure how Da is expected to take expensive medication without insurance and I really can’t understand how we have become such a “welfare” dependant society that one is penalized for doing well.

Last week I received a collect call from the Justice Center (city jail) it was Da and she was once again incarcerated. She told me it was because she had another probation violation - she missed a “drop”, which is a random drug test. Well it was for a violation, but not what she told me, she was in trouble again. I was so deflated and disappointed in her.

Her father told her the first time she was put in jail that she would not be welcomed back into our home until she is drug free, working and paying back her debt from the things she had stolen to buy drugs. She seemed to be doing so well and with Christmas coming up, I just felt we had to let her come and stay for “Santa”. I know my husband agreed, but now we have this latest “violation” and we cannot trust her to come here.

She told me she had been without her medication for three weeks, she told her dad she had been taking her medicine, upon my questioning after knowing the real violation problem, she told me she had been taking half doses to stretch it out - another lie. After all these years with Da, I still can’t believe she could just crash and burn in three weeks time, her former therapist reminded me that SHE could.

So how do you get the trust back into your relationship? I think it’s even a step further than that, I think the question should been how do you get the word “trust” even back in your vocabulary. I am sure that most parents of teenagers go through this phase of parenting. But, when you have been manipulated by an extremely smart, bipolar kid, who has sped through life in major mania - your other kids really get the raw end of the deal. I think you get to the point where you pretty much don’t trust anyone or anything. This is so sad, and so hard to overcome.

What does a parent do now?

During this holiday season, it reminds me of the “What would Jesus do?” question.
What would Santa do?
What would the Warden do?
What would the Psychiatrist do?
What would her sisters do?
What would her caseworkers do?
What would YOU do?

Heck the big question should be - what would SHE do?

p12. Oh you gotta have friends…

2004-11-18T01:40:00.000-05:00

Da has had a rollercoaster ride in the amusement park of her life. It is often said that children with ADHD have a hard time socializing into the mainstream of everyday life; add to this the additional challenges of a disorder like bipolar and it is next to impossible.

You see, all the kids liked her and thought she was so funny, but they just had absolutely no idea what to do with her, she exhausted people easily.

I’ve noticed different patterns with my other kids, so it would be easy to say that children just do not make, keep or nurture friendship in the same way. My middle daughter had the same group of close friends from 1st grade until her junior high graduation, my youngest seemed to have her closest friends by who was in her class or homeroom of any given year. Da, well, she seemed to have friends until she exhausted them, which didn’t take a whole lot of time on occasions.

We started to define her patterns of relationships as early as kindergarten; she had started to ask her friends to do things that a child of her age really wouldn’t normally consider - such as walking to the school that was two miles away, or as in second grade, talking her friend into believing they could fly like birds. Da decided they should fly off of the play set; I was told later that she went first and some kid caught her, her friend wasn’t so lucky. As Da coached her to spread her wings wide and go…go…go… off she went – right to the emergency room to have her arms set, she broke both of them.

The older Da got, the more the behavior she suggested became unacceptable and in some instances dangerous. As I said in the very beginning, parents of her friends must have thought some wild things about us. I can only imagine them discussing our lack of discipline policy, while having no idea the kid was grounded most of her life. You might be saying… “Well they grounded her all the time she must have been rebelling”… well no. Da wasn’t invited to a whole lot of functions, mainly just those where our friends were involved or we would be there.

She was blessed with one friend that has stuck with her in the hard times since her 5th grade year. This friend was not really a “social” friend, meaning she didn’t hang out with her, but she was behind the scene helping to keep us informed and Da on the up and up whenever she could, I always called her my other daughter.

One very long hospital stay, Da had one of the best doctors for her age. I will never forget when she told us what kind of kids she would hang out with, and that’s where we have ended up. She slowly wore down the kids you want your kids to hang out with not the ones you don’t think you’ll ever meet except in the Metro section of the newspaper.

I must tell you a very important point of parents with special needs kids, is they too need friends. Mother’s of bipolar kids, especially those extroverted ones like myself, will not just say “oh great” when someone casually ask how you are or the kids are. Mother’s will give a litany of information. Father’s will say, just say “oh great” because people don’t really care. I think we are blessed with special friends who do care.

A special friend for a parent like myself is one who not only listens too me when I rant, cry with me when it’s sad; visit the hospital so I can have a change of scenery. Or simply pray for our children and us to find strength in their own quiet way. But the best of the special friends, they really understand. They know when times are especially rough that I personally will retreat. They know I won’t answer the phone, they understand I am in hiding. These are the friends that you can go a month and not speak with, then you talk and in two minutes – it’s like you’ve spoken everyday. These friends understand you are hurting too much to come out and play.

