My brother has been incarcerated since September 12, 2010, following a domestic dispute. I received a call yesterday from my brother’s attorney asking me to prepay on my phone so that my brother could call me. He stated that my brother was not fairing well and could benefit from having someone with whom to speak. I told the attorney I would and waited for my brother to call. When he finally called, he informed me that he was now in the prison psychiatric unit because he attempted to commit suicide.
Throughout the first phone call, I listened as he cried and apologized for, “lying to me.” He had told me once before (during his incarceration) that he was thinking of taking his life and later promised not to do it. My brother proceeded to tell me what he had done and why. I tried reassuring him that while things may look/feel impossible now, he could overcome this, if he would allow the proper people to help him, that he was loved, and that he is not alone.
My heart broke as I thought of my brother, over 3,000 miles away, feeling as if the only way to end his pain is to end his life, and how I could do no more than accept his calls and try to reassure him. I wondered how someone could feel that death was the only answer and I cried.
The second call was a bit different. My brother is convinced that he will continue to try until he gets it right. In his mind, he has never been anything more than a fuck up, and now, the one thing he thought he was doing right, is gone. We went back and forth with his reasons for why he should and my reasons for why he should not. It was not a very productive conversation and in the end, my only consolation came from the fact that he is in the psychiatric unit making another attempt nearly impossible.
I spent most of the night alone with my thoughts. My emotions went back and forth from sadness, to helplessness, to anger, etc. I finally decided to search ways to help someone who is suicidal which brings us to this blog. Aside from providing ways to help someone who is contemplating suicide, the sites encourage those who are trying to help to also get help and discuss their feelings. It is both amazing and overwhelming how many sites there are for both people who feel suicide is the only answer, for those looking to help someone who is suicidal, and for those who are survivors of suicide.
I received a humbling education today. I realized that I needed to get a grip in order to be able to help my brother. Just because I find his reasons for suicide inadequate, does not make them any less real or painful for him. He is suffering from a very real and very frightening illness. An illness that I have been told my daughter also suffers.
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On a more personal level
I know that I am flawed in more ways than even I care to admit. I make mistakes. I do not always say the right thing. Sometimes, I simply say nothing at all. I retreat into my own little world for fear of letting people in and getting hurt. I prefer to walk away and allow others to think what they will rather than deal with conflict. I am not always a good friend, sister, daughter, mate, and mother. I am sure there have been times (intentional or not) that I have hurt others. I have been hurt in ways I would never wish on my worst enemy, and yet, I would never consider suicide as a way of dealing with the pain I have and am yet to feel. I can empathize and be there for my brother and anyone else who has ever battled depression and thought of suicide; but, I will never fully understand the decision to kill oneself.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Friday, February 20, 2009
Motherhood isn't all it's cracked up to be ...
I love my daughter with all of my heart and soul. Without question, I would give my last breathe for her and yet on most days, my darling daughter, pushes me towards the brink of insanity.
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I was the person who always thought that ADD/ADHD was an excuse for people with out of control children. It was a crutch for those who did not know how and/or chose not to discipline their child. That is of course, before I became the parent of a child with ADHD.
As some of you may already know, back in 2005, my daughter, who we will call Princess P.I.T.A., was diagnosed with Sensory Integration Dysfunction with a hypersensitivity to touch and sound, as well as, ADHD of the combined type.
She showed, what I now know where symptoms, very early on. From the screaming fits after being at S’s for the day (it’s always very loud there), to the quirkiness of always having pockets full of rocks in preschool, and even the constant need to have her back “tickled,” in order to relax and fall asleep. I did not, however, fully come to grips with the fact that there was something, “wrong,” until early on in September of 2005. Princess P.I.T.A was having, what I thought at first to be, severe difficulties adapting to a new school. She was constantly getting in trouble. She could not concentrate or sit still, and yet, when she was interested in something and actually applied herself, the intellect was/is certainly there.
