Sitting in a waiting room…again.

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I’m sitting in a waiting room again…

Another 2 1/2 hours of my life, spent.

We do this every week,

for psychiatric therapy.

There, I said it. Ohhhh….psychiatric…..gasp!

It’s not because our marriage is on the rocks or because the school advised it for the children based on behavioral concerns (although those are two very good reasons to consider going). We go because we are normal people (whatever the hell, “normal” means), with normal emotions, who encounter normal challenges and struggles and we want some help sometimes to know how to navigate those challenges in the healthiest way possible.

We are blessed to have a wonderful marriage, a loving home and two wonderful, socially mature and thriving children. And we have chosen to share our happy home with foster children. While fostering certainly adds another, emotional and sometimes challenging, dimension to our lives. Fostering is not the only reason we utilize therapy. In fact, we started going to therapy years before we ever considered fostering.

We started going when one of our children found school overwhelming, and we’ve continued as we encounter new challenges. We go because our brains and our hormones, our emotional balance and psychological wellbeing are important to us. We don’t just want to ‘do’ well, we want to feel well. We want to communicate well. And we don’t want our successes to be inhibited by the emotions that so often guide our thoughts and actions.

Just as I go school supply shopping for my children to ensure that they have the tools they need to participate in school…

Just as I take them to the doctor to get immunizations and the occasional antibiotic for strep throat so that they can be well in life…

Just as I call a girlfriend, pour a glass of wine or run a hot bath to unwind…

We go to therapists when we are having a hard time so that we can achieve, settle our minds and be well in life.

We go to therapists so that the patterns in our family lines, don’t repeat themselves.

We go to therapists because we want to utilize every tool available to us.

And there is no shame, misfortune or inferiority to be had in that.

The only shame is ignoring a problem that you know exists. The only misfortune is a person in need of assistance, being denied it. And the only thing that I find inferior, are people who think that they are superior to the services being offered or to those who utilize them.

 

I’ll be the first to admit that my fervent passion for mental health lies in part, out of fear. I was eight when I lost my uncle and fourteen when I lost my brother. I entered adulthood and motherhood afraid to lose anyone else, especially those closest to me, from an untreated, narrowly acknowledged condition. Both my uncle and my brother were never diagnosed nor ever attempted medication therapy…and they died from their self inflicted decision to escape their mental conditions because they saw no other way out. And thousands of others are suffering from the same problem, every day.

And yet the snarky comments, the diverted glances and the air of superiority continue.

We’re all supposed to be “strong”. We’re all supposed to “manage”. We’re all supposed to be able to “figure it out” and “make it all happen”. And yet, no one is giving us the tools to be able to do that. Nor are they taking into account our mental and emotional state and/or capacity.

If your kid has trouble seeing, you get them glasses. If your mom can no longer hear well, you get her a hearing aid. If your back hurts, you take a muscle relaxant, go to physical therapy, do some stretches. But when you’re overcome by fear, anxiety, sadness, loneliness, or feeling overwhelmed or stressed…you’re told to “get over it.” When someone begins withdrawing from social situations, having bursts of anger or crying spells, or is suddenly under-performing at work or school…they are shamed….or…better yet, ignored. And the more subtle signs of mental struggle are almost always missed.

No one expects a diabetic to survive without insulin and diet modifications. No one expects a morbidly obese person to run a mile. No one expects a physically disabled body to function at the same capacity as an able-bodied one. And yet all over the planet, while people acknowledge that our bodies are different, they’re pretending that our brains are all the same. And when someone can’t perform at the same caliber because of their current emotional or mental capabilities, they are shunned.

And so we go along setting unrealistic expectations, over-extending and over-committing ourselves, hiding our problems and making excuses…and it’s killing us.

Yet the excuses keep coming…

“He/she is just doing this for attention.” or “They’re just lazy.”

Attention seekers and people with a low drive exist. But most of the time, there’s more to their behavior than just these single signs. Have you taken the time/effort to explore possible underlying causes? Have you involved a professional to ensure that there’s not more going on? Or did you, with your finite knowledge come to that conclusion on your own?