I hope everyone has special friends like mine, and I know they know who they are.

p11. When they’re fat, they’re well.

2004-10-29T22:34:00.000-04:00

I think at the most life threatening time of Da’s short life she took 27 pills a day. She lived and she got fat.

That year she decided to stay in the hospital Christmas Day, because she thought they would really hand out the good gifts, I spent the holiday with those tears - the kind that sit behind your eyeballs ready to squirt on demand. It was also a time of the required open house parties and luncheons.

We were at one party and one of the sweetest older women I know, that happens to be married to an extremely successful man, took me aside and shared with me the stories of her daughter who is now in her thirties. I think Da was in the 9th grade during this hospital visit.

This confidant’s wisdom was great to hear, plus she gave me some of the best insight to the signs of mania and wellness that I have ever heard, “honey when they’re fat they’re well”.

During this very long 8-week hospital stay, she was started on an antipsychotic called Zyprexa. This drug has saved the life of many, but the side affects are chilling for social reasons with most people. I would say in the course of 6 weeks she gained 46 pounds and with the addition of the other medication she was a zombie.

I try and think of the medications she has tried and I can just list them in a row:
Excellent Drug Reference Site - At Health

Ritalin
Dexadrine
Adderall
Adderall XR
Concerta
Stratra
Lithium
Depokate
Trileptal
Zyprexa
Seroquel
Ambien
Trazadone
Prozac
Zoloft
Lexapro
Tegretol
Topamax
Glucopage

People wonder how a parent could give their child such medications, especially when they are younger, it’s funny they never ask this of a parent of a child with diabetes.

When we first put Da on Ritalin, it was shocking that her handwriting changed, that validated our decision. Normally a drug that is used to treat ADD/ADHD would not be given to a Bipolar child, since it could induce mania, but this one we had to do to get her through school with any chance.

I think to this day we are not even sure how these work or if they continue to work in some people. I know with our daughter we needed medication tune-ups often. I am sure it was dependent upon the doctor what combination she would take, but I also learned the parents have a bit TOO much input.

We finally hooked up with one doctor who wisely told me that he felt it was our relationship that I (as mother) would ask, and he (as doctor) would say no. It is incredibly hard to watch your child blow up like the girl who turned into a blueberry from the gum she chewed in “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”. The side effects of these medications can’t hurt the ones that live with the patient too. A sense of helplessness and frustration can drive the most logical of parents to call and say… “We’ve got to try something else”, you are lucky if you come across a Dr. Keith Foster who will tell you NO, not for a year.

Dr. Foster did get her straightened out that one year before he left our town, but I am sure she would have eventually required a medication change too. I must also mention the importance of the therapeutic treatment of bipolar disorder. Usually a social worker or psychologist does this, I will address this later.

The right meds are very important to the success of her daily life. The wrong meds are death to her daily life.

As bipolar kids become bipolar teenagers then bipolar young adults, their independence really starts to show. If the meds are working they’re feeling pretty good, and what the heck, they decide the meds aren’t necessary and they can be much thinner if they stop them. Now our young adult had to have a stash of Seroquel on hand, because remember she can’t sleep and this is the only thing that helps her.

Once they stop the prescription they can become pharmacist in their spare time, meaning they learn the art of self-medication. Life is very scary when your bipolar young adult becomes a pharmacist. Just think of how you felt when your kid decided to be a hair stylist? Now, through some death thoughts in with that and you’ll see what I mean.

Da replaced all her meds with, like her tattoo says…”ecstasy”. She was so addicted, her law troubles started and in less than one year she acquired 13 cavities and the need of two root canals form literally grinding the enamel off her teeth. She also was a dress size “O”.

Remember? When they’re fat, they’re well.

p10. Getting it right, getting it wrong.

2004-10-16T01:34:00.000-04:00

When your first child is the one having problems, the world is certainly a different place. The old adage about the youngest and middle kids having more lenient parents is an understatement except when their older sibling has a serious health issue. When the issue is a disorder of the mental type, I think it blows the old adage to hell. You learn way too much about what they can do wrong, way to fast. You become a detective, doctor, cop and recently we are working on our law degrees.

With your first child, parents tend to place their hopes on getting it right for their kids. I sit back now and laugh at the younger parents discussing the merits of one preschool vs. another. I just give them my wisdom to use the one I did, because they take the kids out of the car and put them in. This was great, you didn’t have to park and put their coats on etc. Of course they may not have had a gifted program, but then we really didn’t expect left-brain kids. But we still wanted things to go right.

