I am so very thankful that Miss Girl acted out of character tonight! She is usually a mother hen, who will get others to do what they are supposed to do, even if it means physically guiding them....
I heard the toilet flush in their bathroom, after she'd already been in bed two hours, then I heard the soft patter of little feet coming toward my room. She peered through the open door and whispered loudly, "daddy, the toys didnt go night-night."
She then grabbed my hand, and dragged me to the bathroom, where the bath is still occupied with water and toys. Lil Miss had started crying during Girls bath, so we finished up, and I took her with me to go tend to the baby, forgetting about the bath....
Thank God she didnt try to get the toys out herself, because they have trouble getting in and out of the bathtub, and God forbid she'd slipped and hit her head, and possibly fallen into the water.....would I have heard it?
Lil Miss is officially 6mo old. Its bittersweet, in that my first daughter never made it to that milestone, passing away at 5m27d. (SIDS) Ive been a bit more anxious as that milestone grew nearer, as I was when the twins neared it. Its sometimes easy to forget that kids aren't invincible, even as I sit here now, with a 6mo, my mother hen safely back in bed, and my son recovering from heart surgery in the hospital.
The one child who I didn't think I had to worry about, ended up being the one that could have been seriously injured, or worse!
Im going to try not to beat myself up over this, but it does reiterate how important it is to not only teach boundaries, but also to keep aware of your environment, because teaching doesn't always work.
We have taught the twins over and over that they are not to be in the bathtub (or pool, pond, lake, deep puddle, ocean, etc) without an adult there. But they don't always listen to rules, and that could have very easily been the case.
Or, had this happened a few months down the road, it could have been Lil Miss, reaching for one of the duckies.
My nightly check includes securing everything in the kitchen, and all the downstairs windows and doors (windows are usually open during the day, because of our temperate weather), the lights, the windows in the kids room and nursery (putting the twins sippy cups in the mini-fridge, as well) and quick overview of the rooms (make sure monitor is working, nothing is in the crib, or near it, make sure twins haven't stashed anything, etc). The bathroom wasn't something that occurred to me to check, since it has no windows. But, alas, my Parent-brain kicks in. Forgetting to drain the bathtub. I will be including it for now on.
Being a parent is like working in the IT field. You have to constantly be upping your game, or you risk mild-to-severe consequences. You cant still be trying to baby-pad the brick fireplace when your kid is now running out into traffic. You have to stay ahead of the game, or at least keep up!
My random thought, my little stories, and my dearest memories all rolled in to one crazy blog
30 April 2013
12 April 2013
That kid
Walking down the hall, feeling like he's being watched.
Quickening his pace, he reaches his locker, changes out his books, and rushes off to his next class.
He arrives before anyone else, breathes a sigh of relief to have made it safely, and takes a seat, ready for the quiz he knows is coming.
He shared several of the same teachers as his older sister, and after class collects the work to take home to her, while she is out sick. He makes small talk with the teacher, updating her on his sister, and discussing the quiz. It had been easy for him, as usual, the patterns and puzzles unfolding their solutions, quickly, in his head. He didn't intend to be a "teachers pet", but the teachers were some of the few in the school who didn't cast him aside because of how his brain works. Unfortunately, his teacher shoos him on his way, not allowing him to be late for his next class.
A quick jab to his shoulder is all he endures, walking to the opposite end of the hall, but he knows this next class will be less than pleasant. He takes his assigned seat, diagonally in front of one of the kids that has made his year a living hell. This teacher, not being as considerate as his other teacher, believes that kids need to learn to stand up for themselves, and therefore refused to move his desk, when he finally asked several weeks earlier.
He endures quiet name-calling as the clock drags on like honey in a snowstorm. He is hit by several paper balls in the back, before his classmate escalates to pencils. He does his best to ignore him, knowing that reacting will fuel these antics. He focuses on his worksheet, counting down the minutes until the bell.
When it finally rings, he gathers his books quickly, and darts for the door, but not quickly enough, as his classmate gets there at the same time, and shoves him into the door frame.