Imagine the torment of not being able to see and your family telling you that you’re faking your blindness for attention. Imagine losing your ability to hear, and your boss telling you to “just listen more closely and you’ll get it”. Feeling overcome with fear/sadness, being so distracted that you can’t perform…or so manic that you can’t sit still, is like being blind/deaf to the world around you. It’s like sitting in the eye of a tornado and trying to pretend the world isn’t spinning and trying to suck you into it. Talk to them. Believe them when they tell you their struggles.

“I called but I couldn’t get an appointment.”

Mental health facilities are hard to get into. Many of them have 6 month-1 year waiting lists for new patients. Hospitals rarely have an open psych bed. The supply and demand for psychiatric services are incredibly out of balance.

All the more reason not to wait until you are in crisis! Routine mental health support not only provides the resources and support to help prevent a mental health crisis, but it gives you a provider to call when you need them the most.

“I don’t have the money or time for that.” Those co-pays add up and going to routine appointments is cumbersome and time-consuming…

So does carry out pizza and all of your kids’ extracurricular activities. Unlike pizza, investing in your children’s emotional wellbeing will support their overall health. And being a violin playing, chess master, soccer star doesn’t matter if their anxiety, sadness, anger or social immaturity prevents them from enjoying life and reaching their potential. And as parents, the damage we can do by not managing our own mental health effectively, is far more detrimental than any benefit of running ourselves ragged and avoiding self-care to serve our families non-essential desires. Trust me! That shit will come back to bite you!

That being said, there are very real financial hurdles some people face when it comes to affording adequate mental health services. However, there are a lot of resources out there…especially when you live close to a big city. A google search or even a call to a doctor’s office can help you find those resources.

“I tried that before and it didn’t help…”

Medications and therapists are not one-size-fits-all. You don’t go into a shoe store, try on one pair, and then give up on wearing shoes if that particular pair didn’t fit. You have to find a therapist, and when needed, a medication, that works for you. And sometimes, that takes trial and error. But finding the right fit…can be a game-changer.

“We’re not there yet.”

By “we”, do you mean “you”? Because if you are not the one suffering from the mental health symptoms, you shouldn’t be the only one deciding when it’s “bad enough” for someone else to receive outside help, even when that person is your child. Imagine drowning and watching a lifeguard on the shore shout to the onlookers-“He’s okay…he’s got this…he doesn’t need this floatation device yet”. What is the threshold for pursuing a treatment as benign as talking to someone? Why wait for them to go under before you call for help? What benefit do you suppose will be achieved by allowing someone to continue struggling with their head just barely above the water? And just suppose, you do…gasp go to a therapist pre-maturely…what is the detriment, as opposed to going too late? I beg of you, do not let your own pride, prevent you from seeking help for yourself or the ones you love. The risks simply do not out-weigh the benefits.

 

Many people avoid psychiatric services, for themselves or their loved ones, because they are afraid-either of the stigma or a diagnosis. Or because it involves work. The stigma ends with this, us, talking about it and normalizing it. Avoiding it only perpetuates the thing we all hate. While it is normal to grieve, to some degree, if/when a diagnosis is made- it’s important to remember that a diagnosis doesn’t create symptoms-the disease/disorder already existed, it merely has a name now. And having that name allows you to learn how to treat it and move forward. Lastly, becoming better at anything requires work. Digging shit up and working through it, recalling what is tormenting us and recognizing what our faults are and where we have err’d is hard! Growth is hard. Self-improvement is hard. But it’s worth it, to be our best selves.

 

I am sitting in a therapist’s waiting room again…2 1/2 hours…well spent…

Because I don’t have all the answers. Because while I am an expert in some things, I am not an expert in mental health. Because while my children talk to me and I, to my friends and husband, sometimes it helps to have someone else to talk to…an outsider, a professional. Because sometimes, life hands us a load that is too damn heavy to carry on our own.

Because just like pencils and erasers and two-pocket folders, I want my children to have all the tools they need to perform at their best. Because, just like the PT I get for my back, my heart and my mind too, need support and exercise. Because I want to normalize the healthy management of mental health so that one day, when I’m not around, my children, my loved ones, don’t ever hesitate to get the help they need; and so that, they in turn can continue to support others who find themselves in need of support. Because I want to be the best mom/foster mom, wife, nurse, writer, teacher, counselor that I can be. And because I’m not too proud to admit when I, we, need help.