As things went wrong we started a mission to find the answers to questions that were so bizarre they were met with disbelief. The first psychologist we saw was when Da was three, it, as always, ended up in us needing marriage counseling. The issue is somehow never the kid. (Blame it on the baby swing.)

Discipline for a kid like Da was a huge challenge. I discovered that spanking was not an option since her behavior was so off the wall, it could really set us off to a point of no return, not a good controlled way for a parent to act. It’s really hard to live with a 3 year old who is 20.

Well the first psychologist didn’t get it right. The second was actually the first’s boss. Go to the top, right? Wrong. He tried to give us different ways of correcting her behavior which boiled down to bore her to death – well this would never happen. One day I put her in her room for timeout and came up to check that she was okay, only to find every toy in her room hanging from her dress ties. It was a wonderful puppet show. “How creative”, “what a bright child”, “she is so cute”, “wow she can sing and remember all the words” - well everyone thought we were wrong. Everything had to be right with this wiz kid, we were just the new parents who don’t have any idea of what we were doing. Wrong!

Her third psychologist started in the second grade. After 1 1/2 years she at least was right to send us to another doctor, because she felt Da was just out of her realm so we went with our fourth doctor, a psychiatrist. After a year, she was hospitalized for the first time. They wanted to get the diagnosis right; they had a huge team of evaluators. Our insurance would pay for the doctor from the hospital but wouldn’t cover the hospital so we had to pay out of pocket, for the huge team of evaluators to get it… you guessed it – wrong.

The problem being now, a wrong meant a bad prescription for the wrong medication. They felt she was depressed and started her on Prozac, a bipolar person on an antidepressant without close supervision for the onslaught of mania, is one of the worst things you can do. It can induce incredibly large swings of mania.

I summed up Prozac with Da in fifth grade in a few words… I used to say what a pain in the ass she was, but with Prozac, “she was a happy pain in the ass”.

We were right to go for medical help, they were wrong often. My husband was wrong to think his kid didn’t need medication, but he was/is right in the added attention he gave/gives her.

Right and wrong, is never black and white – it is always grey with a child who is experiencing a mental illness. It seems there are very few things that work the same for others. Your life and that of your family becomes a hit or miss.

Thank God we weren’t archers!

p9. Send up a flag and grab the poop kit.

2004-10-09T22:53:00.000-04:00

I remember one of the first rashes Da broke out with. She looked like a mass of blotchy hives, which we later learned, was a reaction to penicillin.

This led me to think about a bunch of little things I might have forgotten about her when she was very young.

The other day I was speaking with another one of my daughters, for some reason we were discussing the psych/educational testing they did with Da when she was in the second or third grade. I started laughing so hard remembering when they asked her to draw a self-portrait. Now I know one thing they look for is small details, like the indication of a neck, but she had drawn two people in her self-portrait. Being the daughter of an artist, of course it was a wonderful drawing, but the therapist told me she said, “Da, this is you, but who is this?” well Da replied with total indignation that the lady did not know who the other person was… “It’s my date!” Send up a flag!

In addition to the destruction and lack of sleep she displayed daily, Da did some pretty strange things as a small child. One could say she was lost in Freud’s oral and anal stages. I believed she sucked her thumb way longer than most kids. But it was the other area that drove us crazy.

Some kids wet the bed longer than others, Da would continue to do this to the point when she was invited to a slumber party (although this be rarely), she just pulled out a diaper and say, “okay you guys can laugh if you want, but I have to wear this”. Her attitude has always been encouraging. In third grade she came home with a different uniform than the one she left with, I learned later in the day, she just sat at her desk and left a puddle. The teacher who we really liked told me she (the teacher) just stood there in shock. The next day I told her she could go to school and be hurt when the other kids laughed, but she really needed to think about how funny and surprising it kind of was, and it might be best to laugh right along with them. She handled it great.

It was the poop thing that made us nuts.

When she was in kindergarten we had the poop kit, this would be like what most people would have for their dogs – we had one for our daughter. She either pooped a lot or got a kick out of pooping in strange places. We would keep old baby wipe boxes in the rec room for small toys, and the first time I remember, we about died when we opened a box, and an old deposit had been made to the poop fairy. Yuck! She also must have loved entertaining the other neighborhood kids with her pooping expertise, because this is why we had the kit – what’s a mother to do? After she would leave her mark in a yard, and I would get the dreaded call from the parent in charge. Da would get the kit and we would go on scooper patrol. One would think a little humiliation would not be so emotionally harmful, but might get her to stop this most unacceptable behavior. Luckily I don’t remember this happening a ton of times, but once was enough.

This is a good example of how other parents think your parenting skills are lacking and need attention. I doubt they got the fact that she must have needed attention.

