Where's Dad?

Those of you that have read my blog or heard Linea and I speak around the country about our experiences with her bipolar disorder may wonder how her Dad is doing with all of this. A lot of dads fix things. Linea's dad wanted desperately to fix anything that was wrong with his daughter. He was always the one that raced to the airport and flew across the country when she was her sickest. He was the one that brought her home from college when she crashed into a life-threatening depression. He was the one that flew back and packed up her life and brought it home again. He was the one that told me, over and over again and even when he might have been unsure himself, "It will be okay." Linea wrote in her journal after a particularly hard time that she remembered when her Dad had glued her broken Tinkerbelle figurine back together and she said, "I need him to repair me. I am broken." He tried so hard to fix everything and when life was finally a little more stable he wondered why we would want to talk about the not-so-stable times all over again. But he continues to support us and he is proud of the strength of his daughter. She is putting herself back together again. Meanwhile he is out in a Seattle down-pour trying to keep the gutters open and the flood from coming in the back door. Staying on guard, fixing our lives. Thanks, honey!

The innocence and wonder of a new-born simply takes one's breath away. We hold our new babies and wish and pray for a life-time of health and happiness for these wee and fragile beings. Keep the pain and hurt away! Yet, we can't. The first ear-splitting hysterical cries of hunger remind us of the impact of this tiny life on our own. Soon there are cries of irritation, two-year old tantrums, pouts, and eventually maddening teen-age silence and unpredictable moods. Mixed in are larger than equal parts of joy and crazy-funny-silliness and almost more love than a parent's heart can hold. While life is never easy there are some children that just have more than their share of struggles and their families along with them. I have been privy to tales of sorrow for many years from my position as an educator. While sharing our own writing and experiences across the country, my daughter and I have heard heart-breaking stories of children and families struggling with mental health conditions as well as all other disabilities. There is no magic to ease the heart. Given that this blog is an "inside meandering" of my thoughts I guess that is what I am doing this early morning. No answers to all the pain we share with our children. But is there exceptional joy when you experience those times when things are finally or momentarily better? When a child is happy? Is there less living on auto-pilot when you known this pain and then you are granted times of grace? Just a thought.....
(photo by Jordan, beautiful grandson)

Travelling with Linea

I have been in Savannah, Georgia. presenting with daughter Linea. We were at a conference with a theme of preparing students with disabilities for life after high school. Linea and I presented on bipolar disorder and information and thoughts on supporting young people with mental health disorders. I have friends all over the country and many of them were at this conference. Linea was completely amazing and touched everyone in the audience. I am never worried about her when we speak at events but it felt a little different having friends in the audience. Particularly friends that had been with me through the times that she was so sick. It really hit me how far we have come since just a few short years ago right before she was hospitalized and we were all together in Portland, Oregon. Now she is with them in a professional capacity as well as developing personal friendships. Life has many twists and turns. Jane and Deanne and Karen and many more friends from all over the country supported me and Linea through some very tough times. It was extra special to spend time with them and Linea just having fun together and learning from each other. I am so grateful to have such great friends...and for a daughter that is able to offer so much to others. Thank you! And, P.S. I am writing this from an airplane somewhere over Tennesee as we wing our way back to Seattle!

Apple Cheeks

Aren't 20 month old's just the cutest things ever?! A grandson provides a window into a world that we mothers quickly forget once our babies are off into the world. Every moment is precious, hilarious, completely lovely and sometimes heartbreaking. But mostly full of utter joy! Remembering my babies turning into toddlers and moving on to grade school, high school and college makes my head swim. Where did it all go? You think you will never forget the delight of simply watching your child with his first armful of apples on a beautiful fall day. And in the midst of work and running here and there and scrambling to meet all the tasks that come with raising children and keeping a roof over their heads we forget those blissful moments. My wish to you is to simply take a minute or two and watch a little human explore his or her first fall days. Precious!

You need to step back...?

I have been talking with a new friend of mine whose daughter is in the midst of a mental health crisis. It is somewhat unusual in most people's circle of friends to know someone who has a child in a lock-down psychiatric facility and who was placed there after spiraling into a psychotic meltdown. But, it happens and it happens to the best of families, moms, dads, sisters and brothers. Having gone through this myself I know that friends and acquaintances generally want to help. They want to offer the right words to support you in your panic and fear of the unknown. My new friend reminded me of what was helpful.....and what was not helpful.

