Awakened

About four months ago, I had a mental breakdown.
There were a number of contributing factors;
I was ill and very thin from side effects from medication, I was also in the middle of a break up with my partner of nine months; a breakup my partner did not want, I had just lost my mother from Alzheimer's the previous October and was still in deep grief, both of my sons whom I love dearly were planning on moving away very soon to begin new lives, I was fifty three and looking at my life alone and frightened out of my wits and there was a tremendous amount of stress in the household.

These things did not cause my breakdown but they did contribute to it.
And so I went into a deep dark decline that I believed I would not come out of.
I was so sure of it that I decided on cremation because of cost and checked with an attorney about a will to be drawn up and decided to half my school funds for college between both of my sons for when I was no longer around.
In other words, I was going to commit suicide...

During that time where it was always midnight, I wept at the slightest provocation, which turned out to be constantly. I slept whenever and wherever I could, since my sleep cycle was so off, there would be times where I would not be able to sleep for a straight 48-72 hours, and so I was always exhausted mentally, physically and emotionally. I walked around in a medicated daze, not knowing what I was doing or saying and not even caring.

I did not want to talk...to anyone, not even to my brothers or sister.
I felt so completely alone in my suffering that I could not imagine anyone conceiving even slightly what I was going through and I was too exhausted to explain.
Not that my siblings tried that hard as we are not a close family and that is putting it mildly.
I received one phone call from my younger brother asking what was going on and when I didn't have the words to answer, he told me to call him back when I could talk.
I didn't call back.

I took it day by day, enduring the most intense emotional pain that I believe I have ever
experienced in my life, so intense that it became almost a physical thing.
I thought I would literally die from it and spent many a day and night in my ex partners arms
sobbing in deep pain and grief.
And I believed that if it didn't kill me, I would kill myself because I could not live through such horrible pain.
I began to give my things away and make necessary decisions and so became very peaceful in my emotional state.
I felt as though a great burden had been lifted.
I could finally breathe again. And I was, for the first time in a very long time, at peace.

Not so for my immediate family who were terrified and worried sick.
I refused to be hospitalized, explaining that I was choosing to handle things differently this time.
My sons were not fooled nor was my ex-partner who wasted no time in calling a 'Family Intervention' to confront me about my illness and how it was affecting the family.
The intervention was a failure as it ended with me sobbing in guilt and hysterical over the pain I was causing my sons. I simply could not see clearly enough to be reasoned with.

My family was at a loss so they simply waited, watched and gently cared for me.

It wasn't until my ex-partner's sister Monica came to stay that I had an awakening that saved me.

Monica is a twenty three year old singer/ songwriter who travels on the road.
Immensely talented, fiercely independent, wise beyond her years; it was she who after I had
given her an armload of my things as a gift, began to talk to me about my decision to end my life.
At the time I did not believe I was hearing her, but I was.

A day or so later, Monica left to go to Austin for a few days with musician friends she had
randomly met in downtown Dallas in a single night, in a town she had never been in.
Before she had left, she and Dylan had invited me to Florida to a 'Rainbow Gathering' for
several days of campfires, camp songs, camaraderie and total acceptance.
I hadn't given her an answer but told her I would think about it.

However, when she got back, I told not only would I go, but that I wanted one more chance to be happy. And that I would get down on my knees for one more chance. And that I would try really hard...to be happy.
And you want to know something amazing? I WAS Happy...
Because I made the 'Conscious Decision To BE Happy'.

Monica and Dylan were so overjoyed that they both jumped up and hugged me at once and my sons
are now reassured that 'Mom' is back on the road to recovery.
But it isn't as simple as it may seem. My recovery also requires a change of psychiatrist, a search for a new therapist and commitment to weekly therapy sessions, constant readjustment on my medication...it takes constant work on my part to STAY Happy because I have a brain disorder
that fights against me. When I start to become overwhelmed, I just think,"That means it's 'Me time'... Time to make 'Me' smile...