Young kids with bipolar disorder wear their friends out quickly.

I was once told that all the kids liked Da, they just didn’t know what to do with her, or how to keep up. She was a pretty lonely kid by her adult years; it must make it even that much harder. I know its heart breaking for a parent to see their child excluded; you want to make things so right.

p8. Pardon me; do these come in hypoallergenic metal?

2004-09-26T22:37:00.000-04:00

Da appeared in court with a well-written statement regarding the reasons she should stay in the mental health program vs. going to jail.

Tom had to a chance to go to the courthouse and watch the proceedings, but he didn’t have a chance to visit with her. I had to leave with my other daughter for an out of town tournament, but fortunately Tom had the chance to call me before we left.

The Judge decided to have her spend the evening in the Justice Center jail, then go back to the Mental Health Divergent program the following day. He gave her four days to prove she could live with in the rules, then reappear before him on Tuesday, the 28th for his final decision.
According to her call this evening, she said she is to sign for her apartment in the morning, then appear for the added probation time for her violations from the Judge Tuesday. This is not how Tom understood the decision.

As part of the Mental Health Divergent program, She was accepted into a program for young adults who are indigent. It is so upsetting to think that your kid is homeless, you almost feel heartless when you know you're one of the reasons she has no home. With all the circumstances and just common sense of why she cannot stay in your home, it still is a hallow feeling when you cannot come to your Childs rescue. Instead she will now receive Medicaid, $500.00 a month towards rent and a small amount of money monthly to help her meet expenses. She will also be subjected to random drug test and must keep a job. Should she break her parole in anyway, especially by flunking a drug test, she will immediately go to jail. I just can’t help but wonder what happens to these kids once they are out of jail the second time around.

Da still has numerous outstanding “check fraud” charges that are just dribbling in as warrants. The one she received this week was from another county, so I do not know if the judge is even aware of these.

So what does a young adult, receiving money from the state feel like when they have Bipolar Disorder? I am scared that she is going to think she has hit the lottery every month. My hope is that she will feel she has truly been blessed with a second chance and put it too great use.

How does she keep away from the old riff-raff that are going to swarm on her like flies since she now has a place to hang out? How is she going to fight the temptation for drugs and the extra money that can come with them? When do you trust her to be around your younger children? When do you trust her period?

Da said the last week when she was in jail they put her on the medical floor again, I asked if they thought she was suicidal? “No”, she said, “that awful rash I keep complaining about looks so bad they put me here.” “Did they find out what it is?” I asked. “No, they don’t have any idea”, she replied.

After much thought, I have a pretty good idea what the problem may be.

She has been allergic to all metal, except silver and gold (just like my sister – which I always thought was pretty convenient). Even when she started wearing training bras – we needed to be sure the traps had plastic attachments or her rash would be huge.

The last time I thought about it, handcuffs were not made in solid gold or silver. Hopefully the aggravation of her skin allergies will end this Tuesday.

p7. The Boarding Experience, College/Justice

2004-09-23T01:57:00.000-04:00

The Boarding Experience

. If she is sent away - “not ready for the boarding experience” – this time she will be sentenced to jail.

I must say this was a day I ended up crying for a while. Last night Da called and talked to Tom, saying she was back in our Justice Center. She had a court date Tuesday morning and the Judge told her he didn’t think she was ready for the Mental Health/Addicted program. He then told her she would be returning to the Justice Center for confinement until her court date Thursday morning. During that time she was to think about why he should keep her in the other program.

I mentioned - learning to be an advocate for your kids when it comes to school, I must say the challenge really changes once they turn the magic age of 18 and you are no longer permitted to discuss anything related to health, and limited legal issues.

She went to college for one quarter. We paid for 15 credit hours and a very expensive parking spot. Not to mention textbooks – I believe that Bill Gates would be a godzillionair just from the price of a “college” Microsoft Office textbook. Towards the middle of the quarter, in a moment of insanity, I took the money I saved for a new digital camera and paid for room/board with the sorority she was joining. This was with the understanding that she would meet the disability director for a standing appointment weekly. HUGE mistake, and in all honesty the splurge was purely a break for myself.

First, I think parents sometimes forget or don’t realize that when kids with special mental needs graduate from high school, most colleges and universities are equipped with special needs departments. Historically these would be utilized by the physically challenged or those who were visually or hearing impaired. Since ADHD and LD have become such buzzwords with lower schools, universities and colleges have risen to the challenge of these students too. Let me give a word of caution for parents like us, in the past our kids would not have been diagnosed with bipolar until they were older. Now that they are catching this earlier and medicine is effective, these kids actually have an opportunity for higher education. The problem is, their disability programs really are clueless what to do with them, with the severity of her illness, she needs a Jiminy Cricket on their shoulder at all times.