He takes the long way to lunch, avoiding any traps that lay in wait. When he purchases his lunch, he makes his way to his usual table. Though his sister is not there to watch over him, her friends still let him sit at the table, and they are nice enough not to give him a hard time, like the rest of the kids. He's a bit different than most of the kids at the school. His name doesn't match his parents, or his sister. He is a foster child, an "unwanted" in the eyes of the other students. He is a smart kid, and is 2 years ahead of his peers in his classes, but that wont reconcile their opinions of him. He doesn't fit in, whether he tries or not, and the other kids don't make it easy.
A little background on his town:
There are less than 10,000 residents, and there are more grocery stores (2) than airport employees (1 f/t). In the last 10 years, you were more likely to get killed by a tornado (4 people) than by another person (2 murders). There are more cops (19) than there have been fatal car crashes (17) in the last 35yrs.
There are 2 elementary schools, one middle, and one high school, each one hosting between 400-600 students. There are less than 1% of households with children who are not the biological children of the household heads. It is a 90% White community, with less than 2.5% Hispanic residents
After lunch, its time to head upstairs for Spanish class. He is at an advantage, in that he grew up speaking Spanish, but it only proves to make him more of a pariah. He tries to keep his head down in class, but the teacher doesn't allow him to not partake. She calls on him several times, and though he hesitates with his answers, they are correct, earning him a piercing glare from his main bully. When their last tests are handed back to them, there are groans and moans from the masses, and the teacher suggests the other students should seek his help studying. This serves only to alienate him further.
When the bell rings, he is slow to rise, hoping to miss the crowds on his way to his last class.
The halls are sparsely populated when he makes his way to the stairs.
As he steps through the fire doors, at the top of the stairs, a blur comes out from a corner, and pushes him to the floor. His books slide across the floor, scattering his papers everywhere. When he tries to grab his book, it is kicked off the landing, taking what seemed like ages to hit the floor below them.
He scrambles to the railing, trying to get to his feet, when he is struck in the back, knocking the wind out of him, and causing him to hang on to the rail for support.
He is called names, told he is weak and pathetic. He is spit on, and told he is worthless. Wiping the spit from his arm, he tries to get to his feet, but is grabbed, and shoved against the rail again. So close to the edge, he loses his balance and feels himself falling down the stairs. He reaches out to catch himself, and is rewarded with a disturbing snap, as his arm collapses beneath him. He cries out in pain, as he continues tumbling, eventually coming to a stop on the landing, hitting his head against the wall as he rolls to a stop.
His screams alerted several teachers, who come running from the second floor. As his attackers run away, one of them kicks him, with malice, or just trying to escape, its unclear.
When the teachers reach him, he is unable to get up, with sharp pains pulsing through his rib cage. This is the first time he notices the metallic taste in his mouth, as one of the teachers run to find a phone. He tries to bring his hand to his mouth, but finds his left arm angled oddly, with searing pain. He pulls it into his lap, cradling it. His teacher pulls out a napkin, and wipes away the bloody spit thats dribbling off his chin.
When the paramedics arrive, he is carefully placed on a stretcher and transported to the local clinic. He is diagnosed with a broken arm, several bruised ribs, and a gash in his lip, from where his teeth dug in when he hit the rail. He also has a concussion, and was kept overnight.
The school suspended him and the other students involved (that they were able to identify) in the fight. They recommended to his parents that he be removed from the school and transferred to a different school, stating if another incident happened, they would have to expel him.
He finished the school year at a school 30min away. Having to wake up an hour early to make it to school in time. He was closely supervised at all times.
Upon completion of the school year, his parents researched alternatives, and were afforded the opportunity for him to study abroad. On scholarship, he made it into a school in Europe, one which promised a safe environment for him to learn, and offered the stimulation he craved.
His next school year started off slight, but he made several friends, and found his in helping tutor several of the rugby players.
Quickening his pace, he reaches his locker, changes out his books, and rushes off to his next class.
