Marie Osmond's Son Commits Suicide

I'm putting this out quickly and therefore I'll be laying it right on the table. This post on my blog friend libhomo at Godless Liberal Homo site on Marie Osmond's son's suicide really hit home. I believe I have to agree with his opinion on this. Here's why.

You may or may not know that my daughter, now 22, happily married and working her way toward graduate school, is a lesbian who came out as "bi-sexual" at age 16. As if the rejection of several of her peers, physical and emotional abuse at the hands of her then boyfriend who become irate and deranged when she told him she thought she might actually be a lesbian and not bi-sexual after all, and a parallel bi-polar episode, weren't enough to make her want to kill herself  -  add to that the what-if of if I were a strict Mormon and added the beliefs of my screwed up church to conservations with my daughter, even while I loved her. I would have lost her to suicide. I know that with every fiber of my body. I know myself and there is no way I would choose a church's doctrine over my child's life and well-being.

 My daughter and daughter-in-law, taken during their college graduation week-end in 2009

Be aware that the Mormon church continues to advocate the use of Electro-Shock Therapy for people who are coersed into "treatment" because of their "problem" which had to be caused by the individual him or herself.


I feel for anyone who loses a child and I encounter the affects of that hurt every time I interact with WP's sister who lost her 25 year-old daughter to suicide in 2005. I know the pain my family and I went through knowing our daughter didn't want to live anymore. What I can't understand is why a person can't wrap their heads around the situation and understand that they have to do everything they can to save their child. If one's child is physically ill and needs many changes in order to live, wouldn't you go to the ends of the earth to try to eliminate or add anything you could possibly think of to save them or even to make them comfortable? Then why not chuck the church and the toxic friends and open lines of communication in order to save your child?

If I were a gay teen living in a strict Mormon household, I'd kill myself too.

What's Going On and Bipolar Article (long post; good article)

 (This is one of those blog award virus images that was floating around. I kind of like it to represent my honest scrap today. Thank you to (I think) Utah Savage for sending it the way of The Pagan Sphinx.)

I'm currently experiencing a sort of blog frenzy. In a couple of weeks blogging will become a low-priority for me, as I will be starting two new classes that overlap by a few weeks. There will a lot of travel and much to do and then it's the holidays. My mother has let me know that she is seriously considering visiting for the holidays, from Portugal. She has two little great-grandchildren (my brother's grandchildren). The last time she saw her GGD was when Anna was three months old. I have mixed feelings about her coming in winter. She doesn't do well in the cold or cooped up in my brother's suburban mansion. My house is too old and dusty for her. I'm really very afraid she'll get sick here.

My brother, whom I'll call Dr. Phil, is being a selfish jerk as usual by putting the squeeze on our mother to come for the holidays and otherwise laying a guilt trip on her about how her great-grandchildren are growing up and she's missing it. Ugh. He could go visit her. Dr. Phil, my nephew with the little kids and his wife are very well off. They could collectively more than afford to rent a flippin' villa near my mother's house, if they wanted to. My brother just has made no progress in getting beyond is anger at my parents for having moved back to Portugal for their retirement.  I too was saddened that my children would grow up largely without their grandparents' regular guidance. But I have been over that for many years now. In fact, now that my father is gone, especially, I think my mother is much better off living out the rest of her life in Portugal. She has many family and friends within walking distance, so she doesn't need to drive. She takes the bus and train to medical appointments and if she is truly in need of private transportation, those same family and friends are available to drive her and are, in fact, happy to do so. My brother had been putting a lot of pressure on her and on me to support his "position", to move back to the U.S. And I know that is not what my mother wants. She's told me over the course of a lot of conversations over many years, that that is not what she wants. Why my brother can't accep that must be between him and his shrink. I certainly hope he has one, as he is truly in need. And I am dead serious, not a mean-spirited bone or wish in me. I hope only the best for Dr. Phil ( and that nickname does make me smile a bit wryly).  I just wish he would lay off.

If only you could see Dr. Phil in action. He's tempered himself a bit over the years but I've lost count of how many times he hung up the phone on me in conversations we had a couple of years ago, during a particularly troubling period in my life:  SG1, as I wrote about above, was in one of many psych wards and my husband and I were splitting up. He called to demand information about my daughter's "problem", as he put it. He accused me of "killing our parents" (my father was still living then) by telling them about SG's mental illness. I was fit to be tied and I told him the conversation was over and he ended it himself immediately by hanging up.

The other significant time Dr. Phil hung up on me had to do with his preemptive strike against me over how I should quit my summer school job one week into it (and I really needed the income then) to go care for my mother upon her release from the hospital after gastric cancer surgery. I hadn't even had time to digest (pardon) the news when he's on the phone telling me that I had to go and that doing so would become my "defining moment" (that's why I dubbed him Dr. Phil) He was really busy, you see planning his vacation. When I took issue with his confrontational attitude and not so much with what he was wanting me to do, which I naturally ended up doing because it was the right thing to do for my mother, not because he was brow-beating me into it. And I told him so.