It Is All Worth It ... Because Life Really Is Beautiful!

And to my wonderful, amazing and loyal family and Friends; I Love You all Dearly With All Of My Heart. Thank You For Holding My Hand In The Dark. You All Are My Soul And My Heart Beat.

And Monica? You Are Awesome!

Until Next Time My Dear Friends...

Love and Light To You All,
LadiofZen

I'm Going Home

On the day I went away... goodbye...
Was all I had to say... now I...
I want to come again and stay... Oh my my...
Smile, and that will mean that I may

Cause I've seen blue skies, through the tears
In my eyes
And I realize.. I'm going home.

Everywhere it's been the same... feeling...
Like I'm outside in the rain... wheeling...
Free, to try and find a game... dealing...
Cards for sorrow, cards for pain

Cause I've seen blue skies through the tears
In my eyes
And I realize.. I'm going home.

I'm going home, I'm going home.

~ Recorded by Tim Curry from The Rocky Horror Picture Show

Dedicated to Gary Marq Baugh, with Love.

Seeing the Faces of the Mentally Ill

The picture above of me isn't a pretty one but it is a true one. Snapped by my partner at a time when I was struggling with depression, it shows me looking my worst; without sleep and exhausted and looking back into a painful past. A hopeless exercise but one that those of us who struggle with mental illness will relate to.
I don't have one mental illness...I have several. And I am still standing...despite myself and my mental disorders.

How do you view the mentally ill? What do you think to yourself when you see 'a crazy person' on the street? Is it funny or curious to watch? Or do you think to yourself, as I do, 'But for the Grace of God, go I'?

Almost everyone has someone in their family or even someone they know who has struggled with mental illness. Statistics say that one in four adults over the age of eighteen or 25% of individuals will suffer a debilitating mental illness in their lifetime. Approximately 20.9 million American adults, or about 9.5 percent of the U.S. population age 18 and older in a given year, have a mood disorder and depressive disorders often co-occur with anxiety disorders and substance abuse.

Which brings me to Stephen. I first met Stephen when he was 16 after being brought home by my son Josh, as they went to high school together. Stephen became without any effort at all, 'my other son'. He began to eat meals at our home and became a constant fixture at our house and suffice to say, I love him dearly.

That he was a bit odd was a given. He was also funny, intelligent and very outgoing. And after all, he was a teenager and trying, as my son was, to find himself.
But there came a day when I could no longer ignore the fact the he absolutely refused to eat at home and so I sat him down, face to face and asked him why.
He told me calmly and without a blink of an eye that he thought his parents were trying to poison him. Shocked and upset, I tried to convince him otherwise, but it did no good. He believed what he believed...period. I also spoke with his mother who was aware of the problem but unsure how to deal with it. She told me that since his aunt's death who had resided with them, he had refused to eat anything that he had not bought and opened himself. His mother had also shared that Stephen had been the one to find his aunt deceased on the kitchen floor and that he had been traumatized by it.

That was the beginning...

When Stephen was 17, he went to a concert and to this day, no one, not even my son who is his closest friend, knows what happened because Stephen has never spoken of it, at least not to us. But something did happen and Stephen was forever changed.
He became reclusive to the point that he refused to leave the house at all or stay in contact with any of his friends. The daily visits to our house stopped and my son, Joshuea concerned and worried, tried to help by visiting and talking to find out what had occurred that had caused such a devastating change in his best friend. But Stephen wasn't talking...at least not to Josh.
He was speaking...to the voices in his head. In his early twenties, Stephen was diagnosed with schizophrenia.

The diagnosis was for me and for my son Joshuea, devastating, as I am sure it was a hundred times more so for his parents. He was put on medication which caused massive weight gain and as the years have gone by, his condition has deteriorated because Stephen refuses to take his medication due to the side effects.