He arrives before anyone else, breathes a sigh of relief to have made it safely, and takes a seat, ready for the quiz he knows is coming.
He shared several of the same teachers as his older sister, and after class collects the work to take home to her, while she is out sick. He makes small talk with the teacher, updating her on his sister, and discussing the quiz. It had been easy for him, as usual, the patterns and puzzles unfolding their solutions, quickly, in his head. He didn't intend to be a "teachers pet", but the teachers were some of the few in the school who didn't cast him aside because of how his brain works. Unfortunately, his teacher shoos him on his way, not allowing him to be late for his next class.
A quick jab to his shoulder is all he endures, walking to the opposite end of the hall, but he knows this next class will be less than pleasant. He takes his assigned seat, diagonally in front of one of the kids that has made his year a living hell. This teacher, not being as considerate as his other teacher, believes that kids need to learn to stand up for themselves, and therefore refused to move his desk, when he finally asked several weeks earlier.
He endures quiet name-calling as the clock drags on like honey in a snowstorm. He is hit by several paper balls in the back, before his classmate escalates to pencils. He does his best to ignore him, knowing that reacting will fuel these antics. He focuses on his worksheet, counting down the minutes until the bell.
When it finally rings, he gathers his books quickly, and darts for the door, but not quickly enough, as his classmate gets there at the same time, and shoves him into the door frame.
He takes the long way to lunch, avoiding any traps that lay in wait. When he purchases his lunch, he makes his way to his usual table. Though his sister is not there to watch over him, her friends still let him sit at the table, and they are nice enough not to give him a hard time, like the rest of the kids. He's a bit different than most of the kids at the school. His name doesn't match his parents, or his sister. He is a foster child, an "unwanted" in the eyes of the other students. He is a smart kid, and is 2 years ahead of his peers in his classes, but that wont reconcile their opinions of him. He doesn't fit in, whether he tries or not, and the other kids don't make it easy.
A little background on his town:
There are less than 10,000 residents, and there are more grocery stores (2) than airport employees (1 f/t). In the last 10 years, you were more likely to get killed by a tornado (4 people) than by another person (2 murders). There are more cops (19) than there have been fatal car crashes (17) in the last 35yrs.
There are 2 elementary schools, one middle, and one high school, each one hosting between 400-600 students. There are less than 1% of households with children who are not the biological children of the household heads. It is a 90% White community, with less than 2.5% Hispanic residents
After lunch, its time to head upstairs for Spanish class. He is at an advantage, in that he grew up speaking Spanish, but it only proves to make him more of a pariah. He tries to keep his head down in class, but the teacher doesn't allow him to not partake. She calls on him several times, and though he hesitates with his answers, they are correct, earning him a piercing glare from his main bully. When their last tests are handed back to them, there are groans and moans from the masses, and the teacher suggests the other students should seek his help studying. This serves only to alienate him further.
When the bell rings, he is slow to rise, hoping to miss the crowds on his way to his last class.
The halls are sparsely populated when he makes his way to the stairs.
As he steps through the fire doors, at the top of the stairs, a blur comes out from a corner, and pushes him to the floor. His books slide across the floor, scattering his papers everywhere. When he tries to grab his book, it is kicked off the landing, taking what seemed like ages to hit the floor below them.
He scrambles to the railing, trying to get to his feet, when he is struck in the back, knocking the wind out of him, and causing him to hang on to the rail for support.
He is called names, told he is weak and pathetic. He is spit on, and told he is worthless. Wiping the spit from his arm, he tries to get to his feet, but is grabbed, and shoved against the rail again. So close to the edge, he loses his balance and feels himself falling down the stairs. He reaches out to catch himself, and is rewarded with a disturbing snap, as his arm collapses beneath him. He cries out in pain, as he continues tumbling, eventually coming to a stop on the landing, hitting his head against the wall as he rolls to a stop.
His screams alerted several teachers, who come running from the second floor. As his attackers run away, one of them kicks him, with malice, or just trying to escape, its unclear.
