Wednesday, November 23, 2011

What is Mental Illness?


Have you or anyone else ever said someone looks retarded? What did they look like? Were you describing their clothes or their hair, maybe their glasses or smile? Calling someone retarded is ridiculous. People don't ask for a mental illness, and it’s nothing to joke about. People who have one are born or develop their mental illness; there is no right or wrong way that people look. What are some of the major mental illnesses? 

Mental illness does not have an appearance, you have no right to judge anyone. I just ask next time before you judge someone, think about your implications and actions. Words really do sting. They've had enough of a hard life, please be kind. I treat people the way I wish to be treated, with respect and love. 


Monday, November 14, 2011

Current and Future Relationship with my Family


Someone asked me how I have coped and dealt with the things life has thrown at me. I have never been a very religious person, but I firmly believe in karma. It has taken lots of time and growing up to learn that I cannot change the past. I know if I let myself stay miserable then I'll never make it anywhere in life. I've overcame many obstacles in my life, and I'm sure I'll keep going. The only thing I can change about any of this is how I reflect upon the past. My attitude is the only thing I can change. Despite having so many bad things etched into my memory, I try to remember positives too. Part of this blog is to try to reflect on the positive parts because they are hard to remember for me.

The current relationship I have with my mother & brother are quite different. My brother has been through a lot, and I'll never understand most of it. He has worked many jobs, collects SSI, treats women as a piece of meat, and has never been to jail. After he was 18 he took off and ended up at a homeless shelter in Flint without any meds. He decided for whatever reason that he didn't need any of the meds that doctors had spent 10 years getting just right. Due to his violent, explosive nature I haven't spent much time with him since we were teens. There have only been a few times I have seen him. One time was just before last Christmas, it was the first time we had ever cooperated long enough to go in together to get our mother a Christmas present, which she didn't like in the end. Shortly after he decided that I was a horrible person for my life choices and threatened to come shoot me in my apartment. I called the city cops to report the threat so it was at least on file, they informed me that if he shows up to give them a call back! Luckily he never followed through with his threat, and I think he's forgotten about it since. I haven't spoken to him in nearly a year; I doubt that we ever could have much of a relationship. I can never understand where his anger stems from or why he does what he has. I have heard things about him due to living in the same town; like that he was on steroids. I have heard from my father of how racist he is, being very offensive last summer in front of my uncle, who is black and been part of our family since before we were ever born. I have heard from my half-sister how hateful he was towards our infant nephew. I feel sorry for him, but I have to look out for myself too.

My mother is a very rocky road. In general she still treats me the same way as when I was growing up. She still snips at me sometimes and carries a demanding tone of voice on the phone. I am not comfortable trying to initiate a conversation with her, as she carries this attitude that leaves me feeling worse than before I had spoken with her a majority of the time. Since I had moved out our relationship has gone through some phases. When I first moved out she would find random boxes of things that belonged to me and want me to take them home. She would get other things for me, such as towels and clothes that I didn't need. I finally had to tell her that although I appreciated the thought, I really don't need anything else. It was lukewarm, with few conversations for a few years. When I had a horrible situation and asked her for help, she turned her back on me. I have tried to forgive since but it’s difficult. In the last year since my nephew was born (sister's baby) my mother has wanted me around a lot more. She told me one time that I'm useless unless I have a baby. She has never supported me going to school for a degree, instead she believes I should have had a baby and done nothing with my life. It’s hard sometimes when I'm struggling with my own thoughts of the future. I just keep trying my best, in the end I know that I'll be a better mother one day; I'll love my child and tell them that every single day. I cannot remember ever hearing those words out of her mouth. 

I wish everyone a good day, and remember to tell those around you how much you love them. You never know what the future is bringing. 

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Drugs: Helpful or Harmful?

It's incredible how something that is promoted as being so good for you can hold the potential to harm you as well. It really makes you wonder how many things in life are promoted as being safe and healthy for you, yet can be slowly killing you. It's amusing to think how doctors had recommended smoking as beneficial as well! I've heard many benefits of drinking green tea. In my own obsession with providing proof as I talk about things, I came across the side effects of drinking too much green tea, anemia. While something can be good, it is possible to be harmful at the same time.

Throughout the last century people were treated like guinea pigs with psychotropic drugs, especially children. Sadly the medical society was not completely aware of the short term and long term effects of these drugs and treatments they were developing. I see the effects in my life, as we were told my brother had developed turrets after being placed on many drugs experimentally. I can't go into many details for privacy of some of the people I work for, but I have witnessed some pretty sad side effects from the drugs that these people have been given for years. Some were placed on medications 50+ years ago. I read that Traverse City State Hospital had given patients cocaine as treatment for their mental illnesses! COCAINE! The medical community I would guess thought of their patients as guinea pigs to try different drugs on and see what happens. Makes me wonder what went through their mind.

In the last 20 years there have been huge strides made to advance psychotropic medications, drugs that adjust chemicals in one's brain. I am very impressed with how medications have changed, how there are less side effects, and how doctors are lately encouraging to reduce doses or eliminate unnecessary medications. I wonder where in the next few decades medication industry will be. Everyone is different so there is no magic answer to solve problems. Sadly some people decide for whatever reasons that they will self-medicate, or eliminate their medications. It makes it difficult for the person with the mental illness when they self-medicate, quit medications, or are not on the right drug or dosage. Their lives are a struggle as well as the people around them, who feel helpless. They want to help but there is no absolute correct answer.