 

 

 

 

 

A glimpse into the life of a suicide survivor

tear-drop pic black and white“It was his life if he wanted to end it.” “Why did he leave me?” “He just wasn’t built to withstand the pressures of this world.” “How could he do this to me?” “He didn’t owe anybody anything.” “But didn’t he know just how bad he was going to hurt everyone.” “It was inevitable.” “This didn’t have to happen.”

The thoughts and the grieving process that a suicide survivor goes through is a long and complicated one. And one that never truly reaches a resolution. Like all grief, there is a complex cycle filled with an array of emotions from shock to anger to sadness to contemplative acceptance. But in the case of suicide, the grief cycle is much more complicated because the victim and the cause of death are the same entity. There’s no “Stop drunk drivers” “Cancer sucks” “Addiction is a disease” bandwagon to jump on. There’s no perpetrator to hate or blame or prosecute. There’s no “accident” to chalk up to fate or universal plan. And that is not to minimize the loss of persons via other means but instead to point out the fundamental difference of suicide from any other cause of death. In suicide, the same person you love and miss immensely is the same person who pulled the trigger, tied the noose, swallowed the pills. They did it electively. And it is fucking devastating. There will always be questions. Closure is very hard to find. And as a survivor, once you deal with “you”, then you gotta take on society and their lack of finesse and stigmas surrounding your loved ones passing. See my post on Death etiquette if you don’t want to be that person.

When my brother first died by suicide, after the shock of course, it was the “Why did he leave me?” thoughts that consumed me the most, followed by overwhelming sympathy for the horror that he lived inside his mind.

And then, as I reached my contemplative resolution, I decided that he owed no one. He was single, without children and his life was his own to end, if that’s what he wanted. And I accepted that the battle he fought daily in his mind was not for me to judge and was clearly a miserable one. And I reached an inner peace when I could say to him, “It’s okay. I know you had to go. I know it was too much. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

And then I became a mother. I watched my children grow and develop their own struggles. And like the flip of a switch, my thought-process changed and suddenly, it was all less “okay.” I wondered if my brother ever felt a sense of regret. Does he see how far the rest of us have come? Could he see his nieces and nephews and know what he missed? When he pulled the trigger did he wish he could take it back? The few people that have lived despite their suicide attempt, sometimes speak of feeling instant and overwhelming regret upon facing their death. If he hadn’t been drinking, would the outcome have been the same? Regret, to me, is life’s biggest nightmare. I don’t ever want to live with regret. The idea of my brother carrying the same was painful.

I also no longer viewed my children’s lives completely as their own. I grew them. I birthed them. I nurtured them. And me and my village have invested in them out of endless love. As the suicide survivor that I am, I have told my children, “You don’t ever get to check out. For the love that I brought you into this world with, for the love that your friends and family have carried you through different phases of your life with, for the reason you were put on this planet, you are obligated to continue living, always! I will stop at nothing to get you the help that you need and I will be by your side every step of the way. But you must always choose to live.” But is that fear or logic talking?

Choosing to live isn’t that simple, I know. Mental illness is a dark and complex illness and the stigma that is attached to it, is a heavy one. Even with my history and background in education and nursing, I feel it. I hear the comments, I sense the discomfort, I notice the change in tone of voice when people discuss mental health issues. And it is that stigma, that discomfort, that I believe, is killing people in droves. People with mental illness consistently feel alone and yet I can tell you, on any given night there’s rarely an open bed on the psych unit. As a person who has had to help someone through a crisis, I know I spent hours on the phone to avoid the emergency room. And most psychiatrists in my very populated area have wait lists that are months long. Further more, often the most recommended and more specialized psychiatric practitioners don’t accept insurance. But there are options, there are always options!

According to the CDC deaths by suicide are up 25% since 1999. The numbers were making a steady decline after the Great Depression but started to increase in 1986 and in the last 10 years it has skyrocketed. The statistics start at age 10. Girls aged 10-14 and males aged 45-64 show the sharpest increase. Firearms is most common cause of death. Suicide is now the 10th leading cause of death in the U.S. The US! The land of opportunity! The land of the free! The land of milk and honey! Why when we have so much are we choosing to end it all? Whether the decision was impulsive or well thought-out and planned for years, persons who choose to die by suicide almost always feel hopeless. Why are we so hopeless?

