A New Direction

Well, it seems that I am not really any good as a mental health issue blogger. When things are bad, new or happening, then I seem to be able to write about it. When things are back to "normal", not so much. But, I do still like to write about things pertaining to, well, let's just call it "life in general".

So, stay tuned. I'm going to attempt to post more often, and expect to find several book reviews and movie reviews coming up. One thing I've noticed since our detour into mental health/illness (and I say "our" because I feel like when it's someone in your immediate family, then you are most definitely involved) is that I'm now reading books and seeing the behavioral topics in a whole new light. And movies too. Even tv shows that aren't screaming out about mental illness. Criminal Minds that leaves you out.  Every episode is blatantly about mental illness, so nothing new there. I do watch lots of Criminal Minds reruns though. At least the ones that aren't way, way, WAY disturbing.

Oops, kinda got wordy there, but my point is that having family members with mental illnesses makes me see everything with that kind of slant. Let's just see what happens.

Also, if you're one of my 2 or 3 readers, pop in now and then with a comment and let me know you're out there! I love comments! So don't be shy. And click over there and follow so I know who you are.

And one last thing, I'm going back to my real name. Sure, Jenna is a great name, but it was the name of our dog, and frankly, I'm moving on from that persona.

Oh, and one more last thing. I'm going to continue to illustrate the posts when I think of it, but I'm not going to obsess over it.

I'll be back soon!
                        ~Ellen

All is Well

(For Diva Challenge #33)

OK, now that the artsy stuff is out of the way, back to the post title. I haven't been posting much, and maybe it seems not as necessary to write when things are going well. And on all fronts (knock on wood).

On News From My Brother Front: Well, I'm holding my breath (and I haven't talked to my mom this week), but he seems to be improving. He has been in the state mental hospital since July 5, and while he was initially admitted onto the highest level of severity (I guess that's what you would call it) where they are simply trying to stabilize the patients, and no real therapy is done, he has moved up a couple of levels now. He has a new pair of glasses now, so he can finally see. And he is attending Anger Management groups. Possibly some other groups now, but like I said, I haven't heard any news from this week. I hope that he continues to improve and can stop this cycle of hospital admissions (13 since last December).

On News from the Brian Front: The summer definitely got off to a rocky start, and he weathered what would have been "L"'s 21st birthday pretty well. He's now deep into the process of entering the university world again. Classes start 2 weeks from now, and we still have paperwork to complete. I say "we", but I'm trying to get him to take care of most of it. Just little things like getting his health form signed, filling out the disability paperwork, paying the tuition (oops, guess we're doing that part).

The only snafu that has happened is his housing. Even though he is transferring in as a junior, somehow the Housing office had him classified as a freshman. You guessed it! He's in a freshman dorm. He has contacted housing, and they are now aware of his situation, but unfortunately there is a waiting list for upper class dorms. The housing woman felt certain he would get in an upper class dorm before school started (or shortly thereafter). While initially upset, he is fine with the situation now, and has a great attitude.

He actually has a great attitude about the whole thing. I think living at home with mom and dad for the past 10 months, albeit in the throes of a bipolar episodes (both manic and depressed) when he first arrived. Still when you're 20-21, you would really much rather be somewhere else. And that's about it. Lots of little details to sort out, but 2 weeks from today he will be moving into a dorm... of some sort.

Nervously excited,

RIP Amy Winehouse

Worry vs. Anxiety

I've been thinking a lot about the distinction between simply worrying and having anxiety, but in truth, linguistically speaking, they aren't that different in meaning. But in my mind, having a healthy concern for someone or a situation can be worlds apart from full blown anxiety. And, of course, everyone has a different propensity for worry/anxiety.

It's pretty well known, in my immediate family at least, that I am prone to be a worrier, and at times my worrying becomes, well, a more worrisome anxiety. And for me, having relatives dealing with mental illnesses, especially my son, my worrying has really been put to the test. One of the reasons for writing this blog, besides having family members be able to keep up with what's happening in an anonymous sort of way, is to explore how mental illness affects the whole family.