She ended her college experience that first quarter with three credit hours by getting a 4.0 in philosophy, and 0.0 in all other classes. I don’t even think she opened the Microsoft book; of course all of her books have disappeared.

She also earned 2 arrest warrants and a huge amount of parking tickets. The day she moved out of the sorority house, I think she left not on the best terms and was never initiated.

From this point on, Da’s adult experience has been in a state of high mania and minus the guns, lived the life of Thelma and Louise. We were fully expecting to see her on one of the stolen credit card ads “and I am the prettiest girl in the whole complex”.

This gets me back to the advocacy. By the start of her nineteenth year, she had 7 different criminal cases on the dockets in our court system. Most frightening two of these were felonies. You cannot be a member of the Mental Health courts with felonies. We had another angel enter, a lovely lady who worked with Mental Health and jumped through hoops for me to get her into this program, this included having the felonies reduced to misdemeanors. She also tagged Da's file for the next time she was picked up - that they should not release her on her own recognizance bond (OR) since she kept disappearing to NYC to start her singing career – she is really good!

The first time they picked her up with this flag on her file, she was placed into the “suicide” section of the jail, keeping her away from the general population. I don’t know that she appreciated the full value of this. They base the hierarchy of this facility by what jump suit color you wear. One day she called her sister and said “you can’t believe it they made me wear yellow, I was so embarrassed” (this was the “WOW” level of suicide). Her sister’s reply was “Da, you’re in jail, you should be embarrassed”! Since then she has been in detox, back to a doctor, trying a newer med Trileptal which has less of a chance leaving the body like lithium if the patient is drinking too much, etc. This med has worked well, so we thought things were going well. Somehow confined to this program she also received two probation violations, which took us back to the top – and the judge and the justice center.

Please pray that the court has the insight to do what is in her best interest later this morning. Because honestly, this parent has no idea what that would be. She has been crying all day and calling collect. The judge told her she would spend two years in jail, and she was lucky because if the felonies were still there it would have been 4 years in the high security “big” house.

I feel so bad for her sisters, personally when everyone ask what she is studying, as you most likely ask your friends with/are of college age – I tell them she is studying the legal justice system. They always say… “Oh really, where?”

p6. The Road to Higher Education

2004-09-19T23:24:00.000-04:00

Junior High is notorious for a two-year stint in experimenting, and pushing the limits to see what a kid can get away with. As a teacher, these were two of the toughest grades for me too teach.

After 6 grade and the kids separated into different schools with in the district, we thought we would spend thousands and send Da to an inner city school, which happened to be for the Visual and Performing Arts.

She is blessed with an awesome voice, literally perfect pitch and a comfort on stage that is rare. Over the years she had the opportunity to sing in many programs including the “Pops” at our huge Music Hall, the Performing Arts Center and our Contemporary Arts Center. If you just close your eyes - and listen to the “Little Mermaid” or “On my Own” from Les Mis - then you can hear the clarity of her voice. Her therapist went to see her perform at the Arts Center and told me later she sat there with tears rolling down her face. She then summed it up perfectly… “You always told me she could sing really well, but I had no idea she could sing that good. You know she could really make it, she could be a recording star, but I think she would be on the National Enquirer’s cover weekly.” such wisdom from one of the people who know her best.

The school turned out to be about 40%, at the time, students that belonged there, (you had to audition) the rest were questionable. I ended up working each week in their bookstore where the kids got their junk lunch just to keep an eye on things. This was the first time we had her put on a 504 program, which basically said the school was liable for her success since they didn’t have a “specials” program. What a joke. This had to be the worst school I have ever seen, and to this day, I have no idea why we didn’t sue the school system for our out of district tuition. She skipped classes, had incredibly socially unacceptable behavior and horrible grades with no accountability. I went to pick her up for a doctor’s appt. and the teacher told me, “she is supposed to be in this class, but I don’t even know what she looks like”. Hello, this is 7th grade. We ended up going to a study center and spent 200.00 a week, just to get her through her work. She got her papers done (she didn’t turn them in – I had to fax them) but she mainly disrupted the other kids at the center. She has a great sense of humor.

Da had two hospital stays in her 7th grade year, the second was brought on by a horrible experience at this school and she ended up hospitalized for 6 weeks.
She missed the end of school and had a record of 9 “F’s”, but I did not have them hold her back. Mainly because I had no idea where she would go next.