The last straw for me was the day that the school nurse called to inform me that, although she had checked my daughter and everything was fine, Princess P.I.T.A. had been sent to the nurses office complaining that her, “heart hurt.” It turns out; the poor kid was having an anxiety attack. Imagine having an anxiety attack at 5 years old, in the first grade! So off we went to the pediatrician, who referred us to a counselor, who in turn referred us to a pediatric neuropsychologist, where after a full day of neuropsychological evaluations, we received our diagnosis.
My daughter is impulsive, so much so, that she once crashed my car, after taking my keys, because she wanted to listen to music and accidentally put the car in gear. She is extremely inattentive, to the point where she can forget what you asked her to do just seconds before. She is hyperactive, more so than your typical 7 year old, to the point where I’ve taken away anything that contains sugar just to keep her from completely bouncing off the walls. Simple tasks like brush your teeth/hair, do your homework, and go to sleep are constant battles in my home, and no, I don’t mean the typical, battle that all parents face. Lord knows I wish that was all I had to complain about. We are talking, drag down, knock out, fights about the same things, over and over and over again.
With all that said, it does not change the fact that most nights, I go to bed exhausted and exasperated, secretly hoping and praying that my son will not suffer from the same ailments. It does not change the fact that most days I cringe when it is time to wake my daughter, especially if she has not gotten, the much needed, ten hours or more of sleep. It also does not change the fact that she is my child and for her I would take on the world.
To date, we have had an I.E.P. implemented at school. She receives Occupational Therapy three times a week. Behavior modification is implemented into her daily routines and although these things have helped, it is not enough. I’m hoping all of that will change on Monday, February 23, 2009, when we meet with a new neuropsychologist at Children’s Hospital in Boston. Until then, we will just keep on trucking, and of course, I will keep on dying my hair to hide the fact that I have greys at the tender age of 34 (lol).
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I was the person who always thought that ADD/ADHD was an excuse for people with out of control children. It was a crutch for those who did not know how and/or chose not to discipline their child. That is of course, before I became the parent of a child with ADHD.
As some of you may already know, back in 2005, my daughter, who we will call Princess P.I.T.A., was diagnosed with Sensory Integration Dysfunction with a hypersensitivity to touch and sound, as well as, ADHD of the combined type.
She showed, what I now know where symptoms, very early on. From the screaming fits after being at S’s for the day (it’s always very loud there), to the quirkiness of always having pockets full of rocks in preschool, and even the constant need to have her back “tickled,” in order to relax and fall asleep. I did not, however, fully come to grips with the fact that there was something, “wrong,” until early on in September of 2005. Princess P.I.T.A was having, what I thought at first to be, severe difficulties adapting to a new school. She was constantly getting in trouble. She could not concentrate or sit still, and yet, when she was interested in something and actually applied herself, the intellect was/is certainly there.
The last straw for me was the day that the school nurse called to inform me that, although she had checked my daughter and everything was fine, Princess P.I.T.A. had been sent to the nurses office complaining that her, “heart hurt.” It turns out; the poor kid was having an anxiety attack. Imagine having an anxiety attack at 5 years old, in the first grade! So off we went to the pediatrician, who referred us to a counselor, who in turn referred us to a pediatric neuropsychologist, where after a full day of neuropsychological evaluations, we received our diagnosis.
My daughter is impulsive, so much so, that she once crashed my car, after taking my keys, because she wanted to listen to music and accidentally put the car in gear. She is extremely inattentive, to the point where she can forget what you asked her to do just seconds before. She is hyperactive, more so than your typical 7 year old, to the point where I’ve taken away anything that contains sugar just to keep her from completely bouncing off the walls. Simple tasks like brush your teeth/hair, do your homework, and go to sleep are constant battles in my home, and no, I don’t mean the typical, battle that all parents face. Lord knows I wish that was all I had to complain about. We are talking, drag down, knock out, fights about the same things, over and over and over again.