So, how have I dealt with this anxiety? I've seen my family doctor twice, and he has prescribed Xanax, which I only take in extremely anxiety producing times. I've been pretty successful in really only taking them as needed since becoming addicted to it is extremely easy, and that is worrying. He also prescribed an SSRI, which didn't seem effective, and the possibility of gaining weight was also worrying. I weaned off of it, and in hindsight, it did have a very subtle effect.

The second time I saw him, he went with Wellbutrin and it's just too soon to tell. Wellbutrin can help with focus among other things, and I do feel more able to stay on task, and a bit less distracted.

Psychcentral.com has excellent articles on anxiety, and even has an Anxiety Screening quiz which I took. My results indicated that I have mild to little anxiety. Excellent. Of course, that doesn't mean that I don't still worry and get anxious. When I told Brian the results, he said, "Good. I guess you just Momxiety."

That made me feel better. At least for now.

This, by the way, is the opposite of anxiety:

Trying to relax,

Sunday's Song

Slowly, slowly, I am returning to this blog.

The Diva Challenge Returns

As a break from the sad and depressing, I love to zentangle, and then share them here. I'm just really getting started, and love a challenge, hence participating in Diva challenge (you can see the link to it on my new Participating page). I've missed more than several weeks, but this seems like a good time to get back into it. In October, I'm heading to Providence, RI for a Zentangle seminar, so when I come back from that I'll be an expert. Hah! At the very least, I'll be able to explain what zentangle is more clearly to those who have never heard of it.

So, here's challenge #30:

 Is it weird that I like it better on the computer screen than on paper? Well, I do.

For a Change of Pace,

What Do You Say?

I've  tried writing this post day after day, and then week after week. I guess the best way to say what happened for me to stop writing so suddenly is to just tell the story.

On Monday, May 30, Brian's girlfriend committed suicide. No easy way to hear that news. She was a beautiful 20 year old young woman who had been diagnosed with bipolar I the preceding December. She had been hospitalized twice, once in November, and then once in December which is when and where she met Brian. She participated in about a week of outpatient treatment at the end of December, and then was to start a new semester in January at a local university, but withdrew about 2 days into the semester.

In late February she told her mother she was suicidal, and her parents took her to psychiatrists, and therapists, and she had 2 weeks of outpatient treatment through her HMO. I'm telling you this completely from my perspective and what I know, as I don't want to presume any of Brian's feelings about it.

I've gone back and forth about what I want to say about suicide, which actually is quite a lot. For now, though, I'll stick to "L"'s story.

Anyway, she didn't think too much about her outpatient therapy program, and from what I know, she continued to see doctors and therapists, and was prescribed medication. I know from Brian that once she stopped taking the meds because she didn't think they were working, and she didn't like the side effects, but she did start taking them again. From Brian I also know that they just couldn't find the right combination of meds to make her feel more stable, and she was quite depressed about the amount of weight she had gained.

In mid-April she and Brian both found part-time jobs at the same place, and worked together or on overlapping shifts almost every day. She was able to go to work most days, though sometimes felt too sick to go in. The week before she died, Brian saw her everyday, and he felt like she seemed pretty happy. Perhaps she had already decided on her suicide plan.

He didn't see her at all on the weekend, which was unusual, but Sunday she told him she thought she had the flu. Could he have talked her out of her plan if he had seen her in person? No one will ever know the answer to that question, and thankfully Brian doesn't feel like there was anything he could have done anyway. I am only speculating on the rest of the timeline, but she did overdose on her prescription meds sometime Sunday night/Monday morning. Her mother called Brian about noon on Monday.

Her parents had a service at their house on the following Thursday, June 2. It was a beautiful service, but the likes of which I hope never to have to attend again.

I think I'll stop there. I have posted a link over on the right from the Metanoia website that you should read if you are feeling suicidal.