When the teachers reach him, he is unable to get up, with sharp pains pulsing through his rib cage. This is the first time he notices the metallic taste in his mouth, as one of the teachers run to find a phone. He tries to bring his hand to his mouth, but finds his left arm angled oddly, with searing pain. He pulls it into his lap, cradling it. His teacher pulls out a napkin, and wipes away the bloody spit thats dribbling off his chin.
When the paramedics arrive, he is carefully placed on a stretcher and transported to the local clinic. He is diagnosed with a broken arm, several bruised ribs, and a gash in his lip, from where his teeth dug in when he hit the rail. He also has a concussion, and was kept overnight.
The school suspended him and the other students involved (that they were able to identify) in the fight. They recommended to his parents that he be removed from the school and transferred to a different school, stating if another incident happened, they would have to expel him.
He finished the school year at a school 30min away. Having to wake up an hour early to make it to school in time. He was closely supervised at all times.
Upon completion of the school year, his parents researched alternatives, and were afforded the opportunity for him to study abroad. On scholarship, he made it into a school in Europe, one which promised a safe environment for him to learn, and offered the stimulation he craved.
His next school year started off slight, but he made several friends, and found his in helping tutor several of the rugby players.
01 April 2013
The First Date
So, Mr Boy is currently on a date, with one of Miss Girl's friends.
Starting from the beginning:
We went to church yesterday, and enjoyed the company of some long time friends, who have a daughter a few months older than the twins. Cee gets along really well with both twins, and is just a really sweet kid.
After the service, we were enjoying some refreshments and sweets, and Mr Boy approached her and asked her to go on a date with him. She said "sure" and they hugged. He then told her he would take her to lunch tomorrow (now today)
All the parents are sitting around amused, at this point, trying to to laugh.
Mr Boy comes up to me and says "Daddy, I need the caw tomowow"
"Oh really? For what?"
"I has a date, youw dwiving us to lunch"
"You have a date? With who?"
"With Cee, duh! And I need you to pay."
"Oh?"
"Daddddddy.... I don't have enough dollows fow it. You do!"
So, it was set. We cleared it with her parents, who were amused, and fine with the idea.
Then came the planning. Mr Boy refused to take her any place "cheap or cheesy", so no kiddie restaurants or fast food. We agreed to Olive Garden. Then he said he needed his shirt ironed, and proceeded to lay out his outfit, and tell Wife how she was going to do his hair.
He even wanted me to wash the car.... Fortunately, it was getting dark, and was raining.
Today, he woke up quickly, ate breakfast, cleaned up the Easter mess, and watched MLP:FIM, all the while asking if it was time to leave yet.
He took a bath, got himself dressed, had his mom do his hair, borrowed a dab of my cologne, and then ran off to the backyard to gather some flowers for Cee.
When we got to her house, he told me to wait at the car (chauffeur has to open the door for them, of course) and he went to the door by himself. He looked a little nervous, but he rang the bell and stood patiently.
Her mother answered the door, and invited him into the foyer, telling me they needed a minute.
A minute or two later, he escorts Cee out of the house, and I open the door to let them into the vehicle. He helps her with his sister's booster seat, before securing himself.
Once we are at Olive Garden, the hostess greeted us, and asked about our party number. Boy chimed in, informing her they were one a date, and needed two seats, and I wasnt sitting with them. She seated me two tables away, so I could keep an eye on them. Fortunately it wasnt super busy.
I helped them order pasta and made sure they had their breadsticks, and then I was exiled.
They are talking, and coloring, and eating.
And I sit here with my ipad, alone, eating my alfredo pasta thing, alone........wondering when they will run out of things to do while sitting at a table....
Starting from the beginning:
We went to church yesterday, and enjoyed the company of some long time friends, who have a daughter a few months older than the twins. Cee gets along really well with both twins, and is just a really sweet kid.