With all that said, it does not change the fact that most nights, I go to bed exhausted and exasperated, secretly hoping and praying that my son will not suffer from the same ailments. It does not change the fact that most days I cringe when it is time to wake my daughter, especially if she has not gotten, the much needed, ten hours or more of sleep. It also does not change the fact that she is my child and for her I would take on the world.
To date, we have had an I.E.P. implemented at school. She receives Occupational Therapy three times a week. Behavior modification is implemented into her daily routines and although these things have helped, it is not enough. I’m hoping all of that will change on Monday, February 23, 2009, when we meet with a new neuropsychologist at Children’s Hospital in Boston. Until then, we will just keep on trucking, and of course, I will keep on dying my hair to hide the fact that I have greys at the tender age of 34 (lol).
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Random
June 1st 2008 … I could have/should have said, “Go fuck yourself!” After all that happened, absolutely no one would have faulted me for that response. I could have kept going about my business. God knows that my life would probably be very different right now. I would most likely be living closest to those I love the most. Working and taking care of my kids as a single mom, self respect intact. It was however, not the road I chose to go down. I couldn’t do it. It is not now, nor has it ever been, the type of person I am. There are those who do not understand my decision and that’s okay. Perhaps if I were the one standing on the outside looking in, I wouldn’t understand either.
It’s not all about him. The decision to be here was as cold and as calculated as the feelings, or lack-there-of, he ever had for me. I wanted/needed to ensure my sons future. Being here enables me to do just that. It’s not easy. Every day I struggle with where I am as a person, and where I want to be. The benefits for both of my children, however, far outweigh anything I’ve had to and continue to endure.
I have yet to deal with all that happened. On the outside, it may appear as though all was forgiven if not at least forgotten. On the inside, however, the wounds are as open and raw, as if it had happened only yesterday. Things have never been/will never be the same. I never imagined feeling so much anger and hatred (yes hatred) towards any one person; and yet, here I am, caring for that very same,undeserving human being. I know that eventually I must come to grips with all that happened. I will have to unearth all that I so carefully pushed down into the depths of my soul, but I am not ready to do so, not yet anyway.
It’s not all about him. The decision to be here was as cold and as calculated as the feelings, or lack-there-of, he ever had for me. I wanted/needed to ensure my sons future. Being here enables me to do just that. It’s not easy. Every day I struggle with where I am as a person, and where I want to be. The benefits for both of my children, however, far outweigh anything I’ve had to and continue to endure.
I have yet to deal with all that happened. On the outside, it may appear as though all was forgiven if not at least forgotten. On the inside, however, the wounds are as open and raw, as if it had happened only yesterday. Things have never been/will never be the same. I never imagined feeling so much anger and hatred (yes hatred) towards any one person; and yet, here I am, caring for that very same,undeserving human being. I know that eventually I must come to grips with all that happened. I will have to unearth all that I so carefully pushed down into the depths of my soul, but I am not ready to do so, not yet anyway.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Bloggers Block
I'm having some serious issues with blogging so I decided to blog about how I can't blog in hopes of someday being able to blog again! Make sense? Probably not; however, that's where I currently stand.
I never used to have problems blogging. I'd blog about pretty much anything and everything. Sometimes I'd blog movie quotes or song lyrics and other times I'd blog about things that were happening in my life. The last time I blogged was April 17, 2008. I've tried blogging several times since then; however, all attempts have been complete and utter failures.
I am hoping, despite the fact that this has taken me days to write , and that it lacks any type of substance, it will be the start of a new blogging adventure.
Until then ... I'll leave it at this ... ~*Z*~
~Sometimes we need to stop analyzing the past
~Stop planning the future
~Stop trying to figure out precisely how we feel
~Stop deciding with our mind what we want our heart to feel
~Sometimes we just have to go with.......
"Whatever happens - happens"
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