Back to Posting

No pictures, no songs with this post, just a quick hello. There has been a lot going on since my last post, and lots going on in the detour department. That might just be an understatement. It's taken me awhile to process some of what's happened, but I want to share it nevertheless.

Tomorrow is John's birthday, so I'll write my first comeback post on Tuesday.

More later,

Happy Noise

I'm really sensitive to noise, so when I saw that was the topic for Monday's memory, I really had to think about it. About 4:00 this morning, I awoke to the sound of my husband snoring which always puts me in a bad mood, and thought... that's it! That's what I'll write about.

But on second thought, with so much negative happening in my life, I decided I would try to concentrate on the noises that make me happy. Not the sounds though. There's a difference. The sound of a baby laughing? Do a search on youtube, and you'll find lots of happiness there. That sound puts a smile on everyone's face.

I'm thinking "Noise" though. Something that not everyone would relate to, or even think was positive. So, the noise that makes me happy and smile is the noise at a high school or college (especially college) football game. Growing up in the south, this noise is loud and raucous, and sometimes very one sided, but almost always feels joyful. Of course, that noise can be dampened a bit with a loss, but there is always next week or next year, isn't there? It's a feeling that your team will try harder, and do better in the next game, so while there may be disappointment with a loss, there is hope around the corner.

I love that noise!

Hines Ward, this one's for you! Go get 'em tonight on "Dancing with the Stars"! You know, once a dawg, always a dawg!

Sunday's Song

Metaphorically, perhaps, but yep, we're all still here, and the world goes on.

A Life Unraveling

My brother's life right now could be the story of what is wrong with mental health care in the U.S. today. The quickest backstory ever... 20 years ago, he was diagnosed as Bipolar II. Sure, there are lots of details, but the bottom line is that for the past 20 years, up until October of last year, he was living a fairly quiet life with a mental illness. He never held a full time job, but he managed to finish a couple of vocational programs, and start several others, and even managed to get married last August (egads, that is certainly another story, and even kind of funny). He was never a menace to society, or made his loved ones fear for their own safety (and his).

Until he found the DRUGS. Mind you, he was taking medications for his bipolar that allowed him to be the person he was up until he found these DRUGS. Now, we're not entirely sure what he has been taking, and apparently, they are legal, but very dangerous. He orders them online, with some of them coming from China. What little I know is that some are "research" drugs that are hallucinogenic. The other drug that he says he has taken is mephedrone, which is also known as "plant food". It is apparently highly addictive, and very dangerous. With a brain already chemically imbalanced by mental illness, these drugs must only be even more dangerous (conjecture on my part).

When he discovered these DRUGS, "N" began systemically destroying everything. His brain, his marriage, his ability to function, and his relationship with his family. He has become extremely paranoid, and when he isn't in the hospital detoxing, he takes the drugs, and then calls police because he thinks people are trying to get him. He built barricades in his apartment out of the furniture, and this last time out, he had amassed quite the gun collection. Of course, the hospitals can't release him knowing there are guns, so my mother has removed the guns each time. Sometimes she has sold them, but the last time, after he scared her with threats and harassment, she put them back in his truck which was at her house. So Monday, she removed them again, and has promised me that it's the last time she will, and as far as she knows, he's out of the hospital. He doesn't know where the guns are, or where my mother is. Seriously, though, a 71 year old woman should not have to hide from her son to feel safe.

He has been in the hospital more days in the last 6 months than out of the hospital, including one time in intensive care, strapped to the bed. He has had seizures. None of the stays have been longer than 7 days except for the intensive care time, and 3 weeks at a rehab facility, where he signed himself out AMA. He is in desperate need of long term residential treatment, but that's not the way it works these days. He is unwilling to seek out patient treatment of any kind.

This is a tragic story. I fear that it can't have a happy ending.