My mother asked my opinion last weekend of whether she should make the trans-Atlantic flight to Boston a couple of weeks before Christmas. I told her that was up to her and how she feels physically and emotionally about the trip and insisted that it should be her decision and her decision only. In typical Maria-Style, she kept she kept urging me to elaborate but I stuck to my line. I am not getting in the middle of that one!

They are writing sudden flurry and frenzy of notes in my medical file these days. It is nothing serious but I'm having to jump through some hoops for the medical system so I can be properly treated for chronic UTIs. If don't know the acronym, I'm glad for you. If you know it all too well, I'd be happy to comiserate. ;-)  I have one more appointment with the handsome Spanish urologist (he wears clogs. I have this thing for men in clogs) heheh.) and then I should be set-up with the proper treatment. I have tried every bloody thing under the sun to take care of the UTIs with more holistic approaches. We'll see what my options are.

SG1 and The Beloved are doing very well!  SG1 and I talk most days.The Americorps stint was really difficult for the first month or so her position, but she made it through with flying colors and really enjoying it. I'm not sure she wants to follow in her mother's footsteps as a teacher of young children, though her placement is at an elementary school where she is a literacy tutor for kindergarten and first grade. She's expressed a mild interest in perhaps being certified to teach high school. I listen and try to be supportive. SG1 is worried that she will not be able to do what she wants to do for graduate school. She is a brilliant girl and always has to have goals. And right now she is where she is and needs to finish this Americorps endeavor. With the economy the way it is, she may even have to do a second year of the program. She has two years to think about what she wants to pursue in graduate school. She mentioned law school again recently, which she hasn't done in a while. It bothers her not to know what she will doing in two years. It's interesting, because it bothers me to know what I'll be doing in two years. ;-)

SG2 is happy to be in Boston. I don't doubt she will stick around those parts when she is done with her studies. She loves the city and also that it's close enough to home that it's not such a big hassle to make the trip. She's very social and has a huge circle of friends. Funny how this kid was so shy when she was a baby, only coming out of her shell in around middle childhood. She has a new boyfriend, whom I'll  name Crocket. I have not yet met him but they are quite inthralled with one another. I've hinted plainly that he visit.  :-)

WP and I are just plain happy together. I love my dearly crazy, socially-inept loving weirdo almost-husband. 

 And yes, the time for slacking will soon reach its end. 

Meanwhile, I have things to share with you. I just found a mailing from CABF - Child and Adolescent Bipolar Foundation. I don't trust large organizations like this entirely. One critism I've heard of CABF is that they receive generous contributions from Big Pharma and therefore may be more predisposed to advocating drug treatment for children. Which is still a controversial subject among shrinks, teachers, parents and physicians.

My experiences with CABF all involved using their website for informatin when SG1 had the ultimate teen meltdown six years ago and ended up in and out of psychiatric hospitals for the next two years. (Some of you who have read this blog for a while may recall a bit about that.) I found the website to be very helpful and informative and since the correct drug or drugs was the only way to go for my daughter, I read a lot about medications on the site also. I am, in fact, an advocate of people receiving what they need to get better, regardless of the type of condition. Taking the medication route is a personal/family decision.

I was encouraged today to read this article in the newsletter I receive from CABF, about adolescent bipolar disorder:
Young Adults May Outgrow Bipolar Disorder Source: University of Missouri-Columbia press release

This was a slice of my life. I was inspired by Spadoman Joe at  Round Circle.
Thanks, Joe and Peace

Jaco Pastorius With Weather Report

I have a thing for the electric bass...and certain bassists...

I really didn't know Jaco Pastorius until I saw him on tour with Joni Mitchell in 1979, for what has become known as The Mingus Tour. What he added to Joni's compositions couldn't have been more perfect in atmosphere; nor his interpretations more stellar. And while I'm not, as a rule, heavily into the technical aspects of music, it's easy to recognize Pastorius's genius. Above all, he was an intense, soulful, passionate player. It is for those qualities I admire him most.

Pastorius is perhaps best known for his work with the jazz-fusion band Weather Report. He was with the band from 1977 until 1981. He is recognized as being responsible for the band's success in the late 70's and early 80's.

I knew a little about his life from having read and commented on what was at that time the first blog-style web page I'd ever seen. It was written by his wife Ingrid. I either never knew or had forgotten that he had bipolar disorder; of which I was reminded in the youtube comments. In his later years, Pastorius' drinking and drugging caused his mental health to reach a devastating level. He died as a result of injuries sustained in a confrontation with a nightclub bouncer.

This is a little tribute, if you will. Just because I felt like it. :-)

The Peace Tree

For better or for worse, my post is up at The Peace Tree: Mad Pride Part II

Peace,
Pagan

Mad Pride

What's Goin' On

My 19 year-old daughter whom I call Supergirl Two or SG2, a.k.a. Ultimate Spawn on her dad's blog, is done for the semester. She'll be living between her dad's and my house and...hopefully working. She has an interview tomorrow at a local supermarket. I always preferred waitressing when I was in college: fast money and you could cheat. This tells you that I am, in fact, 30% evil. hehehe She is still in suspence about a couple of her grades but she thinks she did well.