God sent us an angel in July, the director of the Special Ed. Dept. for our district, put the IEP process into high gear and condensed a three-month process into 2. By October, Da took the “scrunch” bus to what I call “the little axe murders school” which was a SBH (severally behaviorally handicapped) program. She was really out of place when her meds had her stable, but they said they couldn’t handle her when she wasn’t. She was in this program for 2 1/2 years. There were 6 kids in a class with two adults. Academically it is questionable what she learned, but it was a safe place for her until she decided to leave for adventures.

Her scariest runaway adventure - after being away from home for days - was when she saw a 4 family apartment building. You know the kind with a big glass window for the staircases? She passed this and saw a heater in the hall, went inside a curled up to sleep. It was December; she only had a pair of shorts. When she awoke, she was in a stranger’s apartment. She doesn’t remember who they were, or how she got there. The next day the police found her and she went back into the hospital. At this point her mania had elevated to the point where she was actually psychotic (left reality). This stay was 8 weeks and then we were asked to find an extended care program. This is so hard on parents since Mental Health Insurance is not as comprehensive as other illnesses. The extended care would be 380.00 a day, and we had wiped out our coverage. Luckily we found a great doctor who got her meds together (17 pills a day), and we didn't have to use the extended program, she was a walking zombie, but she was safe. She also gained 45 pounds in two months.

Sometimes you like the manic personality over the medicated, so I am sure the bipolar person really feels this way.

To quickly sum up her high school years, she was mainstreamed into a “normal” high school were she blended into the walls most of the time. She was hospitalized 3 more times before graduation. But she did graduate.

This proud family was sitting in our seats waiting for the processional of gowned achievers, and out of the blue, I started to just sob, I couldn’t quit crying. My husband looked at me rather amused and said, “what the heck are you crying for?” I just told him that all the people sitting in this building had absolutely no idea what it took for her to get this far, and it was so overwhelming.

Well sure enough the first pair of kids to walk down the aisle were a female and male. And the male had “Down’s Syndrome”; I just looked at Tom and said, “Well maybe not everybody.”

p5. The “Secret” Education Continues

2004-09-19T01:02:00.000-04:00

Da is currently boarding in a court appointed Detox Center. She has made it for seven, going on eight weeks in a boarding facility this time. If she is sent away - “not ready for the boarding experience” – this time she will be sentenced to jail. I think it is doubtful she will have the opportunity to room with Martha Stewart, which is a shame, because at least she could have learned some applicable skills other than keeping herself safe and alive.

I mention this because today I had a hair appointment downtown. This weekend just happened to be the busiest for events in the city of the year, actually in our history. Because of this I was concerned about parking and decided I best leave suburbia early to look for a spot. This didn’t turn out to be a problem since the battery in my car had died.

My husband was nice enough to drive me down, but I left the salon with a bus schedule and a note from the receptionist telling me where to walk to the relocated bus stop. It has been many years since I commuted with the metro. As my career grew, my hours were so unpredictable it was not an option for me.

Once I found the stop with all the inner city bus riders waiting, I assured myself this was still an OK thing to do – meaning my station in life had really not rose above a bus ride, and I would be too cheap to spring for the $20.00 plus taxi fare anyway. So after a guy tired to sell me a watch and I checked the posted sign for the 10th time to make sure I was in the right place, my bus arrived and I was prepared for the long ride that took you pretty much everywhere before heading out of the city.

Wow, such a long story to make a small poignant point.

Before I knew it we were driving past my daughter’s new boarding facility, and I was searching for a peek of her through the small slatted windows. Just think of me riding a bus, questioning my bus-ability compared to the daily riders, then realizing not many – if any of them – had children confined to this correctional treatment center.

Go figure, life is funny…

When you have a child with a mental illness, you learn to remain humble and empathetic of others, because if you don’t you are reminded. For many families the hardest thing to learn is; the fact that mental illness within the family is not shameful, nor it something to keep hidden. To keep it a secret is so damaging to the child/person and all others involved.

p4. Educating a special needs kid, now that can cause sleepless nights!

2004-09-17T23:24:00.000-04:00

Da in her short life of 19 years went to many different schools to complete her high school education and one quarter of college.

As far back as kindergarten we learned the ongoing of advocacy in educating a child with a mental illness. Our very first conference with a teacher, resulted in us being told that “She is a space cadet, now I am not saying she is an airhead, because space cadets are piloting their ships through the universe, while airheads can only be passengers”, she also scored poorly on her motor coordination skills. It didn’t matter that she rode a two-wheeler earlier than most.

It is not our intention to bore you with the detailed 12 years of accomplishments, conduct referrals and challenges, but it would be a great disservice to not touch on some highlights.