Blue, So Blue

I'm back from a 9 day trip to Texas, to help my mom deal with my brother "N", and the problems he's been having for the last 6 months. I got back late Sunday, and I've spent yesterday and today trying to "debrief" myself from the drama and trouble that ensued on my vacation. It wasn't pretty, though I did have some highlights on the trip to go along with the lowlights, and do feel like we've done all we can do.

In my debriefing, I saw the Monday Memory meme is "I remember blue...". Perfect. Blue has always been my favorite color, but blue can be so much more. Rhythm and blues, feeling sad, the designated color for the Democrats, feeling calm and quiet, the many colors of blue in the sky. My childhood bedroom was painted blue. My college's colors are blue and red. Both my children and my husband have blue eyes.

The blue I'm remembering today is the midnight blue mustang that was the first car I ever purchased. Still in high school, I had saved up my money, and my parents had offered to pay half. My dad, ever the deal finder, had a friend, who had a friend who was selling his 1966 Mustang. We paid a total of $600 for it. It did need some work, and ultimately, needed so much mechanical work, that somehow we got rid of it, and I bought a brand new shiny red Mustang Turbo. Definitely out with the old.

But oh, I loved that old Mustang. It didn't start out blue. No, it was, to me, a hideous bronze-ish gold color. Besides being a deal finder, my dad also had the equipment necessary to paint a car. I spent the spring and early summer of 1978 sanding and sanding, and sanding some more to rid the car of that gold. It was more quality time with Dad for this daddy's girl. And, ok, quality time with my boyfriend, who seemed impressed that I was willing to work this hard. It was a huge craft project, the kind that men seem to get lost in. And I was not in the least bit embarrassed to drive around with the primer and sanded spots. That was just temporary.

Midnight blue. Close your eyes and you can see the color. Not the black of night, but the stars and moon are out giving the sky a dark blue glow. It's deep and rich, but mostly deep and it goes on forever. That was the color that I wanted my Mustang to be.

Sunday's Song

Still out of town... some updates coming this week.

More soon,

Sunday's Song -- Happy Mother's Day!

The Smell of Camping

This Week's Monday Memory Meme is from the prompt,

"The smell of _______ takes me back to_________."

 

[Monday's memory brought to you on Tuesday, thanks to internet service woes in our area.]

 

I confess that my sense of smell is not all that strong, probably due to a lifelong struggle with allergies, so my "smell memory" is noticeably weak. That said, there is a smell that even now, makes me think of camping and the outdoors. As an avid non-outdoorswoman, I encounter this smell most often now on crisp mornings in my suburban home.

 

But how does camping smell to me? Well, you might think of the campfire, but that element is not there. It is more of a smell/feel sensation. The crisp morning air on a day that will warm up considerably, plus a hint of pine. That's it.

 

And what kind of memories of camping does this non-outdoorswoman have, you might ask? Well, as a kid, we did occasionally camp, and I was a Girl Scout, so I've camped in that kind of setting. My camping experiences were mostly in Texas, and mostly in warm to hot weather as well. These are also mostly happy memories, with the occasional wild story that probably seems par for the course when camping.

 

  That's me and my dad on a camping trip in the early 70s. Groovy belt. Only in hindsight (and therapy) have I totally come to grips with the dysfunction that riddled my family, so I share this as a happy memory. The picture was taken only a couple of years after my dad began drinking, and though I don't believe he was a full blown alcoholic, self-medicating an undiagnosed case of bipolar illness at this time, he most assuredly had had some episodes.

Sunday's Song

What a week! From the happiness of William and Kate and their Royal Wedding to the sadness and devastation of the tornadoes raging across the U.S. southeast. (For the song today, the video is not as important as the beautiful song by Alison Krauss.)

Warmly,

Good News

In lives that are affected by mental illness, sometimes it can seem that you just can't catch a break. But we have!

I'm happy to announce that Brian has graduated from his treatment program (yeah, they call it graduating). No matter what you call it though, it's an excellent facility with an excellent and caring staff, and Brian really did learn a lot about his illness and strategies to deal with it.