Helpful:

Hope, hope and mostly, optimistic hope.

Things to say:

It will get better. There is excellent treatment available. It can take time and what can I do for you while it is taking time? Let me run errands, make a meal, buy you a coffee, pick up your children/dry-cleaning/paycheck and deposit it for you so that YOU can spend time with your sick child.

Not-so-helpful:

Run away, change the subject, interrupt to change the subject, look horrified.

Not-so-helpful things to say:

Oh-my-gawd, what are you going to do???? (not kidding, this has been said). Oh dear, this is so horrible, what will ever become of her/him? Let me tell you about my friend who's daughter/son had (fill in the most awful story you can imagine) and then add (and she/he is now living on the streets, completely destitute, fried on drugs and the family can do NOTHING)!

The last not-so-helpful thing to say deserves a few comments. "You should try to give (your son/daughter) space. You are too tied up in all of this. You need to back away some." Well, please change the crisis from a mental health crisis to a medical crisis. Your child has just been hit by a car and is in the ER and then in intensive care. What parent is ever advised to "give them space"? Friends and family rally around so that the parents can be there, doing everything they can to support the care team. Our friends and family offered that to us and no one ever suggested that we should lessen our time and effort to support our daughter. Thank you, family and friends! The above and not-so-help comments have been said to my friend. Somewhere in these comments, even if meant to be helpful, lies the subliminal message, "Could your parenting style have caused this?" Parents question themselves enough as it is in the midst of these crises. We need no nudges to consider our own feelings of guilt and fear.

So, dear friend, your daughter will get better. You will have some times in the near future when you can breathe again. There is hope. Your support and advocacy and sometimes even down right pushiness is critical for her recovery. Tell your friends what they can do for you even if it is just to listen. Stay the course. I wish you peace.

Salome Painting by Jordan Swain (http://www.jordanswain.com/)

Do something for yourself today!

It is almost the week-end and I have been working non-stop. The cold and flu season is sneaking up on us as it always does this time of year. It coincides with the university quarter system which means that we are halfway through and students are stressing out over mid-terms, term projects and papers, late nights and early mornings. I am proposing that any of you that read this post join me for a "mid-term" break of at least one hour today, Friday (don't wait until Saturday!) to take care of yourself. I am remembering my trip to Nicaragua. The picture was taken at the experimental farm outside of Matagalpa. The land had been completely stripped by poor farming methods. The amazing Nicaraguans working here have slowly and steadily returned the land to its glory. The jungle, the plants and even the howler monkeys returned to their home. It takes nurturning. A little bit every day. Go have tea in a coffee shop with a good book. Take a walk (under an umbrella if you are in Seattle) and look at the colors on the trees. Be alone. Don't talk. Pet your dog. Go home for lunch and soak in the tub for an hour. If you live in the city go to the nearest park and people watch. If you live in the country go outdoors and sit quietly until you notice all the life around you. Turn off your phone, don't read your email, close out all the requests and complaints and whines coming at you. If you are home with babies, do not clean/make dinner/pick up toys/ or run errands with baby in the car seat. Take just one hour and breathe. We all need to refresh ourselves...and keep breathing after we leave our "hour". Join me and if you take this challenge, tell me what you did for yourself!

New York City

Wow! New York City is an awesome place. Yes, true, I have never been there and was thoroughly immersed in the adjectives that everyone uses to describe this city. Huge, busy, crazy (cab drivers), crowded, anything you could want in food, shopping, sightseeing, ambience, culture (or lack thereof), ethnicity, music, etc. etc. etc. I loved it. Although this was a short visit the people that we had contact with were helpful and kind and certainly nothing like the stereotype of the New Yorker. (Speaking of stereotypes not everyone in Seattle necessarily wears Birkenstocks, drinks Starbucks and/or holds in their emotions). Anyway, I digress. We went to NYC to meet with our agent. Linea and I have written a book together and we are in the throes of getting this published (http://www.lineacinda.com/). Another step forward in this effort!

Less than five years ago we all supported Linea's dream to finish a degree in music performance and end up in New York. "Waiting tables while I tried to get music gigs," said Linea. Then she spiraled and crashed into a bone breaking depression that involved hospitalizations, medications, treatments beyond our comprehension and a diagnosis of bipolar disorder. With a big, wide and unpredictable detour she did not end up in New York in the music world. But she was in New York as we spent time with our agent in her office on Union Square discussing the publication of our book. Life is so mind boggling at times.