Category Archives: family

My father’s mental illness made him think I was dead

I remember getting the call that my father had been rushed to the VA hospital in Phoenix. He had been in and out of the hospital a lot lately and each time seemed worse than the last. I remember it being late  – by the time I pulled into the hospital parking lot it was dark.

I was nervous as a walked through the corridor to the psychiatric unit and asked to see my dad. My parents had divorced when I was 20, so as the oldest child the responsibility of my father had landed on me. This was not my first time dealing with this situation, but it was the first time I felt its weight. I had a sick feeling as I was directed into a large room with chairs and a phone on a small side table. I could tell it was a lounge and visitation area for patients and their families, but other than my father who was sitting next to the phone, it was empty that night.

As I walked in he grabbed me. This was really unusual – my father never hugged or had shown affection towards me. I thought he was going to hug me until he started feeling around my stomach and waistline.

He asked, “Where are the bullet holes?”

Of course I was confused and asked what he meant. He continued to feel around for gunshot wounds. I had to take a step back.

At the time I was young and did not have an understanding of the extent of my father’s mental illness.  I proclaimed, “Dad! How can I be dead if I am standing right here?” My father was confused. He told me about a shootout with the police where I had gotten caught in the crossfire. He saw them take me away in a body bag. It did not make sense to him that I could be standing before him. 

The blow hit me in that moment. It was as if someone had punched me in the gut, hard, knocking the wind out of me. Until then I had not accepted the magnitude of my father’s illness.

I could not imagine living my life seeing such awful things and believing they were real. I had to stop and consider that losing his children must be one of my father’s greatest fears. Especially for it to haunt him so heavily.

My father has a hard time being convinced something did or did not occur. You can spend all your time telling him the voices are not real or that no one is conspiring against him, but you will never be able to persuade him. To him, they are real. 

There have been other instances like this one. Once he thought my siblings and I were all four killed in a car accident. He said he received a call saying all four of us had died.  At the time my brother was stationed in Afghanistan and the rest of us all lived in different places. There was no possible way we would have been in the same car together. Schizophrenia does not operate in logic. It causes the mind to believe what it wants and there is no convincing otherwise. My father didn’t fully believe we were all okay until he saw us for himself. It was a difficult concept for him, but today he will tell you that all of his children are alive and well.

My father still has hallucinations and moments of paranoia but taking his medication correctly plays a huge part in keeping them to a minimum. 

I often find myself afraid for my dad. That someday his illness will take him to a level of madness that he will not be able to return from. I don’t want him living his life continually experiencing a fear that we can only imagine. At least for now he still has great moments of reality.

I know he desires for his mind to be free.  I see it every time he tells me God has cured him, and he doesn’t need his medication anymore. And I want to believe it. I want to believe with all my heart that he is better and that his mind is no longer haunted by such horrific thoughts. I also know there is no magic pill or cure that will suddenly make him better. I know it every time I get a call telling me my father has been admitted to the hospital again.

We will never understand why this disease has chosen him, but I know he would never wish it on another soul. He is too kindhearted for that.  Yet this is a lifetime for him. A lifetime of experiences many cannot understand. All I can do is hope and pray that his episodes are few. That he no longer sees me being carried away in a body bag. That I no longer have to tell my dear, fragile father, “I am not dead, I am standing right here. I wish I could help you.”

The pain of really seeing yourself

I remember clearly the day I was somehow capable of seeing myself. I mean, truly seeing….

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I didn’t immediately seek help but it was at that moment when I  knew I needed it. I would continue on a path where it took me years to seek treatment but in the back of my mind I knew I was sick. The image of my face burnt into my memory. Why I could see myself this day and then not again, I do not know.

I had been starving myself for days. I was constantly tired and sleeping more and more. It had to be from the lack of nutrition. I loved sleeping. When I was asleep I didn’t have to worry about food or deal with people expecting me to eat. I had also convinced myself that as I slept I was getting thinner. I did eat but I would binge eat and then rid myself of all the large quantities of food by forcing myself to vomit. Then I would go without eating again. I also popped laxatives like candy. The feel of food in my stomach disgusted me. I had to get rid of it as soon as I was able too. Sometimes this meant hiding and vomiting after eating out with friends or family. I always managed to eat in front of others. I never wanted anyone to know about my secret battle with food. I thought I was hiding it but I now believe some people knew.

On this particular day I had woke up late again. I dressed quickly and grabbed my makeup bag to finish getting ready at the office. There was a small mirror in the hall where I could finish up my makeup before the office would get busy.

That is when it happened. I walked past the mirror on my way to the restroom and I saw it… I saw me. I saw a person I did not recognize. A pale person drained of life with a sunken face and large protruding cheek bones. I had brittle hair and extremely dry skin from the continual vomitting. There were black rings around my eyes and a yellowish tone to my skin. I was horrified!
I was seeing myself… the real me. A person I had never seen. I did not want to believe in that brief moment that the reflection I saw was me but I knew in my gut that it was.
I do not know what happened in that moment that allowed the true image of myself to be revealed. It was as if my mind opened up for a split second allowing me to view the monstrosity I had become. I saw what I had done to myself.