Two or three weeks ago, he got a job, and that was a huge boost to his confidence! Last week, he got the letter that he's been accepted into University "C". He is understandably nervous about the whole going back to school thing, so we have a plan to help alleviate some of the nervousness, and boost his confidence even more. The plan involves kicking him out of the house, among a couple of other things.

Oops, that does sound harsh, but a few months of living independently (in an apartment, not on the streets!) will help him to discover where he needs help, and what he can do on his own, with his support team close by.

We're excited (and, sure, a bit nervous, too) to see where the next chapter will bring to Brian. I'll keep you posted!

To the Future!

I'll Never Forget the Car Ride...

(

[Note: this is my first "Monday Memory" which will be linked over on Life's Twisted Stitches. And you can see the great badge over there in the sidebar.]


So... I'll never forget the car ride when I was in labor with my second child. Whoa! It was actually a series of car rides, so I'll start with the very beginning. OK, not THE beginning, since I'll assume you all know how one ends up in labor. Early-ish on a June morning almost 21 years ago, I woke up feeling "funny." It was 12 days before my due date though, so here comes car ride #1. We only had one car, so every morning I drove hubby John to the subway station, and in spite of that "funny" feeling, I couldn't have been in labor. My first child was 2 weeks late and had to be induced. What really was this labor thing anyway?

Back home again, I decided that perhaps I should at least pack, and of course, pick out a cute dress, which needed ironing. As my 2 year old played, and occasionally asked mommy what was wrong, it became clear that actually I WAS in labor. I called the doctor's office, and they told me to come in and they would check, which brings us to car ride #2.

You know, you can't go to the doctor's office when you are potentially having a baby with a 2 year old in tow, so I drove her to a good friend's house which was only 5 minutes away. I discovered that it is NOT a good idea to drive when you're in labor, so my friend recruited her neighbor to act as chauffeur. This was  a mom that I knew, but not that well. Her only requirement for car ride #3 was that I sit on a towel. Whatever. I gave her directions to the doctor's office, and off we went.

Turns out baby #2 was in a hurry. Are you thinking that I gave birth in the car? Well, no, but that would be a great car ride story. We stopped at the office with instructions to proceed straight to the hospital. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. (Oops, wrong story.) Don't wait for John, who was called at the office, and told to come to the doctor's office. He got a taxi, and luckily, made it just as I was waddling back to Neighbor Woman's car. I had to give her directions to the hospital, and found out later that she thought I was kind of crabby for this fourth car ride of the morning. Well, yeah. She just dropped us off at the emergency room entrance.

About 30 minutes later:

Brian

Sunday's Song

Happy Easter to all who celebrate!

Warmly,

The Chicken or the Egg

It's been kind of a crazy week brother-wise, and you would think for a blog about craziness, or rather those mental detours that seem to happen to a lot of members of my family, that I should be able to handle it, but apparently not. Anyway, just in the nick of time, I'm submitting my Zentangle Diva challenge for this week, which, if I understood it correctly, was to decorate an egg. Not a real egg, but you know, one on paper. I haven't looked at anyone else's yet, so hope I'm on the right track, LOL. Anyway, I couldn't stop at just one this week.

If you celebrate, have a happy Easter!

Book Review -- Just Like Someone Without Mental Illness Only More So

Just Like Someone Without Mental Illness Only More So: A Memoir, by Mark Vonnegut, MD was another one of the first books I've turned to when Brian got his diagnosis. Honestly, I'm not sure if this is going to be a great review, or just a huge thank you to Dr. Vonnegut for writing this book, and sharing his life with us. My reaction after reading his book, is "wow" his family is at least as crazy as mine. The genetics of mental illness shine through both through his family and mine. My other reaction is a feeling of hope. Yes, you can still have a mental illness and go on to have a successful career and relationships. One other thing I enjoyed about the book is for such a serious subject, the tone is light and there are some very funny things that happened in his life. In my own experiences, sometimes funny things are done by mentally ill people, or just happen along the course of the illness. You aren't always able to laugh about them right away, but as time passes, you'll find yourself telling stories that at the root should not be funny, but yet, they are.