After the service, we were enjoying some refreshments and sweets, and Mr Boy approached her and asked her to go on a date with him. She said "sure" and they hugged. He then told her he would take her to lunch tomorrow (now today)
All the parents are sitting around amused, at this point, trying to to laugh.
Mr Boy comes up to me and says "Daddy, I need the caw tomowow"
"Oh really? For what?"
"I has a date, youw dwiving us to lunch"
"You have a date? With who?"
"With Cee, duh! And I need you to pay."
"Oh?"
"Daddddddy.... I don't have enough dollows fow it. You do!"
So, it was set. We cleared it with her parents, who were amused, and fine with the idea.
Then came the planning. Mr Boy refused to take her any place "cheap or cheesy", so no kiddie restaurants or fast food. We agreed to Olive Garden. Then he said he needed his shirt ironed, and proceeded to lay out his outfit, and tell Wife how she was going to do his hair.
He even wanted me to wash the car.... Fortunately, it was getting dark, and was raining.
Today, he woke up quickly, ate breakfast, cleaned up the Easter mess, and watched MLP:FIM, all the while asking if it was time to leave yet.
He took a bath, got himself dressed, had his mom do his hair, borrowed a dab of my cologne, and then ran off to the backyard to gather some flowers for Cee.
When we got to her house, he told me to wait at the car (chauffeur has to open the door for them, of course) and he went to the door by himself. He looked a little nervous, but he rang the bell and stood patiently.
Her mother answered the door, and invited him into the foyer, telling me they needed a minute.
A minute or two later, he escorts Cee out of the house, and I open the door to let them into the vehicle. He helps her with his sister's booster seat, before securing himself.
Once we are at Olive Garden, the hostess greeted us, and asked about our party number. Boy chimed in, informing her they were one a date, and needed two seats, and I wasnt sitting with them. She seated me two tables away, so I could keep an eye on them. Fortunately it wasnt super busy.
I helped them order pasta and made sure they had their breadsticks, and then I was exiled.
They are talking, and coloring, and eating.
And I sit here with my ipad, alone, eating my alfredo pasta thing, alone........wondering when they will run out of things to do while sitting at a table....
18 March 2013
Names Pop Culture has Ruined
Jessie
Do you really want your kid finding out his friend wants to steal his girlfriend, like that?
Stacy
I don't care whether you're a MILF or not.... Your daughter will!
Prince
Really? Need I explain?
Blanket
Again.....need I?
Khloe/Kourtney
No.
Dexter
Your kid is either a Serial Killer or a creepy little scientist.
Elvis
NO!
Ryker
Thats a prison.....setting your kid up, much?
Channing:
No
Nevaeh:
No
Armani:
Unless you can afford to dress them in it all their life....and even then: No.
Marley:
Its a DOG! and it dies!
Mickey
Barbie
Take off your cloths???? No....
Leroy
Angel:
Delilah:
Creepy Stalker song!
Madonna:
Do I really need to give a reason?
Cecilia
Shes a heartbreaking Harlot!
Eleanor:
Shes creepy! And was a total loner!
Sunny:
creepy vengeful!
Earl:
Good-for-nothing wife beater
And your child's name should not end with "qua" Its a trend based in poor taste.
Do you really want your kid finding out his friend wants to steal his girlfriend, like that?
Stacy
I don't care whether you're a MILF or not.... Your daughter will!
Prince
Really? Need I explain?
Blanket
Again.....need I?
Khloe/Kourtney
No.
Dexter
Your kid is either a Serial Killer or a creepy little scientist.
Elvis
NO!
Ryker
Thats a prison.....setting your kid up, much?
Channing:
No
Nevaeh:
No
Armani:
Unless you can afford to dress them in it all their life....and even then: No.
Marley:
Its a DOG! and it dies!
Mickey
Barbie
Leroy
Angel:
Delilah:
Madonna:
Do I really need to give a reason?
Eleanor:
Sunny:
creepy vengeful!
Earl:
Good-for-nothing wife beater
And your child's name should not end with "qua" Its a trend based in poor taste.
