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 |  This was my first blog, maybe my best blog...nah! The journey continues with another..!
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** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Check out this signature's match at Thomas  's blog** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** "You want to become aware of your thoughts and choose them carefully. You are the Michelangelo of your own life; the 'David' you are sculpting is YOU!" Dr. Joe Vitale
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I had a great time with my friend and yours, kelly1202 last night  We went to a movie and then a restaurant with her mom (a wonderful lady, of course) and a friend of her mom's, also a very nice lady. The movie we saw was World Trade Center. To be very honest, I hadn't considered going to this movie before Kelly asked me to go last week. I'm not usually a big fan of movies or books based on "real events" because they so seldom get those events correct, and I also didn't feel that enough time has passed since the WTC disaster for the movie to be as good as it should be. Oliver Stone being the director didn't give me any cause for hope; his movies have become so melodramatic and "cause-worthy". I can admit when I'm wrong. The very thing I was worried about with Stone helming the controls of World Trade Center: trying to make the events of that day about more than human suffering and perseverence, but I was pleasantly surprised. The story was actually desceptively simple and free of sensationalism. I'm sure there are some who will see it and feel some political agenda, but I really feel that there is none. It is a story about primarily two police officers who find themselves in a disasterous situation, their heroic efforts to survive, and the heroic efforts of those who worked for their survival. It's about what we humans are capable of when we need to be, the strength we can discover inside ourselves that will carry us, sustain us, and ultimately save us. I shivered when the movie began; people are rising from sleep, going about mundane daily tasks with an easy confidence that Americans have felt for a hundred years. We don't have to worry about terrorism, we thought benignly, at least not the kind of terrorism they have experienced elsewhere for so many years. We were an ocean away from all that, from gunmen in the streets or suicide bombers on buses. It just doesn't happen here. How naive we were to think we were above it all. I remember that day like it just happened. I began my day like everyone else-making my kids ready for school, rushing to get myself ready for the day. Then my car wouldn't start and I had to call a cab to get the kids to school and myself as well, and I was feeling sorry for myself. "Why do these things happen to me," I thought petulantly. When I slid into the taxi I opened my mouth to ask the driver to lower the volume of his radio. It was blasting some news station and heightened my irritation...until I heard "plane into the building." What? At first the driver told me a plane had crashed into the Empire State Building and I assumed it was an accident. "How terrible," I thought, all self-pity evaporating. Then the truth of what was occurring hit us all in that car. My kids stared at me, their safe little worlds rocking for the first time ever. I remember standing in front of a t.v. at the community college I was attending, riveted like everyone else was, and I remember watching the buildings fall. I was standing there gaping at what I saw, trying to ingest the fact that I'd just watched how many people die? I couldn't comprehend it, my brain wouldn't let me. When I "experienced" the buildings falling as I watched the movie, I was once again shaken to my core. While I was standing safely so many, many miles away, THIS had been happening to fellow human beings. It was overwhelming. My favorite part of the movie came when the camera gave us a birds-eye view of rescue workers sent out to help save two police officers. Their sheer number was astounding, that so many would volunteer and risk themselves to save so few. Wow, I thought tearfully as I watched. There's hope for us yet. |
| Sarah (my 12-yr-old) had friends over last night and most of today. Dealing with Sarah and her "issues" at this time in her life is a piece of cake for me, the old hand at raising girls. Of course my older two didn't have friends with cell phones and the "luxury" of IM! They spent alot of time on the computer and on the phones with their so-called friends. I use the term "so-called" because these girls can be so MEAN to each other! I never accepted that from my first two OR their friends in my proximity and I don't accept it from Sarah and her cronies, either. At one point last night I had to pull her into a different room and lecture her about "treating others as we want to be treated, not as we ARE treated." Ah, here we go again...middle school is TOUGH for girls especially, I believe. Boys will never know-at least not to the same degree-what the backstabbing, sniping, gossiping atmosphere does to alter a girl's self image and belief in herself. There have been real studies that show how a middle school girl's self-esteem plummets in the course of ONE YEAR...the 7th grade year. At the beginning of the school year most young women are pretty sure of themselves. They like themselves, see themselves as talented and/or successful in some area, and most of them still have healthy body images. By the END of this pivotal year, the difference was alarming to those who performed the study. A large number of them were very negative about themselves and had lost confidence in their abilities. This was the year when most of the girls started to talk about weight and express unhappiness with "fat thighs" or "a big nose." The most sad part of this cultural phenomena is the simple fact that we girls do it to each other. WHY do girls find it necessary to be so MEAN to each other??? Why do so many try to lift themselves up on the backs of others? I talked to my own girls about it until they groaned in protest and I'll do the same with Sarah. I will NEVER tolerate or accept my own girls being less than kind to someone else. I tell them to remember how it feels when it's done to them and strive NOT to do it to someone else, no matter how much the other person may deserve it. No matter what their peers are doing or saying. My middle girl, she got the message loud and clear. That girl is more self confident than anyone else I know. She's different from most girls her age. She reads alot, writes alot, studies alot, and likes to spend time alone. She loves to think deep thoughts and ponder world issues-she often discusses them with ME! When she