I'm not really going to give much more of a "review" in my words, but to leave you with some quotes from the book that really touched me in one way or another. [I read this book on my Kindle, so I apologize for not really having page numbers here.]

"The biggest gift of being unambiguously mentally ill is the time I've saved myself trying to be normal."

"A psychotic break is the exact opposite of not taking up much space and being as little trouble as possible." [After having witnessed Brian's psychotic break, I really appreciated this description.]

"Attitude was creating reality."

"Maybe I just had to learn to be comfortable with being uncomfortable, with being scared out of my mind, and to let it go past like it wasn't about me."

"The first truth is that none of the thoughts going by are worth drinking over." p. 124 [Kindle activated a new service where page numbers became available around Feb. 20 or 21] [This is good advice for anyone.]

"There are no people anywhere who don't have some mental illness. It all depends on where you set the bar and how hard you look. What is a myth is that we are mostly mentally well most of the time." p. 166 [yep, I believe this! Could be considered the theme of the book.]

"What so-called normal people are doing when they define disease like manic depression or schizophrenia is reassuring themselves that they don't have a thought disorder, that their thoughts and feelings make perfect sense." p. 166

"As hard as addiction is, it's always possible to quite and change your perception of the world from one where you do drugs and just about nothing good is possible to one where you don't do drugs and good things can happen." p. 187 [I hope this is true for my brother's sake.]

 

Sunday's Song

Today, a song that always makes me feel good:

Warmly,

15 Minutes

Just not long enough. This is the #17 Diva Challenge, and the goal was to set the timer for 15 minutes and get to tangling. I was just getting into the zone (the zen?) when the timer went off, and didn't get to my favorite part of the finishing which is the shading. The zen might have happened sooner had the dog not decided to have a barkathon right in the middle of my 15 minutes. That just is not very relaxing.

Since I'm new to zentangle, I don't really have any tangles that are my "go to" yet, and tend to have a idea in mind, and then I pore over Totally Tangled, or tanglepatterns.com to fulfill that idea. This time, I stayed true to the challenge, and while I had an initial idea in my head, I felt the clock ticking, and pretty much just doodled.

I do really like the end result (I've looked at a few of the others, and y'all are just too hard on yourselves), but I feel somehow unsatisfied. After I post this, I'm going to do another one just for me.

Brother update: The last I heard (which was late yesterday afternoon), he is being transferred from the initial hospital to their other location which is apparently for people who will be staying longer. From what my mom says, it sounds like the hospital is committing him involuntarily. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that they keep him longer than a week.

Calmer,

Another Detour

Not about Brian. This is about my brother.

I don't know if I've written about my 40 year old brother before, except maybe in a quick family mental illness history kind of way, so here's a quick background... 20 years ago, he was diagnosed with bipolar II (cyclical depression basically). He's been mostly stable (if not really a living a functioning in society kind of lifestyle) for the last 10 or so years. Fast forward to last year. He married a Filipino girl in August. In October or November he started taking illegal drugs to boost his energy. Got addicted. From Thanksgiving on, he has been in and out of various hospitals in north Texas. Finally, after a stint in intensive care, he agreed to a mega expensive rehab hospital north of Dallas. Checked himself out AMA 3 weeks into the program. That was, I don't know, 3 to 4 weeks ago.

Mom called today. The police were called to his apt. at some point last night/this morning. He's back in the psyc hospital. His wife wasn't there because of her work situation. Mom didn't know what caused the police to be called, but Neal has bought more guns. She's scared he'll kill himself or worse, and frankly, I am too.

We're starting to try to figure out how to get someone involuntarily committed in Texas. Mom tried once before, and couldn't do it, but the evidence has definitely been mounting. Now that Brian has his life back on a track of sorts, I may end up flying out there to help her and offer her whatever support I can give her.