03 March 2013
The reality of AI
So, I get a lot of comments about how great my family is, and how awesome my wife is, and I couldn't agree more.
I have gotten a few PMs about this, about how I portray my family, and how we seem to have the "perfect" life going.
Im not one to point out flaws. I may do a quick rant on some BS that day, but Im not one to air my personal dirty laundry.
Firstly, Im a guy, and talking in a bad light about your girlfriend/wife, heck, even your mother, is not something any guy should do in a public forum.
Im also mindful of the fact that my wife and friends read this page, and therefore I do not feel it is always appropriate to share some of the things happening in our lives.
Im all for embarrassing your kids, but I am mindful that they are growing up, and don't need every detail of their lives and faux pas broadcast on the internet.
Im sure no kid wants the fact that they peed their pants at the grocery store to be broadcast, just like no parent needs the judgement of "how the hell'd you let that happen?"
Teenager wouldn't want her issues with dating and school, broadcast either.
And i find it very inappropriate to seek approval online, for an argument with your spouse. Yes, I share the funny stuff, and the petty stuff, because thats okay to do.
I share about our schedule, and the activities we are involved in.
A shining example of a situation I have mentioned, but not gone in depth about, would be my sister's wedding.
Some of you got the impression I didn't like my soon-to-be-BIL, or that I didn't approve of the marriage. That is not the case, at all.
My sister is almost a decade younger than me. She really is my "baby" sister.
Its hard to believe shes old enough to date, let alone get engaged or married!
Its one thing that we were both in Iraq together in 2009. Its another thing to think that she'll soon be married, and sometime in the next few years I could become an uncle again! :O
She is my blood relative. The closest blood relative I have, relationship-wise. And her relationship with me and my family has caused a gap in her relationship with our birth mother and her siblings.
Shes dealt with some BS from all that, that was not deserved. She is an amazing person, and she only deserves the best.
Having met her fiancé, I feel better, but its still scary to think of her starting this new chapter.
Its the worries of a Big Brother, thats all.
Its the same type of worries Ill have when Teenager brings home her first serious boyfriend. And when Boy, Girl, and Lil E start going out in the world, and doing things on their own.
So, we are not perfect. We have arguments often, and we don't always agree on things.
Yes, my career is a top reason for our disagreements, but we knew it'd be a while before I got out again. And we are compromising. We are moving back home, so that we will have our house and our family with us, and even though Im not looking forward to the new job (its a good job, will just most likely be a lot of desk work...) we will all be together, in our own home, and the kids can go to a great school, while she gets back to the work she loves, etc.
And because of the assignment Im taking, chances of me deploying again are slim. Personally, it sucks, as I enjoy deploying, but I *will* get to be there for my kids, and that is more important. You can deploy a hundred times, but your kids only have one childhood each.
It doesn't make me a saint, it makes me a realist.
I have mental health issues that aren't all resolved with therapy and meds.
But I have a patient wife, patient mom, and some great kids, who don't hold it against me.
I have gotten a few PMs about this, about how I portray my family, and how we seem to have the "perfect" life going.
Im not one to point out flaws. I may do a quick rant on some BS that day, but Im not one to air my personal dirty laundry.
Firstly, Im a guy, and talking in a bad light about your girlfriend/wife, heck, even your mother, is not something any guy should do in a public forum.
Im also mindful of the fact that my wife and friends read this page, and therefore I do not feel it is always appropriate to share some of the things happening in our lives.
Im all for embarrassing your kids, but I am mindful that they are growing up, and don't need every detail of their lives and faux pas broadcast on the internet.
Im sure no kid wants the fact that they peed their pants at the grocery store to be broadcast, just like no parent needs the judgement of "how the hell'd you let that happen?"
Teenager wouldn't want her issues with dating and school, broadcast either.
And i find it very inappropriate to seek approval online, for an argument with your spouse. Yes, I share the funny stuff, and the petty stuff, because thats okay to do.
I share about our schedule, and the activities we are involved in.