was in middle school she didn't let anyone else tell her what she liked or didn't like. She has never done anything just to be a part of the crowd or because someone else wants her to, not even me  She has friends but they certainly don't tell her what to do, and when sometimes they start to engage in activities my daughter doesn't condone or want to be around, she'll let them go rather than compromise her own principles. Liz's condition, of course, alters who she would be otherwise. She's ultra concerned about what others think and invests her identity in her peers. Middle school didn't erode her as much as bipolar disorder did, but still there were days when she'd come home crying because of-yes-mean girls. Girls who single out those who are "different" and work to cut them down to size. It was in middle school that Liz stopped being proud of her brains, when others would make snide comments about answers she'd give in class, or the time one girl snatched her achievement test scores when they were given out and tried to make her seem like a freak of nature for the almost-perfect scores. She began to hide then, hide who she is from even herself. She sang in public but those "mean girls" even made that talent seem negative. They'd tell people she really lip-synced when she hadn't, they'd sneer at her and say "you think you're so great," in that tone of voice that implies how NOT great you really are. By the time middle school was over, those girls altered who Liz would become. Yes, Liz was more sensitive than others to such criticsms and still is, but I can't help wondering what my daughter could have been without those Mean Girls. And the thought of any of my own daughters inflicting that sort of pain on another...NO WAY. I had my own similar experiences in Jr. High as we called it back then, a bully of a girl who would pick at everything about me from my hair to my weight to simply ME. She enlisted others in her campaign to ground me down and for a while it worked. Then I realized, and I don't know quite what caused this epiphany, that I was in control of my own reactions to her, that what she said to me and about me didn't make it true or real unless I MADE it so. I stopped making it so and it didn't take long before she turned away from me and moved on to some other poor girl. I have always been proud that I never did to another girl what was done to me. In fact, I tried my best to become a champion of others who were treated badly, not always successfully  I think Sarah and her peers are going to be even more challenged by what I consider to be a horrifying trend. At least my older girls and myself were not from a generation that has grown up with Simon from American Idol or those awful dating shows where the main goal seems to be how completely one person can cut another down to "size," especially the GIRLS!!! Society today seems to be taking the "Mean Girl" concept and showcasing it, glorifying it, stamping it with approval and shoving the idea of "survival of the fittest and most thick-skinned" down America's throat. Our little girls are sitting in front of their televisions and computers, raptly taking it all in and storing it up for future reference. Don't think they don't. The whole thing disgusts me and that's why I refuse to watch American Idol or have it on in my home. It's NOT OKAY for one person to verbally attack another no matter WHAT THE REASON IS. Words DO hurt, sometimes irrepairably. I'll be here to catch my youngest when she is felled by verbal slings and arrows. She won't be as self confident as my middle girl, she won't be as vulnerable as the oldest. But she's human and words HURT. I'll just have stand behind her-and her peers as much as I can-to make sure they don't damage each other irrepairably. And I'll keep preaching even when I get those eye-rolls |
| Sometimes I have to laugh at myself. I work hard to put my best foot forward when I write a blog entry, and then others will laud me for being "so truthful" and "raw" with my entries. More often I'm truthful about my daughter and what SHE goes through, but ME? Not so much. I mean what I write about working to help her and doing my best by her AND my other kids, but what goes on in the depths of ME? Lately it's been anything but pretty and I hope that by getting it OUT the hard black knot that is currently floating around in my psyche will release even a little bit of its hold on me. I feel monumentally sorry for myself. I have a kid who's closer to 19 than 18 and I always thought that at this time in my life, with two almost-grown children, I'd have some semblence of a life that was about more than them. I still have a 12-yr-old, granted, but I could handle that. There's nothing SHE could throw at me that I haven't seen or dealt with before, poor kid  I don't have the freedom I envisioned, not even close. Right now I'm more of a warden/caretaker/psychologist/nurse than I ever was before. And I feel sorry for myself because of it. This is not a pretty way to be; I'm aware of it and try to figure out how to get out of the rut that black knot has dug for me, but so far no luck.There are many days when I close myself off in my room, in the dark, and just sit. Sometimes I turn on the television if I can find a mindless sitcom and sometimes not. I'm aware that I'm wasting time, getting nothing accomplished in my life or my children's lives, wasting precious moments that can never be recaptured. I feel bad about that and sit some more. I don't know how to crawl out, I'm out of ideas, and I'm so out of strength, which makes me feel like a total fraud when people here and everywhere talk or write about how STRONG I am. I used to be, I really did, but not so much anymore. I feel like a victim of erosion and picture myself as some sort of "grand canyon" with gaping holes where the "strength" used to be. Yes, I go to counseling. Yes, I take pills. It helps for a flash, a finger-snap, a fraction of a moment when I feel the uplift and it feels GOOD, I feel human. It does not last. I DO NOT write this to elicit sympathy or anything close to it. I write it because I want to be honest and I hope that facing the yawning blackness will dissipate it somehow. Fighting it doesn't seem to work, so how about FACING it? I didn't write in this blog for gaps of time last month because I didn't want to spread it, like it might be contagious. Partially I really didn't have anything to write, partially I just don't want to be such a damn downer. Downing myself is enough, seeing how I down my kids is enough. I watched a smidgeon of Oprah today and I wanted to throw something at the T.V. A psychologist said that once we become parents we lose the right to self destruct. I completely agree, but how do you stop a moving train? I don't think she really answered that. Have I become this way because of my daughter? Because of boredom? Because why? I've battled this particular monster on and off for most of my adult life and I get so tired of it. I want to feel normal for months, not weeks. I want to have the capability to DO what I know should be DONE without the inertia, the hopelessness, the black knot that floats around just waiting to strike. I want to experience a block of time when no one on earth wants anything from me, nothing. NOTHING. Not even myself, when I want nothing of myself but to just exist, when that's enough. No expectations, no failures, just existance is enough. There. Now my blog is honest. |