 So, yes, Sis, if you're reading this, it's true. She probably didn't call you because you're always pretty busy. Or she just couldn't talk about it that much. Or something. Or maybe she did. I didn't ask. But if she didn't, now you know. I just talked to her again, and he says they might let him out tonight. She doesn't know if that's true or not.

Worried,

P.S. I almost posted this without the art, and actually had another post planned for today, a book review, but that will wait. This art form really helps me gather my thoughts, and calm down, so I went ahead and drew.

Sunday's Song

If only,

Second Diva Challenge Try

Capturing the Mooka

 

I wasn't completely satisfied with my first challenge try, and gave it another go. I think the part I'm having the most trouble with on this tangle is the shading for the Mooka. I just can't get it to appear like I want it to. Ah well, I am happier with this one.

Feeling better,

Our New Normal

This week has been a struggle for me. Family therapy on Monday, couples therapy on Thursday, Brian got a job, somewhat unexpectedly. None of this was bad. In fact, a lot of it was really good and helpful. It feels like to me that we're moving to a new phase, and I'm not entirely sure I reconciled the old phase with how life is going to be. Each phase seems to bring what seems to be a new normal.

So, let's see where we are now...

Brian has bipolar disorder.

He attends a treatment center, but with the new job, that will change and he'll go as his work schedule permits. Next week, he won't be able to go at all, except he will have to go get an Rx refill from his psychiatrist on Monday.

Brian will have to pay more attention to when his meds are running low. So that when it's Friday evening, and he realizes he doesn't have enough wellbutrin to make it through the weekend there isn't a problem.

The meds are important. Critical even. And he really gets that.

John and I attend support group meetings. Our NAMI family to family education course ends this Sunday with a potluck dinner. I hope we'll keep in touch with some of the other couples.

I'm sure there's even more, but I'm going to let it wait for now.

And, I still haven't gotten a good handle on my own anxiety. This week at the various therapies and support groups that became abundantly clear.

It's a process, and a challenge. And just like this week's Diva Zentangle challenge that is the drawing above, some results are better than others. Like this week, this challenge was a bit of a struggle for me.

Feeling challenged,

What IS Normal?

I pulled out my old dictionary (yes, the paper one, and not one online... they make these things called "books" that are awesome) and normal has quite a long definition. [by the way, I must have had this dictionary a long time, as the last copyright on it is 1972] Anyway, the #1 definition is "conforming with or constituting  an accepted standard, model, or pattern; esp. corresponding to the median or average of a large group in type, appearance, achievement, function, development, etc.; natural; usual; standard; regular. In this edition, the 5th definition reads: "Med., Psychol. a) free from disease, disorder, or malformation; specif., average in intelligence or development b) mentally sound."

Well, there you go. If you are mentally sound., i.e., don't have a mental illness or disorder, then you are normal.

But, bear with me here, what if the large group that you are part of, i.e., the population of the United States say, has more people that are affected by mental illness than not? Is that even possible?

Let's look at some statistics. Well, I'm going to confess to laziness here, and link you on over to the blog Weighing the Facts, specifically her post on mental health statistics and resources. Here is her first statistic though:

"It is estimated that approximately 1 out of 4 U.S. adults (26%), 18 years of age and older, suffer from a mental disorder. That's 57.7 million people, according to the 2004 census."

And another one that affects even more people: "1 in 5 families are affected by mental illness."

Another study says that over 10% of the U.S. adult population is on anti-depressants.

****************

So, I started writing this a couple of days ago, and I could probably go on and on with statistics of how many individuals and families are affected by mental illness and addictions, but my point is this: it's not that uncommon. But mental illness still carries with it such shame that it is often hidden, and often goes untreated as well, swept under the rug, or stuffed into the closet. It seems like the only time you really hear anyone talking about mental illness is at parties when you might joke about crazy Uncle Jim, or quirky Aunt Yvonne.