Meanwhile, Supergirl One or SG1, a.ka. Elder Progeny on her dad's blog (he's always been more clever than I, cunning runt!), called me today to announce that she is DONE for the semester and she is most happy and relieved. She said she had pulled an all-nighter and fell asleep at 6:30 a.m. today. My advise: take a blanket and a warm body and go lay out in the spring sun.

And me, I'm happy now that I'm home. Work had its magic moments, as it does daily. My thought for the day has been: I think that if children were properly entertained, they would learn so much more than if they went to school. Followed by a mantra - you think too much, you think too much...

So. I read this article in the New York Times on Sunday, went to Feministing today, at the suggestion of my daughter and had to talk about it here.

At feministing, I was introduced to the funny and charming Liz Spikle on a youtube video they featured. I'm looking forward to reading her blog which discusses mental health issues. I have a strong feeling she's on my side. :-) Check it out. Especially if you don't have a mental illness.

A Blog Award And Why I Am So Sickeningly Sentimental

My Blog Award from Bobbie

I received a blog award today. A simple, sweet message from the lovely blogger Bobbie at Almost There. I can't think of anyone in the blogosphere whom I could be happier to be considered a friend of. I hope that when I am in my seventies, as Bobbie is, I am half as sharp, active and strong of character as she is.

I'm overly sentimental. That is the truth. I'm just so full of love. Really. It's not an act. I'm not trying to hide anything. I don't twirl around or bounce or throw my arms around everyone all the time. But I'm happy inside. Sickeningly happy. Most of the time.

And you know what? I deserve it. I suffered from depression since I was about five years old. The family genes of depression overtook me despite having loving and dedicated parents and basically a pretty good life.

I finally understood what was wrong when, after having a bout with postpartum depression, I began to ask questions about what was making me feel so worthless, angry and hopeless. After trying talk therapy with an ineffective and manipulative male therapist (who, by the way never once mentioned medication as an option), I finally went to my family doctor and was prescribed an antidepressant. I tried several until I hit on the one that worked for me.

Then came the deterioration of my marriage and my daughter's diagnosis of bipolar disorder at age sixteen. Here again, the mental health professionals failed us. After taking our daughter to a handful of therapist for what we had no clue what to call, never once was the possibility of bipolar disorder or depression even mentioned to us. It was called a "family systems problem" or a "parenting problem". Until the day when I found my Supergirl curled up in a corner frightened out of her mind because she didn't know what was wrong with her. She had crashed. She also confessed something to me so horrible, that when I found out all I wanted to do was to run outside to scream and cry as loud as my voice could possibly allow: she had been raped by her boyfriend. A kid we had welcomed into our family and had treated with kindness and respect.

As if all of that wasn't enough, Supergirl also came out as a lesbian at our rural high school. You can imagine how well that went over with most of the student population. She was now not only ostracized for being a mental patient but also for being gay.

The next two years were a hell-hole of admittances to psychiatric hospitals, visits with shrinks and therapists and a roster of medications that would make you toes curl and your skin turn green. The lithium caused her to gain about 40 lbs. and created acne that left scars. Another medication caused her hair to fall out in large chunks. Imagine going from being a beautiful, slender dancer with a pimple here and there to gaining that much weight and having so much acne it was hard for you to look at yourself in the mirror. Imagine also being a brilliant student and having your intellect dulled by medications to help you sleep and lessen the anxiety caused by the disease and the trauma. It tore us up so badly that nothing, absolutely nothing could have made a dent in the pain and sorrow I felt during that time. What saved me from ending up a psych patient myself was that I had the anti depressive to keep me stable. And my daughter needed so very badly. Luckily for me, I have a garden-variety depression that is easily treated with the proper meds. Unluckily for Supergirl , she has a stubborn, very severe form of bipolar disorder and at that time was also suffering from PTSD from the rape. She was on suicide watch several times, for weeks at a time.

Amazingly, Supergirl I was able to graduate from high school with honors and in the top 10% of her class. She would have graduated with a higher class rank but naturally, her grades dropped to some extent. She was accepted early decision to her dream college and though she had to take a year off for medical leave, she will be graduating on time in 2009,most likely with honors. During the year's medical leave she was finally put on the right medication, Lamictal, which is being termed a miracle drug for people with bipolar disorder. It is indeed. SGI has experienced no side effects. She has lost all the extra weight and her skin is nice again. More importantly, she is incredibly, sickeningly happy. Like her mother.

Do you see why I call her Supergirl?

My Supergirl is in love with a beautiful, brilliant and caring young woman; her peer at Mount Holyoke College. They plan on being married when they complete their post-graduate work. We are thrilled for them and I gain another daughter. So happy.

So, you see. I really am happy. When you've traveled with your beloved child to hell and back and come out the other side into the light, you have every reason to feel happy, thankful and proud. You find out what's really important to you. You don't sweat the small stuff. You take nothing and no one for granted. You learn to love your ex-husband as your friend. You learn that it is more important to give. You learn that love is everything.

If you've made it this far, I thank you, kind people. I really needed to let that out and it feels good.