First grade was a good year for Da, she started at our parish school and had a first year teacher, who was as pretty as could be and had a sweet disposition to go with her sense of humor. We learned two things before the years end; one, she told us Da spent her class time writing books and if she and the class were good that day, she would let her stand before the class and read the stories, two, Da had spent the year taking secret gifts to her teacher from her “father”, this was so her teacher would marry her father, and I, her mother could be the maid.

By third grade, we knew Da needed evaluation for school, she had seen a therapist, plus the school psychologist observed her in class. A diagnosis of ADD was reached after she meet a much larger number of the criteria than necessary. The psychologist told us she was used to seeing students not paying attention by writing on the papers, themselves or twirling their hair, but Da was the first kid she had seen literally standing in her chair facing away from the teacher so she could get a better look out of the window. She started Ritalin.

Fourth grade was were we made our huge mistake of not removing from the parochial school. After 4 weeks, she had been in so much trouble; which translated to the fact her name was on the board and she sat on the wall daily at recess. This school had a policy of the 4th graders changing classes, as individuals, not as a full class – much like high school. It was also one of the largest elementary schools in our city, so there were 29 to 32 kids per class.

Da’s major problem was she couldn’t get her things organized enough to move to a different room with the right things, her other major problem was a teacher that had no idea what it was like to be a kid. So we had our first “parent requested” conference. We requested that all 4 teachers attend, plus the principal and they were there. At the conference the principal decided to be the main speaker and told us it was their opinion that Da would benefit from therapy in addition to her medication. Well I would be lying if I didn’t say I was shaking and starting to cry. I just looked at the principal and replied, “She has been in therapy for a long time”. He asked what the therapist had said and I told him “That she was being humiliated at this school and we should remove her immediately”. Their mouths dropped. I bought them a very expensive book about ADD kids and they really got behind her to help out for the rest of the year.

By 5th grade her behavior had become so unacceptable from grades, social interaction to stealing that she had her first hospitalization. The hospital team decided she was depressed in addition to her ADD and asked us to send her to a non-therapeutic boarding junior school. They felt the climate she had created at home was so uncomfortable, all would benefit from her being away. New Years day I drove her to Connecticut to attend a school we couldn’t afford. Their only demand was Da see a psychiatrist locally. She lasted for 6 weeks; they sent her home saying she wasn’t ready for the “boarding” experience. We learned she had been stealing from the other boarders; hitch hiking with truck drivers for adventures and mailing her underwear to boys in her class. Those kids do the darn'est things don’t they?

She moved on to her 4th school to end her 5th grade year.

By graduation she had been to 7 schools.

It is good to take a break and to stop in the middle – after the middle- works well. Junior High and High School is worth the story, I will tell it next.

p3. In the Middle of the Night…

2004-09-15T17:43:00.000-04:00

So just what does my kid do in the evening when she isn’t sleeping? Let’s start with the innocence of a three year old.

After my second daughter was born we left our small home and went to suburbia. This was an incredible thing to Da, better than a new baby sister. After a few days of having a sibling, she proclaimed that she thought she was nice, but could we send her back now? This was all put aside when she discovered there were other kids her age living right in the same circle.

My husband is the kind of guy who likes to keep his life on a schedule, this included getting up early, 5 am, to exercise before work. The first week in our new home he would check on Amanda to make sure things were OK and to double check that she hadn’t again loaded all the stuffed animals in her baby sisters basset, just in case she wanted to play with one.

The third morning, Tom was mortified that he couldn’t find Da anywhere. We both went on a search from the second floor to the basement and she was nowhere to be found. Amazingly our neighbor who lived across the street was walking her over from his house. It turns out she had let herself in their back door which was kept unlocked for taking out their dogs at night. The neighbor told us they heard some scattering noise and humming, they thought for sure they were catching a burglar. He and his wife knew they were alone in the house since their daughter was visiting her grandparents, and the noise didn’t make sense. Thank goodness they did not keep guns.

They discovered the sound was coming from their daughter’s room and slowly approached the door to nab the burglar with surprise. Da was the one that surprised them, since she was sitting in the closet playing with the toys; we have no idea how long she had been gone.

It would be such a great thing to say now that this is the experiences we had in the evenings with our daughter, but unfortunately it is not. We had periods of her leaving through a window in the middle of December in a pair of shorts and not showing up until the police found her three days later. An attempt with a Junior Boarding school for 5th grade would have her hitch hiking with a trucker for an adventure. (I will discuss the education of our daughter). Our cable bill would be huge from the ordering of “Adult” movies. The fax line would be used to sneak in phone calls in the late night, much to the frustration of the parents on the receiving end – they could not contact anyone since it was a dedicated line, so harassment charges would be filed with the police.