Life is never easy. My favorite life quote from Finding Nemo was Dory and her chanting "Just keep swimming" with a smile on her face.

Monday, November 7, 2011

Roller Coaster Life

I always felt out of place. My mother and I never had a close relationship. She has been diagnosed with depression, although I believe it to be bipolar. Reading articles someone described growing up with her dad having mental illness as a being on a roller coaster of life. This describes it perfectly! She has the mood swings that are average, with some highs and lows. There are definitely good times where I have felt like my mother was a good person to me, but those times are few and far in between. Most of the time I am treated average to poor, with a few really low times. For some reason the good times don't stick in my memory as well as the bad do. The bad are etched into my memory.

I was about 19 and it was just me and her in the house. One of us started the fight; I don't even remember what it was about. Before I know it she is inches from my face screaming at me, spit flying out of her mouth onto my face. Her breath reeked so bad that I was trying to not gag. She said the most hateful things that a mother can ever tell her child. She told me I was a whore, the biggest disappointment of her life, how she regretted having me, how she wishes I had never been born, how she wants nothing to do with me. The verbal battering continued, I don't remember if I had yelled back, or what I had said. We never got physical, only verbal. I blacked out from the mental pain and rage. The next thing I remember is looking around my bedroom and my arm is dripping blood everywhere and she is nowhere to be seen. I had cut my own arm. I ducked into the bathroom to wrap my arm and called my best friend. She raced up and helped me calm down and clean up the blood. I was left with a large scar on my left arm; it sticks out and is about 4 inches long. It's a permanent reminder of how to not act when I have children. I tried to talk with her about it later that week, she said nothing happened; she has no clue what I'm talking about. She got really mad and started screaming at me again. From what I can gather, she either has no recollection, or does and refuses to acknowledge her actions.

Another bad fight was over vouchers for free game play at the casino! My dad had offered me his voucher because he wouldn't get time off work to go before they expired. My mother decided that she had the right to his no matter what he wished with them. She goes to the casino a few times a week, though never spends too much that I've been made aware of. She called me and told me she was taking the voucher and I couldn't have it, I replied that I had made plans to go with a friend and had counted on it. She began to yell at me that she can do whatever she wishes and hung up on me. Later she called me back and told me that I had caused her & my dad to fight and everything was my fault. She told me that I was the biggest regret of her life, everything bad in her life is my fault, I've caused her so much pain and she hates me for it, she wishes I wasn't her daughter. I was so stunned I couldn't reply, I just sat on the phone crying. I didn't talk with her for over a month. I finally tried to talk with her about what had happened and she denied saying anything hurtful. She blacked out! She remembers ripping up the tickets and fighting, but doesn't remember saying anything hateful to me.


One of the good times I can remember is driving with her to go see my grandma's grave this past spring. We didn't really talk the whole drive, just sat in peace while I drove. We took pictures of the entrance sign from the road, and pictures of the trees my great-aunt had planted I believe near the family plot. She told me a few stories about our family and then the conversation just sort of died off. We just don't relate on many levels, she doesn't understand and doesn't desire to try. Through the past I have learned to keep things to myself. When I am at her house now, I try to have minimal conversation with her. I have been there more this summer than in the last few years. I wanted to visit my nephew Brody. I feel like I am walking on egg shells, although she is in a much better mood when little Brody is around. Maybe one day things will change when I have a child.

Saturday, November 5, 2011

How do you grow up with a mentally ill brother?


What does it look like to grow up with a sibling and parent having a mental illness? Like me.

It started long before me when my parents were in high school in a suburb of Detroit, MI. They hated each other; however 20 years later met at a wedding and went out. They got married shortly later and not long after I came around. 14 months after I was born my brother came along as well. He was always a hyper child; I seemed very average in comparison. He was a bundle of energy, swinging from a telephone wire 10 feet off the ground at 3 years old. As I grew up, I was the one quietly witnessing everything from the sidelines. There were a lot of fights, sometimes I got into them for the attention, because my brother had certainly soaked up most of my parent's energy and attention.

When I was 10 things got so much worse. I was stabbed with a fork during a fight. My brother was sent away to a short term facility for the mentally ill. After receiving medications and counseling he was sent home, however nothing had changed. After blowing up one morning, he came after me with a 30lb huge sludge hammer and came within inches of smashing my skull in. He was sent to a different facility for the same amount of time. Again he was released after a change in meds and more counseling. I had a butcher knife held to my throat after being in another fight with him. The third time he was sent down state to a larger facility for over a year. My parents made the 3 hour drive to see him at least once a week, sometimes dragging me against my will.

After he was released from this facility things were never the same. He had been diagnosed with 4 things: Bipolar, Turrets, ADHD, and a rage disorder. During this time I had lost my grandma and family. I had been very much alone for about a year, I was 12 years old and trying to grow up. All the sudden I was being put back into the fights. Things are a bit of a blur because of my depression and suicide attempts. I was miserable being the loner at school, and miserable at home listening to the fights. Things were bad with my mother too. I was a hermit in my bedroom just waiting to escape.

During my senior year I got my driver's license and allowed to drive my dad's spare van. It was my first taste of freedom and happiness in a very long time. I started to come out of my depression and saw light at the end. I just wanted to graduate high school and get on with some sort of a life. I thought the best route to take was to do everything at once! I signed up for a community college and went part time; I worked part time, and partied part time. In hind sight, I'm glad I did it. I experienced a bit of everything, I got my own car. I stayed everywhere I could, but officially with my parents.