| Ah, more about motherhood, just to vent. It is almost 2 am here and I spent some time chasing down Liz--fun stuff, this bipolar disorder which is SO not controlled with her. I NEED to get her a decent psychiatrist in the WORST possible way. I thought she went to bed. I took the dog out and saw a suspicious looking person walking down the road...we live on a military installation, not many road walkers in the middle of the night. Sure enough it was you-know-who; I looked in her room and she'd vanished as if by magic to put it in cutesy terms. See, for the last two weeks she was in a downward spiral, very depressed and lying in bed all day. I noticed an upswing a few days ago and viola! Here we are to mania, all righty then. I'm not even emotionally wrung out or overwrought or any of that. Basically I'm TIRED and I want this crap controlled like it's SUPPOSED to be with the myriad of drugs she gets. I had to grab her by the shirt while she tried to beat the tar out of me to get her in the car...she knows not what she does when she's manic. She'll be remorseful when she's calm enough to be. Getting battered by this out-of-control person was not fun, but I'll be DAMNED if my kid will be a statistic to the mania. Just another night at the ol' corral. |
Yesterday was my youngest daughter's birthday, she's twelve years old and entering the 7th grade in about two weeks. My youngest child will be in middle school, in the jr. high youth group at church, and "going out" with her friends to the movies and dances.  When did this happen? It seems like a year or two ago that I would take her to Steak N Shake down the street from our church while her older sisters were taking part in the jr. high youth group. We were "buddies and pals," I would say with a smile, while her sisters were out on weekend evenings or at school dances. She would sulk a little and ask how soon SHE would be big enough to go to dances. I would look indulgently upon my baby. Sigh.Being a mother is a weird experience. A few days ago I saw the Today show where a mother was being interviewed. She'd recently had the audacity to admit openly that being a mother is often a boring job. It's ridiculous how this news was received by the press. The reaction of myself and my peers? Well DUH! What "normal" adult willingly spends hours watching "Blues Clues" and "Sesame Street," singing "The Wheels On the Bus" and gyrating around like an idiot while you sing it?? What "normal" adult eagerly sits and listens to the latest pre-teen gossip about "Shelby who is now mad at Julia because she said she likes David who said he really likes Marla and SHE lied and said..." blah blah blah blah. Please. My eyes glaze over as I nod and smile, hoping I won't be asked a question which will showcase my lack of attention, which would cause a "MOTHER! You just don't care about me at all!" *stomp stomp stomp SLAM* Oh yeah, the perfect way to spend an afternoon. And we won't get into the mountains upon mountains of laundry, dishes, picking up, sweeping, dusting, TOILET scrubbing, barf-cleanings, diarhea messes, doctor visits, library visits for a 45-minute rendition of "Peter and the Wolf" for the THIRD time, amusement parks where my main job is Carrier Of Stuff...OH, and let's not even delve into school time and room mother tasks where I have to come up with three games for the halloween party that won't offend any parents , girl scout leader positions where I quickly learned to be not only a teacher but an accountant and paper-pusher (yuck-o-rama), slumber parties with 15 screaming girls, watching "The Princess Diaries" for the 500th time...*GASP* And this mother called motherhood BORING? What a shock. I spend some time feeling guilty that I don't get on the floor with my youngest like I did the other two, but the sad truth is that if I had to play scrabble with one more child and try to lose to a kid who couldn't yet spell two syllable words, I might have started drooling and running around in circles singing "The Wheels On the Bus." Sad but true. I spent years eagerly awaiting the growth of my children, ready many years ago to "end the madness" of childhood which has surrounded my adult life. I have been SO ready to launch myself into a world of my own choosing, to find friends and peers with whom I can relate, to spend my evenings surrounded by interesting things to do and see and discuss. I have spent years impatient for my kids to mature so that they wouldn't need me as much and so I wouldn't have to make my life about THEM and THEIR needs. So my 17-yr-old will begin her senior year of high school, my 18-yr-old will take college classes, my youngest starts middle school and begins to attain a social life without me. So how come I feel teary about that?? See, being a mother is weird.  |
| How ironic that this month I began by writing entries diligently, but by the last week of this month I've fallen off so horrifically It is hot. I am not one who relishes hot weather. I am more or less one for whom hot weather is akin to the kiss of death. Even in a central air conditioned home, my energy and stamina wane to the point that I'm doing well to make it through each long, boring, incredibly hot day. I hate mid-summer, I just do. And this year mid-summer is made even worse by this heat wave; I simply cannot muster the energy to do anything of any worth! It's not quite SO awful if heat isn't accompanied by humidity. I grew up in the desert, I can handle a baking oven type heat much better than the oppressive HUMIDITY we've been experiencing *drip drip* You can see I won't be moving to the South anytime soon. And so my brain is frozen, no earth-shattering, spine-tingling or even halfway thoughtful blog entry today, bigsigh. I'm bored and I'm HOT. Period.  |