The incidents are numerous and teeter from life threatening to silly, but the above all took place before she was in the 8th grade.

As an adult, her evenings without sleep have been horrifying for a mother to discover. A week spent in our justice center (jail) before sentencing was especially frustrating to her because she could not have her Seroquel, which is an antipsychotic that she used as sleeping pills.

Mothers and fathers of bipolar children do not get much sleep in the evening either. In addition to the phone calls and searches, there are the tears, nightmares and worries. Parents do not feel grandiose.

p2. Blame it on the baby swing...

2004-09-14T23:48:00.000-04:00

Let's face it; we are a society where blame is important and someone/thing must be held accountable. Since I am the mother, and the study of psychology has been based on the interaction of child with mother - I have decided to blame it on the baby swing.

It was 19 years ago, we are not talking about the wonderful battery or remote controlled swings with the Bose speakers and video consoles. This swing had a wind-up crank and a seat for an infant; this seat was my bipolar Childs, crib, playpen and our saving grace. Amanda did not sleep.

Each evening we would attempt to lull her into bed, but without luck she would end up in the swing and one of us on the couch, to be the crank - not to say we weren't a tad cranky the next day. I know that we all have heard of the startle effect in infants, Da spent her evenings reaching out to the unknown as the crank was not the quiet mechanism one would wish for. Each time the soothing sway of the swing stopped - so did her slumber.

Once she became mobile, the swing went into storage.

Before Da was two, we moved into a house in an older "yuppie" part of our city. The small house was a former two family so her bedroom was a kitchen in a past life. The only signs of its history were a porcelain sink that had the slant with drainage lines running to the tub area. The water did not work. Excited about a new home, yet living on a budget - I carefully picked a sweet balloon theme paper and had a friend teach me to hang wallpaper. I also painted her crib and other collected furniture so her "nursery" was as lovely as Pottery Barn's catalog offerings, OK, maybe not as nice, but it would do.

As she aged it was an apparent plus in her personality that she could keep herself entertained for hours. Our house was much like Sesame Street; her only neighbors would be George the dry cleaner, Bryan the grocery guy and Carl in the hardware store. There was also an older "beauty salon", very pink and owned by a lady named Verba May, but she closed just a bit after we moved in. This was the house where my husband grew up, not a blatant decision to isolate our child.

For entertainment in the evening bedtime hours, Da would lie in her crib and recite all the names she had learned. She was a very smart toddler, as one advertising pro said, "what are you going to do, she is so smart", what an understatement. When she really became mobile it was no longer satisfying for her to do her evening litany and she started to work on the wallpaper. After tearing a good portion of it down, she found this task to be too easy and went to work on her crib, and changing table. She was too young for a Rector set, nor a good container of Lincoln logs.

Each morning it was as if the Easter Bunny had visited, we had to go find where she would be sleeping... in a cabinet, on the rocking chair, curled in the sink, hiding in the closet, it was when we found her out on the roof I rang and made an appointment for my first meeting with a Psychologist, this was surely a problem with my parenting skills. All first bourns are perfect you know.

Bipolar people who are experiancing manic episodes do not sleep; it is not necessary for them. I have come to learn this is one of the "benefits" of mania. Some people use this time for great endeavors, such as studying or creating masterpieces, others for getting into trouble with the wrong crowd and yet with others, it starts to spin them into a complete psychotic state, which can be detrimental for all involved.

Sleep is a wonder gift, a time to renew the body and mind, and a form of true relaxation. Mania is a high that has no time for such trivial gifts. Should bipolar adults be required to have hammocks in their homes? Medication you say - ahhhh this will come much later. The sleep never did.

p1. Starting with the end as of now...

2004-09-13T22:56:00.000-04:00

Raising a child with a mental illness has been an adventure in the unkown, but a lesson in advocacy.

I could start (and will eventually mention) with the early days, but for now our concentration is getting our child into adulthood and not losing her in a violent way. She is 19, and we no longer have control over her medical attention. Which means basically she has gone without a doctor or meds for a over a year sending her into a huge state of Mania. She is Bipolar, she is smart, she is cute, she is funny, she is talented, she is in the criminal justice system after trying to make it just one year alone.

It is tragic for parents to take a back seat and watch the downward spiral of what they know is to come when a Bipolar person goes unmedicated for a year and turns to a life of socially unacceptable behavior, self medication and the feeling of grandiose (sp?) which can lead no where, except to trouble.

This can be a lonely place for parents to come from. It is often misunderstood. "Wow, didn't they teach that kid some morals?", "That kids a loser, why didn't they make her stay in college?", "I don't want that kid around my kids!"

Well, neither do we.