This moment prepared me to believe I truly needed help and eventually I did get treatment. It would be several years down the road but that day stuck with me.

Today I try to lead a healthy lifestyle. I still have days where I struggle with self imagine but I look back and ask myself, “was I truly happy in that condition?” Of course the answer is NO. My size, weight, ect… none of that really made a difference. What mattered most was dealing with what was going on with me on the inside. Finding what was behind my behavior. There were so many underlying issues I hadn’t faced at the time that fed into my disease…  Until I faced them, I could not truly face myself and my own reflection of truth.

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My scale was ruling my life

Yes, I said it. My scale… a 20 dollar, digital box that I would stand on every morning ruled my life. The number that came up would determine if I have a good or bad day. It sat so perfectly on my bathroom floor and could strip me of any amount of joy in a matter of seconds.
Each morning I would remove all my clothing. I did not want anything adding even an extra ounce to me. And regardless of what it told me I would exam myself in the mirror and go over every area that I felt needed improvement. My back, my legs, of course my stomach. Nothing was flat enough, thin enough, good enough.

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I was a pro at dieting. I would go on any fad diet I would hear about. I would think to myself, “they need me as a spokes person, I make this look easy.” But the truth is I made it look sick. I didn’t realize how sick at the time. I could go three days at this point without eating. Friends starting voicing concern. Telling me I was getting scary thin. Yet there were still others who I wanted to notice and didn’t. I could not eat without throwing up and I knew people saw me and heard me. I wanted them to care… wanting (maybe even needing) that attention intensified my illness.

I was also in a depressive state. I could feel and see my life unravelling around me. I didn’t know what to do anymore. I was going through a divorce and I would cry and cry. My sons would visit and I couldn’t keep it together. The hardest thing was seeing them afraid. It was at this point that I knew they needed to stay with their father until I could pull it together. And to add to it, missing them caused me to mourn for them. It got to where I would hide in bed and wasn’t eating at all. My heart hurt, my body was weak. I wasn’t even sure why I was still here… It was God’s grace that kept me alive. I didn’t feel I had a purpose anymore. I had become so self involved I was only thinking of myself the majority of the time. Something needed to change. Anorexia had consumed me and it was killing me mentally and physically.

To be continued…

The military and mental health disorders

Today is Veteran’s day and children are out of school and many others have the day off.
My Facebook news feed is overflowing with photos and statements of gratitude toward servicemen and everyone seems truly grateful until tomorrow when there is no longer a reminder to be grateful to those who have fought to protect this country.
I am not saying people aren’t truly thankful but there is little than can be said to those who have sacraficed. We know of the many soldiers that return wounded not just in body but in mind. Like my uncle who returned from the Vietnam war with an undiagnosed mental disorder that soon followed. My very own father had a mental breakdown while serving and mental illness soon took hold and he was given a disability discharge.

We proudly wear the title of “Land of the free and home of the brave” while we have become home of many military mentally ill. Are they brave? Yes! The bravest!! But our freedom has come at a great cost.

How many veterans are homeless in your city due to mental illness and who are we to say it is okay because we are free? Are we simply going to say it is the price we have to pay for freedom? Well, I am telling you that is not okay!

Many of our servicement are left in the balance because their mental issues aren’t considered severe enough. So these men and women are discharged from duty but are considered “chaptered” out for misconduct instead of getting the medical help that they need. This means a less than honorable discharge and no retirement, no student aid or medical benefits (that are promised to them at enlistment).

Often a generic code is used to discharge the men and women that have been released due to a mental health issue or disorder such as PTSD. Because of this there are no records of how many men and women are discharged from duty based on their mental health… which often results in a lack of followup care and medical mental health treatment for those who desperately need it.

We need to take a stand to ensure those that have been discharged from duty do not continue to have conditions that remain downplayed and untreated.

How can we help?

First, it is important to be educated on what is happening with our military and their mental health.

Second, be a voice and spread the word! The more we talk about the issues it brings awareness and can not so easily be swept under the rug.

Third, contact your Congressman or woman. Men and women who have enlisted to protect this nation should not lose their benefits from a diagnosis that is a result of serving this country.

More stories are coming out and though we are not where we need to be progress IS being made. We all need to be a part of the change. This affects those that serve, their families, and their friends.

I have only touched the tip of the iceburg with this topic. If you are interested in knowing more please look up and read the below posts.

http://www.npr.org/2015/10/28/451146230/missed-treatment-soldiers-with-mental-health-issues-dismissed-for-misconduct

http://thinkprogress.org/health/2014/12/16/3604091/ptsd-veterans-benefits/

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