| I have an idea for a potentially good story. I'm excited about it-the premise came to me earlier in the day. I also have that Glimmertrain story for The Terrace to contemplate and begin writing; I need some serious thought time for that because I'm just not sure of it, yet. I want to write, I ache to write. I don't mean thirty minutes here and there or an hour if I'm really lucky (my usual for blog entries these days). I mean I want a BLOCK of TIME when my muse and I can get seriously in touch with each other and create. I am frustrated, feeling like I might get that kind of time by the January after next if I'm terribly lucky. I've tried staying up past my kids so that I can have some dark quiet time, just me and the glow from my computer screen. Lately that doesn't seem to work, because by the time my teenagers are in bed I'm too tired to give my muse much attention  I'm also desperate for ALONE time even without the muse so I've given into that, glassily staring at a softly-playing television just to absorb the silence and the essence of ALONE.I have this high, high maintenance older teenager; I thought, years ago, that by now I'd have LESS on my plate instead of MORE, but that didn't work out quite the way I envisioned. I have two other kids, one who's young enough to still need whatever undivided attention I can give her, and one who won't complain but still needs her share, too. So when? When can the muse and I sit together in relative peace and do the very thing I need to keep me sane? WHEN??? |
| Wow. I thought the myriad of good wishes and positive reinforcement were overwhelming and sweet BEFORE...I'm just amazed at the generosity and giving spirit of you on this site. I received another wonderful "angel" c-note and gps--thank you to those who have anonymously sent such lovely thoughts with those notes!!! And ♥Flower♥ proved herself to be SUCH a caring friend; she sent this wonderful merit badge: ![Merit Badge in Grace Under Pressure
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Your ability to share your experiences with your family so openly with this community is tremendous. There are many here who gather strength from your blog and your kind words to others. Keep it up. You Rock! *^*Heart*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/general-Grace_Under_Pressure-210.gif) She's been through so much in her own life that I'm truly choked up from her gift.And a real surprise in my inbox yesterday gave me quite a lift, this one being from haremprincess: ![Merit Badge in Contests
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For your contest Show me your memoirs](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/genre-Contests-235.gif) She gifted me with this badge as a result of my "memoirs" contest! I have been overjoyed by the response the contest has received Although I have my work cut out for me after that deadline passes, I'm looking forward to reading the entries--just not to making what I know will be some really tough choices!!Such a largess in my own inbox was touching to a grand degree, and once again I have been lifted completely OUT of that pit I'd fallen into. Thank you. I also want to mention a few of our Blogville residents who could do with some good thoughts and positive words: Rainbowapple has recently discovered that she will need surgery soon, not too long after her husband has been sidelined by surgery! Please stop by her VERY interesting blog and wish her well, I know she'll appreciate it. And the wonderful Cassie Reynolds has been experiencing HER share of adversity, along with her husband Mike who is also a member of our esteemed community. Please pray for them and stop by her blog and add your voice to those who have already given their support.I know there are more here in need of our positive thoughts and caring gestures, and I can tell you firsthand how much GOOD they can do. Don't hesitate to reach out and let each other know that we care and we're HERE. It can sometimes make ALL the difference |
| She's home and doing okay for right now. She's promised to hang in there until we can do something more for her. Sometimes she's a very astute young woman and I can see the HER that is often missing these days. At the hospital she told the attendant that she needs a new psychiatrist, she needs more and better therapy. She's right. They didn't feel she was enough of a danger to herself to keep her more than a day...she's been there and done that with whatever they can offer her. On Monday I'll make more phone calls and hopefully get her in to people who are willing to help her they way she SHOULD be helped. It's like Terry said--she should be more controlled on meds than she is. Her current psychiatrist is too reluctant to make changes, tweak her, do what she needs to keep her stable. I have a feeling that until she's older, say in her mid twenties, she's going to have to change meds periodically. Her brain gets "used" to the meds and they cease to do what they should for her. We've dealt with this since she was a young teenager, but now her symptoms with borderline are so much more intense it's positively frightening. She needs a psychiatrist who's willing to switch her meds regardless of his/her own perks from drug companies. Sound cynical? Shoot, I can read her psychiatrist's mind by now. I know what he does and why he does it. Time to find one who actually CARES. They are out there, it's just sometimes an involved process to find one. I don't ever want anyone who reads my entries getting discouraged from my own experiences with psychiatry. It's so much better to look for quality help than to get no help at all. Liz's first psychiatrist was a dream doctor, one of those who kept her palm pilot in the literal palm of her hand and referred to it often, made constant notes about Liz and her particular issues, and it was so obvious that she was in the business because she truly cared for the people she helped. If I can find another one like her Liz will be more than fine, she'll be in great hands. And the therapist she still sees periodically is a good person who is also in the business because she cares. She knows that Liz's problems are beyond her theraputically and she admits it, but she's also willing to be a supportive ear when my daughter needs it. So there ARE decent people in the business of psychiatry. Like most other healthcare fields, you sometimes have to wade through slime-or disinterest-before you reach the good stuff. I do have some leads so I'm certainly not without hope that we'll come across some more quality individuals who will do whatever they can for my daughter. She just needs to hang in there. |
| Nothing like a midnight run to the hospital. Yup, again. No need to go into all of it and the trigger that started it all. She's been down for weeks, I know that. Tonight she sobbed in heartbreaking fashion and said she wishes she had cancer, diabetes, ANYTHING that didn't make her feel like this, like she hates herself. There's no break inside her, never. There's always something swirling around...imagine life with no calm moments, none. Imagine life at times when you've felt torturously horrible and you'll get a hint of an idea about what she lives all day every day of her life. It gets exhausting. Who can help it when it's so tiring to be this way that just ENDING it would be better than the constant neverending high and low, high and low, high and low. It's like being on a rollercoaster with no one at the controls to let you off. She's soooo tired. Me too. |