Maybe it’s social pressures. Maybe it’s a failing mental health system. Maybe it’s unrealistic cultural expectations. Maybe it’s guns. Maybe it’s social media. I don’t know.

What I do know is that it has to stop. And the “pull yourself up by your boot straps” mentality doesn’t work! We need real solutions. We need real change.

While I understand the risks associated with medications and I don’t believe any pill is an easy fix … correcting chemical imbalances saves people’s lives. And when there isn’t a chronic and biological cause for depression or a mood disorder, sometimes medicine, combined with therapy, helps to bid the time to allow someone to get over a traumatic life event. When people publicly shun medication, they contribute to the stigma.

And if you’re not ready for medication, what is the problem with therapy? Why do people avoid seeing a therapist? I mean, if I had a nickel for every time someone said “Oh we don’t need that!”… “I mean, we’re not there yet.”… or “Oh no, it’s not That bad!”,  I’d be a millionare! What are you waiting for!? A crisis?! Are you too good to talk to somebody? An expert in the field? And what does that make me? A headcase? An over-reactor? No, it makes me a sister, a daughter, a mother, who refuses to allow history to repeat itself, who refuses to wait until it’s too late.

My brother’s suicide, my uncle’s suicide and the many suicides I have now been personally made aware of since my brother’s passing have forever changed me. I will never be okay with it. I will never get over it. I will forever know the feeling of loss and regret. And I will forever have questions. But I will never ignore a warning sign. Never will I pass up an opportunity for assistance. Never will I rationalize that “We’re not there yet” or assume that we are better than anybody or immune to tragedy. Never will a person’s mental heath issues be a source of gossip or judgment in my presence. Never will I pass up an opportunity for someone who needs to talk. Further more, I will work to never minimize someone else’s struggle and always try to be kind.

Because where someone else sees a “weird kid,” I see my big brother. The teenager  “looking for attention” could easily be my own. Who the world writes off as “crazy,” I know, was once a precious little baby that someone loved. And the old man who has “lived a good life” is my father whom I still so desperately need. My family was The family. None of these statistics are just numbers. They are lives, lives who are loved, whether they accept that or not.

I hope you join me in my work.

And to this note, if you want to help, if you want to make a difference, here are a few small changes that we can make to help to change the societal influences of suicide. In addition, consider donating or participating in Out of the Darkness, a walk and movement to help end suicide.

  • Stop saying “committed suicide”, instead use “death/died by suicide”. It helps to remove victim blame. Save “committed” for crimes against society.
  • Don’t use the terms “successful” or “unsuccessful” when referencing a suicide attempt. Suicide is never a success.
  • Don’t share media posts that announce in the headline that the cause of death was suicide. This perpetuates normalcy as well as creates a hype that statistically leads to imitative behaviors. Teens especially, may look for attention in suicide attempts. Attention called to the act or to the details of suicide can encourage risky behaviors that could lead to suicide.
  • Focus on the victims or in the case of suicide, the suicide survivors (the loved ones affected by the suicide). The same way school shootings can be sensationalized by the media (and by us) and then copycatted, suicide too, can lead to imitative behaviors. This is decreased when the focus is put on the pain of the surviving family members/friends instead of the cause of death.  
  • In moments of exasperation never say “Well just do it then” instead make a phone call and get help.
  • Don’t refer to it as “an easy way out”-that can be attractive to those persons who are contemplating suicide.
  • Take every comment about wanting to die, no matter how trivial or off-handed or passive aggressive it seems, seriously!

Lastly, don’t take life for granted and don’t ever think suicide won’t affect you. Regret is life’s biggest nightmare, save yourself and those you love by remaining vigilant. And always choose love. I pray you never know the pain of a loved one electing to end their life and I pray that you yourself never feel so hopeless that you consider such an end. But if you do, I am always, always here and I will always maintain your confidence and promise to lend an ear without judgement. You are not alone.