The last time I saw Stephen, which was about a year ago, his mother had come to bring him for a visit. As I stood off at a distance speaking with his mother about his condition, which was worsening, I happened to glance up, concerned that he might overhear. As I looked over and my eyes met his, I watched his lips as they silently moved while he whispered to the voices in his head that no one else could hear and I knew that while his body may have been there, his mind was a million miles away.
I went over and hugged him and looking into his eyes, I told him how very much I loved him. I told him to always remember I was there for him and to never forget if he needed me, to call or get in touch with me any way he could.
I hope and I pray he heard me.

After they had gone, I went inside and sat down and wept...for 'my other son', Stephen, who had somehow gotten lost in a foreign land with no means to get back.

Stephen continues to live with his parents and his condition continues to deteriorate.

The next time you see someone who is acting strangely or a bit odd, think twice or better yet, how about thinking thrice? And while you are at it, do your best to really 'see' that person with compassion and empathy.
Please remember that mental illness takes no prisoners. It could be your best friend or it could be a member of your family...or it could be You.

We are all ONE...


Until next time My Dear Friends,

LadiofZen

The Frightening World of Calalini...

Jani is seven years old. She is a very bright (IQ of 146) little girl with a headful of tangled curls and endless energy. She is also a severe schizophrenic. She lives in the world of Calalini, a world she says that is the border between her world and ours. She has over two hundred imaginary friends; 200 the rat, Magical 61 the cat, two little girls named 100 degrees and 24 hours and 400 the cat, are just a few of the many that inhabit her realm. Doctors say that only one per cent of Americans suffer from schizophrenia and most become ill in their teenage years with one in ten ending in suicide. Jani's case is one of the most severe and the most rare; a child born with schizophrenia. There is only one other case of a child being diagnosed with schizophrenia so young, at age six. Jani suffers from hallucinations, delusions and rages so severe that even her own parents are frightened of her. She is on enough medication to topple an adult and yet even the heavy cocktail of drugs she takes to help control her disease, barely seem to touch it.

Because Jani is prone to violence and has kicked and bitten her baby brother, her parents have two apartments they can barely afford and care for Jani in shifts.  Susan, a former radio traffic reporter and Michael, a college English instructor, try to figure out how to protect their eighteen month old son and provide as much stability as possible for their devastatingly ill daughter. Recently, Jani was on Oprah but the interview did not go well and Oprah's frustration was evident as she tried to interview Jani amidst Jani's violent protests that she did not want to talk! 

Unless someone steps in and helps this poor family, the outlook will only get bleaker. Schizophrenia is a progressive disease which means as sick as Jani is, she will only get sicker. And what then? Will she be hospitalized to live her life out institutionalized? Doctors are at loss on how to help Jani. If she were in her teens, there might be a hope of finding a way to control her psychotic behavior, but she is only a little girl who was unlucky enough to be born with one of the most devastating of diseases.  There are simply no resources to care for a child so young with such a serious mental disorder. Jani's father worries the heavy doses of medication will kill his daughter but if she doesn't take the drugs prescribed, she might kill herself. And her parents have begun to lose hope.

Who will come forward to help Jani? Oprah has championed many charities and causes. Why can't Jani not be one of them? And as my son Josh has said, "Why can't doctors study Jani's brain not only to help her but to also help the thousands of people who suffer just like her?" And my question to my son was,"Why can't someone start a website to raise money for Jani's care?" But even with unlimited funds, there is no cure for this disease. No magic pill to make it go away and no special place Jani can go that will be the ultimate answer. My heart aches for this family, for this little girl and I want to help so I will be building a website. I will let you all know when it is up and ready. Until then, please pray for Jani and her family because as it looks right now, it's up to God.  

Until next time...

Love and Light to All,

LadiofZen 

For the full story of Jani and her family go to http://www.latimes.com/features/health/la-he-schizophrenia29-2009jun29,0,5289139,full.story