| Thanks from the bottom of my heart for the positive reinforcement I've received from you who visit me in Blogville. To say I was overwhelmed would be an understatement; not only did I get so many sweet comments, I also received a c-note from the angel wings foundation...thank you to whomever was responsible for that-blinking back tears of gratitude at such care! And to make that stingy-nose thing happen even MORE, I was anonymously gifted with enough gps to ensure that anyone who's entered my "memoirs" contest is assured of some fantastic "participation" gifts!!! I can't believe the giving, caring nature of the people on this site. To be honest, I only wrote yesterday's entry to explain my silence, so that those of you who are good enough to visit my blog [journal] would understand why I suddenly didn't seem to be myself even when I DO find it in me to write. But what I've been given has certainly been a catalyst that's elevated my doldrums and lifted me out of that dark abyss I was swirling in-how can I repay all of you for what you've done? I don't think I ever can. I even received comments and e-mails from people who have never commented in my blog before, but they felt compelled to tell me they cared...what a gift. I know there are many pessimists out there who think the world is going to "hell in a handbasket" and that people just don't CARE anymore-HA! He's never been to WDC before, obviously |
| So much for a blue month, eh? I gave it the old college try...who remembers that saying?! I've been doing the battle with "down in the dumps" this week and feeling monumentally guilty for it, of course. Mothers aren't SUPPOSED to get sick OR depressed, you know. I guess the "dumps" started with my feelings of anger and helplessness about Liz's situation, but it escalated from there. I don't know how many of you have suffered from depression--it's hard to climb out of once I've taken the fall. I visited my own therapist yesterday who gave me some great encouragement and some very solid ideas about Liz. I can't believe I forgot how close we are to a university hospital, DUH! We live about an hour from the University of Iowa. Hey, if they can help Liz I'd travel to the ends of the EARTH! So hopefully I'll soon climb out of the muck in my own head. I hate to admit it, but it will be a positive that my nephews leave for home tomorrow. I love them and really want to be a help to them, but right now I'm drowning in all the people I need to help; my brain is overwhelmed and it needs time to refuel. I don't know how I'm going to do that, but less pressure from needy kids will definately be a step in the right direction. So hopefully I get some serious down time without a lot of demands...we'll see |
| I'm feeling just a bit better this afternoon after a morning in the dumps. This whole thing with Liz is just so depressing, feeling like no one cares or will do anything to help her. I watch her suffer day after day and feeling helpless is the worst thing a parent can face. But after my "investigations" yesterday-which REALLY had me practically in tears-I did find one program that might be helpful. It's called "transitions" and is vocational rehabilitation. At first I thought, "oh this is for mentally CHALLENGED people and that's so not Liz, here we go again with her being too smart, too insured, too SOMETHING for them to help her." I made a phone call, though, and thank God I did. Turns out they are mainly a program geared towards the mentally ill. Not only do they provide job skills training and hands-on experience, they also give therapy and one-on-one counseling when they first start a job...in other words, when someone like Liz starts to feel panic, anxiety, or just like they can't do it, there's one therapist assigned to them who they can contact. AND they have a special program just for "youth," which is 18-21. I'm cautiously optimistic, hoping this program will actually give what it seems to promise. What REALLY makes me angry-again-is that this program is provided through the same hospital Liz has been a part of all year!! Why couldn't that outpatient therapist have told us about it instead of shrugging her shoulders like there's nothing we can do? Like Liz is a lost cause? We won't be visiting that therapist again anytime soon, and I plan to complain about her to anyone who will listen. I know that Liz is a tough case; I get that, duh. I live with her, I KNOW how intense her problems are-I live them with her as much as I attempt to distance myself emotionally. As her mother, that is sometimes impossible. I bleed when she bleeds. So when a therapist or doctor feels that he/she is in over his/her head, it would be very helpful if they would simply admit it so we could move on, so that we could find someone with more experience in "tough case" patients. But instead they hum and haw and act like Liz is the problem, like it's her fault the meds aren't working or their therapy doesn't cut it. Does any patient need that, much less a patient with self esteem issues and who has a history of suicide attempts??? My favorite doctors have been the few we've seen who carry their palm pilots around like bibles and refer to them whenever they don't have an answer, the ones who aren't afraid to open the big medical med books when they truly don't know what else to do. It's those doctors and therapists who have my respect and my loyalty...unfortunately, the few like that we've seen don't practice in our area anymore I think med schools and therapy programs need to teach humility, don't you? ADMIT it when you feel you can't help at this point. Liz's last therapist actually did that, said when Liz is more stable she'd love to have her back, but for the moment Liz is beyond her level of help. Now THERE'S a decent counselor, one who's willing to be honest, one who cares more about the patient's well-being than her own bottom line. We need more of them in the psychiatric profession, we really do. |