Have you ever played "my family is crazier than yours" at a cocktail party?

P.S. Full artistic disclaimer. I didn't draw the skeleton, it's clip art. I'm best at doodling.

Sunday's Song

This week's theme: What is normal?

Curves

The challenge of life is really that you're never walking down a straight path, but trying to follow the curves that it throws you. There are happy curves, and horrible, scary curves. The art above is The Diva Challenge #15, but my life right now does feel like it's on a curvy roller coaster, so it feels so appropriate.

As a mom with a bipolar child, but not really a child but an almost 21 year old, the path is not only curvy, but rocky. I've recently been accused of micromanaging, which goes right along with the control freak accusation. I suppose if the shoe fits...

Anyway, I'm trying to do my best imitation of backing off, because any control that I might feel like I have is just an illusion anyway. And I'm just going to have to get used to the reality that this particular path is not that well lit. If this all sounds like doom and gloom, I apologize. There definitely is hope, and I just need to relax and know that someone else is driving on this path right now.

Trying to Let Go,

Brontophobia

This time it's not the humans in my life that have issues, but the dog. Specifically, this dog:

He doesn't look particularly troubled in the picture, but at about 5 o'clock this morning, with loud thunder clapping all around the house, it was a different story.

Did you know that brontophobia is the fear of thunder? Apparently there are several other names for it as well, but this one was the easiest to spell, and today I'm going for easy. Danny is not alone. He has lots of other canine pals that are also scared of thunder, but he's the one pacing the floor in our house. Or hiding under the bed. Or looking for me.

Ordinarily, he sleeps on Brian's bed, but thunder brings out the baby in him, and he comes looking for mom. During several recent early morning storms, he has slept next to my bed, under my bed, and, this morning, in my bed, snuggled up next to me on my pillow. Basically sleeping on my head. And he snores. It was a veritable indoor thunder session with all the snoring going on.

Anyway, all the sleep disruption, and noise has left me a little grouchy, and realizing that pretty much everyone in my family has some "issues."

Book Review -- Brilliant Madness: Living with Manic Depressive Illness

When faced with illness of any sort, John & I often turn to books, and the internet as a means of educating ourselves. Interestingly, he turns to the "fact" books, and I tend more toward the human interest types of books, and A Brilliant Madness was one of the first I turned to.

Written by actress Patty Duke and Gloria Hochman, this tells the story of Patty Duke's struggle with mental illness. The chapters are alternately written by Ms. Duke, telling the story in her words, and then Ms. Hochman explaining the facts and treatments of manic depressive illness.

Why did I choose this one first, and what did I think? Well, I chose it, I think, because after my brother was diagnosed as bipolar in 1991, my mother started learning more about this disease. Patty Duke was one of the first celebrities that I had ever heard also being bipolar, and she has been quite outspoken about it since her diagnosis in 1982. When my brother was diagnosed, I did contemplate learning more about it then, but my plate was full, or so I thought, and I left it up to my mom to handle things.

So, is it a useful book to read? Yes, and no. For me, it was heartbreaking to read how she struggled for many years with depression, wild manic episodes and multiple suicide threats and attempts. But it was also reassuring in that as bad as it had been for her, now that she had a diagnosis and a treatment plan, life could go on in a more or less normal fashion. Originally written in 1992, the chapters on the illness itself were interesting, but now, in 2011, I found much of the information to be outdated, and I found myself skimming those chapters.

"There comes a point where the mental illness has to stop being the focus of your life. Once you are treated, your world is no longer about depression or mania. It is about living your life -- making a nice dinner, reading a book, or writing one, going to a PTA meeting, and feeling comfortable about it. It's no longer thinking of yourself as a "patient." But you still have to deal with reality. And reality is hard."

Patty Duke, A Brilliant Madness: Living with Manic Depressive Illness,  p. 291.

We're not at that point yet, but there is hope.