A shining example of a situation I have mentioned, but not gone in depth about, would be my sister's wedding.
Some of you got the impression I didn't like my soon-to-be-BIL, or that I didn't approve of the marriage. That is not the case, at all.
My sister is almost a decade younger than me. She really is my "baby" sister.
Its hard to believe shes old enough to date, let alone get engaged or married!
Its one thing that we were both in Iraq together in 2009. Its another thing to think that she'll soon be married, and sometime in the next few years I could become an uncle again! :O
She is my blood relative. The closest blood relative I have, relationship-wise. And her relationship with me and my family has caused a gap in her relationship with our birth mother and her siblings.
Shes dealt with some BS from all that, that was not deserved. She is an amazing person, and she only deserves the best.
Having met her fiancé, I feel better, but its still scary to think of her starting this new chapter.
Its the worries of a Big Brother, thats all.
Its the same type of worries Ill have when Teenager brings home her first serious boyfriend. And when Boy, Girl, and Lil E start going out in the world, and doing things on their own.
So, we are not perfect. We have arguments often, and we don't always agree on things.
Yes, my career is a top reason for our disagreements, but we knew it'd be a while before I got out again. And we are compromising. We are moving back home, so that we will have our house and our family with us, and even though Im not looking forward to the new job (its a good job, will just most likely be a lot of desk work...) we will all be together, in our own home, and the kids can go to a great school, while she gets back to the work she loves, etc.
And because of the assignment Im taking, chances of me deploying again are slim. Personally, it sucks, as I enjoy deploying, but I *will* get to be there for my kids, and that is more important. You can deploy a hundred times, but your kids only have one childhood each.
It doesn't make me a saint, it makes me a realist.
I have mental health issues that aren't all resolved with therapy and meds.
But I have a patient wife, patient mom, and some great kids, who don't hold it against me.
25 February 2013
Mental Health Awareness
There is a lot of health issues in my family, physical and mental.
We are definitely not the poster family for perfect health, but we do our best to maintain some semblance of sanity.
My biological dad had schizophrenia. He worked so hard to keep level-headed, even with moving a lot, and changing jobs a lot, the two things he tried to make certain of were:
That he took his medication regularly, and that there was food on the table.
When my biologic mother left, he stuggled, and had to give my little brother up for adoption in order to be able to afford to continue taking his meds, and keep food in my stomach.
He was also an alcoholic. Functionally so, but still. Its kind of a family thing. He was never violent, or anything, but its something I remember.
My adoptive sister, my older sister, is Bipolar. Also having a history of PTSD, related to childhood abuse, you'd never believe it all, seeing her when her meds are working.
Recently, her meds have failed her, and she has been in a pretty manic episode.
My nephew is staying with us for a while, so that my BIL can focus on helping my sister. My niece is in school, still, so she stayed behind, but she is thoroughly occupied, between school, dance, karate, soccer, and piano.
Got a call from my mom saying my sister has been admitted on a 72hr hold, after an incident requiring a visit to the ED. And they are hoping she will agree to an inpatient treatment program, until her meds can be figured out. My Mom is struggling, not being able to be there for her, because she doesn't have anyone to hold down the fort (my parents are in the midst of a divorce, and my father has kinda gone off the deep end of "midlife" crises).
Fortunately, my BIL has a great support network, and he has someone who is able to help with my niece, for now. He is spending his time either at work or at the hospital.
I have expressed to several people, here and in real life, my disapproval of how people treat mental illness these days. And how those with mental illnesses playup their own victimization.
I don't accept anyone putting others in danger, or harming others because they refuse to seek help.
And I have cut people out of my life who are unwilling to own up and take action to help themselves. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink. And there is no point dying of dehydration in the process.