| Does anyone have a special energy pill? I really need one. I'm tired and I can't get up I have a house inundated by five kids-one who creates disasters equal to four people all on her own (not always her fault; meds make her fuzzy, forgetful, and sometimes clumsy)-and if I let things go for half a day the place looks like it's been overrun by a band of maurading gypsies. I want to do so much with my writing that I've not been able to do--now it's not so much inertia as it is exhaustion. I know the mental stress of dealing with Liz's newest issues have a lot to do with it, combined with having two young men here who-God love 'em-must be directed step-by-step in any chore I need them to perform or in ANY endeavor. I can see the peculiar look my oldest nephew, 14, throws at me every once in a while. I'm not the "together" Aunt Sue he knows, that's for sure. I'm not as organized or "drill-sargaent" like about the house. I'm too tired. Liz will start up with her demands, and they are many, and I'll feel some more bleed away. The heat wave we're experiencing around here doesn't help, either. I can't function well in heat, and even though I'm in an air conditioned house, I think my body knows what's going on out there...yesterday I spent the DAY out in a heat index of 105...what am I, NUTS?!? My good friend Leah, the younger woman, is leaving on July 31st for a year; she's headed to Taiwan to teach English as a Second Language. I'm happy for her because she's desperate to branch out, experience life, get away from her parents . She's making the right choice for HER, but I sure will miss her. She's one of my lifelines, one thing that keeps me sane in my insane world. We'll still e-mail and keep in touch on the phone. All I can think about is Taiwan=HEAT!!!  I told her I love her but no visits forthcoming!Now Liz is in here again making more demands. Darn, I thought she was taking a nap. She always wants SOMETHING, part of that "empty" feeling with a Borderline. She needs residential in the worst way. Tomorow I search intently for help with her. And for energy. |
| I've spent alot of this day angry, frustrated, hopeless, spent, and generally exhausted. Today Liz had a psychiatrist's appointment mere days after a very infuriating appointment for a follow-up to her outpatient hospital treatment that occurred a month ago. I was excited, thinking we could get her signed up for DBT and get moving with her therapy...get her better! Instead I hit a brick wall and got a nosebleed. The woman asked, first of all, if Liz was insured. Yes she is. She said "oh, then she's not eligible for the program we had in mind for her." What?! Because her parents are responsible people who take care of her and insure her she's not eligable for a program that might actually HELP her?? Suuure, that makes perfect sense *sarcasm evident I hope* Then she proceeded to tell me that Liz is ineligible for the DBT program through the hospital. WHAAATTT!!! She's too young, the woman informed me. The other women in the SINGLE program they offer are aged 40 and above. I'm sorry-venting warning-but that is the DUMBEST THING I'VE EVER HEARD!!!!!! Borderline Personality Disorder usually hits for the first time when the person is a young adult. I understand that there is a need for people who have been left untreated, whose lives are a twisted mess as a result, but for PETE'S SAKE, why can't they get treated BEFORE their lives are a twisted mess???  I asked the woman what we should do now. She stared at me and pretty much shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know," she said. AAAAARRRRGGHHH!!! Then she asked all the rote questions you'd ask someone who's bipolar/borderline: How are you feeling? Worthless, says Liz. Have you thought about suicide recently? Yes, says Liz. Have you participated in substance abuse recently? Yes, says Liz. What do you like about yourself? Nothing, says Liz. Doesn't Liz sound just SOOO stable?!?!?! But the woman stares at me and shrugs. I spent much of that evening very depressed. I feel like wearing a huge cardboard sign: who will help my daughter? Will work for psychiatric therapy. So the appointment today. It was just as bad. I told him she's clearly cycling up to down probably 50 times in the course of a day, from ranting and verbal abuse towards anyone in her path to sobbing inconsolably and talking about "slitting my wrists." She won't discuss her future, she's not sleeping, she's binge eating-has gone up five sizes in three months-and you know what he said to me? He said, "what do you want to do about her?" OH. MY. GOD. What did he WANT ME TO SAY??? "Oh, let's just put her to sleep and be done with it." SHIT!!!! I'm sorry, I'm really, really ticked off again. I said as calmly as I was able, "I don't know, you're the doctor. You tell ME." I mean that IS what I pay the butthead for, right?!?! GOD HELP ME I wanted to leap over the desk and wring his scrawny neck. He upped her dosage of one med and I have to get a blood draw on her. That was after he "lectured" Liz in a way that does absolutely no good. I can't believe all the disapproving looks she's getting from these people, like she's CHOOSING to be unstable. The woman at the outpatient center said with a "tut tut" in her voice; "it says here they don't think you got much from the skills training." Well what a shock. You'd think this was a person in need of more intense, constant therapy than two weeks worth of it wouldn't you. DAMN IT. It's like everywhere I go these people who are supposed to help lift their shoulders helplessly. I'm supposed to let go of her and LET her become an alcoholic drug addict because THEN she'd get some help. I'm supposed to wait for her to break the law in a HUGE way because THEN she'd be eligible for help. I'm supposed to kick her out onto the street and THEN they MIGHT do something for her. If she's really lucky. What the hell do I do with this out-of-control person who sucks up every ounce of my patience and care? I have FOUR other kids in my house who are being neglected in a big way while I do my best to contain Liz and counsel her on my own. I'm mad. |
| How many friends who are "different" from you do you have? That might seem like a strange question, but in perusing blogs this afternoon, I noticed a few entries that had me thinking, "hmm, this person is not like me." There are two sides to this issue bumping around in my head. I think most people tend to, more often than not, gravitate towards people they have something in common with. Before I became a member of WDC, the people I came into contact with were mostly like me; they had children in school and extracurricular activities and we met in that way. I liked the people I met, sure, but I guess I felt sort of "boxed in," if that makes any sense. Now that I have a wider expanse in my social circle (I mean I know someone who's moving from Greece to Turkey ), I FEEL more vibrant, more connected, and more intrigued than I ever did before. Not only do we on this site come from different corners of the globe, we come from different situations. Some are like me with kids who take up a large chunk of our lives . Some have no children and don't plan to. Some have "empty nests" and are experiencing a new phase of life.And as different as our life situations are, so are our personalities and needs. vivacious  wrote today about her need for some planning and stability; I'm completely the opposite Robert Waltz  wrote yesterday about some personal preferences that are so opposite of mine it's amusing, but still I consider him to be one of great talent, insight, and intelligence. I couldn't imagine NOT knowing him! Without this site, though, how would I EVER have come into contact with a person who lives in a state I've never even SEEN, with a life situation and preferences so different from mine? I now have friends from states in this country where I've never been. I know people in other countries that I've never visited. My horizons-and therefore my writing ability-has expanded immensely as a result of corresponding and connecting on this site. And on a different note: as much as we are different, we are the same. We all write, that's why we're here. I've met and connected with people in different life situations, from different generations, and in practically different WORLDS who think like *gasp* ME!! They like to talk about what I like to, they find the same issues important; they are kindred spirits. Before I found this WDC world, I sometimes felt like my brain was turning into marshmellow from the endless "grunt" work that's involved in raising kids, and I didn't know anyone who wanted to talk the way I wanted to, who wanted to expand their world beyond what we can see, who understood how important this "writing" thing is to me or how it's so vital for my mental well-being. Sure I've become a better writer because of the reviewing process and the contests which push us to do more than we might, normally. But in a huge way I've become a better writer because my WORLD has EXPANDED. "Write what you know" is the mantra. Well, now I know MORE! |
| Okay, today is THE DAY. For what, you ask? Today is the day I will make lists of places where I can send that piece about Liz. I will get it ready and send it off however they instruct to do it. I will submit it to at least three publications, my solemn pledge *eyes closed, right hand up pledge-like* I am also going to seriously look into submitting other pieces of mine, as well. If I'm making lists, I might as well do it all the way! So I'll be busy, yes? I'm also going to get started on my Terrace assignment, the one where we are writing a short story to send into "Glimmer Train." Now THAT'S a daunting task. I've submitted to them before, but since then I've read bios from those who get published in the mag...GULP!!! Most of them are very experienced and very degreed. But nothing ventured, nothing gained. AND I'm still limping along with Chewie Kittie and the July Nanoing. I'm not exactly up there with the winners, but the fact is I'm DOING it, and that counts with me I've mentioned it before, but perhaps some don't realize how grave my condition is, this procrastinationism. It's bad, I'm telling you So when I conquer that particular demon, it's a GOOD day! And I'm so far experiencing a BLUE MONTH! I've never done THAT before either, in large part because of that demon guy who lurks in the shadows of my life for my WHOLE life...I'll think, "I should take some time to make a blog entry," and then then the demon will whisper, "oh, do it later," and I'll say OKAY!!  Well enough, I say. Procrastinationism must be purged from my soul and my life! I take up the banner of DOING and ACTION!! Was that a chicken? NO! I won't be...um...distracted... |
| For those who've read this blog pretty regularly for some time, perhaps you remember the old boyfriend I've mentioned here and there, Gary. I even wrote a story about him! Perhaps you'll recall that about a month or so ago I sort of "lost it" with him over his stilted behavior since we resumed correspondence. I'd given him time to loosen up but it just didn't happen. So I pretty much slammed the poor guy and he responded very well, becoming the person I knew him to be, thank goodness! If he'd continued with the stilted stuff I was going to check him for marks of Alien invasion As with most relationships, our connection is sporadic due to busy lives, vacations, and plain procrastination, but today he sent me an e-mail--and it was MY turn for the theoretical smack! The thing about people who've known you forever; they know your weaknesses, your strengths, and if they're really good friends, they force you to notice when the weaknesses seem to be winning. Ahem, Gary did that for me today. I send him my writing every now and then. Not too long ago I sent him the piece I'd written about my oldest daughter Liz, the one about adolescent bipolar disorder. I mainly sent it just so he'd get an idea of what I deal with, so he'd understand when I feel the need to "vent" to him or complain, whine...whatever. But he did more than understand. He asked me what in the world I was doing, sitting on a piece like that when it could help so many people in the same situation He asked me if I'd sent it out to other venues, other magazines...had I burned out a printer sending it out, he wanted to know, and if not, WHY? He told me that he believes God gave Liz to me for a reason, that I have a mission and he can see clearly that I'm up to the mission! You see, this person KNOWS me. I've always been the most satisfied in my life when I'm on a "mission," no question. When I feel no purpose, I languish and become bored, then depressed. Missions are important for me. And here I have one that I've talked about, written about, and would dearly love to take up, but what have I ACTIVELY done to further the cause? I want to change things for kids like Liz, so that they don't fall through the academic cracks that she did, so that they can be given the best start in life-it's the least they deserve, it's the least all mentally challenged young people deserve!! But as much as I feel passion in my soul for this cause, Gary's right. I haven't done much ABOUT it, and then I wonder why I feel bored and then depressed  Duh. Then he asked me what I've done about ALL my writing; where I've sent it, what I've done with it, and who is receiving it--gulp! He told me, again, that I've been given a gift, and if I don't use that gift-if I just sit on it-why was it given to me?! Well, um, I don't...oh gee, SMACK! I'm telling you, he knows me and he knows that I'm not happy if I'm not moving forward. All he did was wake me up about it.Thank goodness for good friends. |
![Merit Badge in Journaling