My Mom is in therapy now, for the first time in her 50+ years. She is seeking to focus on herself with as much energy as she has spent on others. She is sorting through the issues entailed in a 30yr marriage ending, in the years she has put herself second, and the 14+ surgeries she has had in the last 25 years, along with the chronic pain she has had that entire time, and coming to terms with what her abilities are. She has been Superwoman too long, and its taken its toll. Her last surgery, a week after I deployed in 2009, took 18mo to fully" heal:
Now, I need to put it out there that I am not one of those "Never walked a mile in your shoes" advocates.
I had a LOT of attachment issues growing up, and they still effect my ability to trust people.
After my daughter passed away, and needed to get away from everything, and by no means had the ability to do so. After selling a bunch of things, just to cover the debt from the funeral services, I went and joined the Army (this was right after 9/11), with no questions asked.
I know that it wasn't the healthiest thing to do, but it was what I thought was best at the time.
A week after I finished my training, I had deployment orders in hand, and within a month of that, I had already seen enough battlefield trauma to last a lifetime.
The 18mo I spent in Iraq matured me, and opened my eyes. They let me put aside my problems and focus on something else. They also multiplied my issues. Upon returning, not only did I have to deal with my daughter's passing, I had to deal with the deaths of 6 of my soldiers, and the deaths and injuries of many who passed beneath my hands. I came back, and was left to my thoughts. Alone. Nothing to avoid them with.
Those 18mo did make me better able to handle what had happened, but it didn't help that I'd put off everything that had happened. I was dealing with 2yrs of heartbreak, tragedy, success, and failure, all at once. And it was overwhelming. I was a 22yo kid, who's life plan was supposed to be law school, not returning from a deployment, and having already lost my own child.
I broke, or more so, I finished breaking.... I'd been cracked for a while.
I took to drinking, first to steady my nerves, then to fill a hole. That "helped" me cope for only so long, before it felt like what was left of my life was crashing down upon me. I finally hit rock bottom, and I reached out. My sister drove 12hrs straight, leaving her newborn at home, to come help me. Detox was not a wonderful experience. Living on caffeine (coffee, energy drinks, etc), liquor, and nicotine, and then going cold turkey is NOT recommended. My sister was there for that first weekend, until my mom flew out to be with me. There is nothing like having to face your mom in a situation like that, and the praise you give the Lord above, when you don't see judgement or disappointment in her eyes.
She kept me alive, on a diet of sandwiches and water (no sugars, caffeine, alcohol, nicotine, or anything addictive), through to purging and the withdrawal. She woke me up from the nightmares, and helped me keep touch with reality. She got me the help I needed, found me a support group, and we found meds to help my anxiety, and to help me sleep (sometimes). She got me connected to those around me, something that can be hard to do, coming back from a deployment. And she got me back to a routine, and some of my hobbies.
I hated the process, and what those things had done to me, and how badly it scared my family. I knew I never wanted to do that to them again. And I never wanted to do that to myself again.
I see a Psych doctor every month, see a social worker every 3 weeks, and am currently learning about an osteopathic-type meditation-type treatment for anxiety/PTSD, and I go to group sessions. Next week I am attending a pilot program (I am one of the test subjects for the new program) which aims to help soldiers vent, and discuss issues related to deployment and the processes, and ways to cope with redeploying, and to give feedback on things that need to change.
Refusal is not an option in my book, especially when you have people, kids, depending on you to be alright.
I've recently had to deal with a friend who is aware of their diagnoses, but has let their illness take control, and has put their entire family at risk, going so far as to almost causing physical harm to one child, and DEFINITELY causing emotional damage to all their kids.
It is selfish, and abusive, to put innocent kids through what they've gone through, instead of taking a step back, and getting the help they need.
I've gone through these scenarios before, and they always seem to end badly, when there is no proper intervention.
I've had to deal with more suicides than I'd care to admit, and (as a CASA and foster parent, and even having been a foster kid) I have seen the horrible long-term effects these situations have on kids.
Its like watching a ticking time bomb, and I refuse to do that. And I will be blunt as hell about it.
Mental Illness does not make someone weak, worthless, or an invalid.
You can live a full, happy life with mental illnesses, if you take care of yourself.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)