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I love your writing style Susan, and look forward to reading your blog!](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/type-Journaling-2180.gif) My friend and fellow blogger emmyloo gifted me with this wonderful badge a few days ago What a great surprise to find in my inbox...thank you from the bottom of my heart. If you haven't read HER blog yet, boy are you missing something! Between her and partyof5dj, not to mention Nada and scarlett_o_h, I wear a depends when I sit down to read blogs these days  And speaking of depends, did you catch andrew 's blog today? I couldn't decide if he's disgusting or hilarious, then I figured he's both (spoiler alert: Andrew went and changed his blog on me...but trust me, the earlier one  ) But he's still cuter than a bug's left ear!And have you read the blog of Kåre Enga in Montana  ? I can't believe how prolific and talented that man is...do yourself a favor if you haven't already and VISIT THAT BLOG! Okay, and Robert Waltz has the BEST blog in THE GALAXY! And he says down on the "comments" that I didn't mention it...I mean can't the man READ?? But seriously, I DID return to say that Robert's intelligence is something to behold...so go behold it, already!I wanted to take this moment when I'm mentioning the wealth of blogging talent to remind EVERYONE about an important function of writing.com...REVIEWING. I know so many people who mention that they've read something, but when I ask if they rated or reviewed it, the answer is often "not yet," or "I haven't had a chance." If you can READ it, you can RATE it. Perhaps you don't feel you have anything to offer, but that's a fallacy. Give the writer-even of the blogs you read daily-a simple little "I like this" or "I think you can improve this" about their writing. OR even AT LEAST rate any piece of writing you find the time to read; that's what we're here for, after all. Some on the site don't like a rating without a review, and if you're going to give less than a 4 I'd have to agree; give any writer on this site the same consideration YOU'D want and take the time to explain WHY their piece warrants a lower rating. I didn't mean to get preachy, I hope it didn't sound too much like that but I know how gratified I feel when I see reviews in my inbox, even if the reviews aren't always glowing. I know how frustrated I sometimes get when I notice the amount of VIEWS compared to the amount of REVIEWS of my work; I believe that we should GIVE what we wish to GET...reviews. |
| I've had a headachy morning. I've had a headachy WEEKEND. The Liz has to shake things up when they get too routine or we get lulled into some false idea of stability God love her-seriously. I allowed my 18-yr-old to "spend the night" with friends Friday night after two weeks of pretty even moods. She's had her moments of "low" and "high," but nothing that didn't seem to resolve within a matter of hours-the rapid cycling. She should be more controlled on meds, but what's a person to do? I can't lock her in a room and nail the door shut. Sure I'd LIKE to but I think it's against the law or something. To be blunt and honest, I was looking forward to a night of peace and the ability to spend time on the computer and phone without "duking it out" over both with my beautiful oldest child, sigh. She's kinda possessive of both and it's constant arguments amongst the children AND myself to get her to relenquish her holds--yes, part of her condition is the obssessiveness. But it was not to be. Mere minutes before I was supposed to call my buddy Shawn-bigsigh-she came walking through the door! Apparently there'd been fighting between another friend and herself over Liz's thoughtless, tactless, and impulsive decision to call the girl's ex-boyfriend. Now Liz doesn't MEAN to be rude or hurtful, she really doesn't. It's this impulsivity in her that does it-she doesn't THINK before she ACTS. I like Liz's friend and could completely understand her position, although I certainly couldn't voice that to Liz at the moment. Part-and-parcel of her Borderline disorder: she saw the anger of her friend as only directed at HERSELF and only about LIZ and had no concept of what she'd done wrong. She was agitated, hurt, crying and raging in alternate SECONDS. Needless to say, my quiet night was so over. The next day she was alternately depressed and raging for pretty much the duration. She slept alot and refused to come to the movie with us--that worried me so I stayed home too, not wishing to leave and have her do something stupid. So she slept and I "played" on WDC in between loads of laundry... Then this morning the defiance. She refused to attend church and screamed that she'd "kill me in my sleep." The beginning to another "auspicious" day. Once again I sent the others off and stayed with my highly troubled daughter. But THIS time I wasn't going to put up with it. I let SOME of my anger about her behavior rain down on her, careful to pull it back when I could tell she was going to internalize it instead of DEAL with it; it's a tightrope walk with her ALWAYS. She needs to be accountable, but only to a point because she does what is called "splitting," which is seeing things as "all good" or "all bad." If I'm angry at her she must be "all bad," right? So there was the hour-long discussion that there are two parts to Liz...the part that is HER-funny, personable, witty, smart, fun: and the part that is her BEHAVIOR-risky, defiant, dangerous, stupid. What she DOES is not who she IS. Believe it or not, this is a difficult concept for her to grasp, she can't seperate the two. We finally reached "breakthrough" to a small degree, which is really all I can ask for at this point. Why did I chronicle my weekend with Liz? Because I think it's important for everyone to understand what those with mood disorders go through-how she's stable for a couple of weeks and then SURPRISE! Those who live with people who have mood disorders are taken on constant roller coaster rides, and most of the time they're not fun. Liz cried that "no one likes her," and I didn't say no. What I told her is that no one likes the Borderline part, where she literally wrings people dry with her intensity and demands. HER they love, Borderline they fear. If you meet someone who has this disorder you'll never forget it, believe me. They're intense to a degree that makes the rest of us breathless and demanding on a level that feels "stalkerish." You don't want one of these people zeroing in on YOU, it's scary. Can they come out of it? Yes, but only with intensive, constant therapy. See, Liz was supposed to be in a DBT program already (that's the therapy which works best for Borderline Personality Disorder), but the hospital screwed up and we have to wait until the next session starts, which won't be for another few weeks. Until then I'm left to do my best in dealing with this. Wish me luck. And tomorrow I'm going to plug people like I'd planned to do today... |
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