Stop the Stigma

Today in the clinic, I saw three people with anxiety and depression. Only one had been on medication previously, one had been through therapy at one time. Sadly, one had a previous suicide attempt and instead of being treated properly he had been placed in handcuffs and put in a jail cell overnight.

What are we doing in our country that we are ignoring the problem of mental illness to the point that someone is arrested for a suicide attempt? I was absolutely appalled. No wonder this young person had been afraid to ever ask for any help until today.

When will we stop labeling those with anxiety, depression, bipolar disorder, OCD, or any other form of mental illness as "crazy" or treating them as though they have to hide their illness? We do not expect any other type of illness to be ashamed of the card that was dealt to them, so why must someone that has this type feel stigmatized?

I always attempt to open the conversation up to my patients in a very non-judgemental and caring way. I most often just listen. I explain the chemical reasons for the way they feel, how medication can help, and offer alternative forms of treatment. Most importantly, I let them know it is okay to be themselves.

Some Days

Some days I get up and I think "I can't do it today!" and seriously consider putting my jammies back on and watching cartoons all day. Seriously. I am a 44 year old professional woman that is 13 weeks away from a Masters Degree. Today was one of those days.
Then I discovered my childhood friend Ronnie's mom on Facebook right before I left for work! Well, that put a new spin on things!
Ronnie was one of my best friends. He moved in across the street from me when I was 11. He was a cute little guy with curly brown hair and big brown eyes, all gangly arms and legs, two years younger than me. He was a mess! Always in trouble, typical boy, the little brother I always wanted. In fact, with our brown eyes and the way we harassed one another, everyone thought he was my little brother. Eventually, I was going to his house before school each morning to be sure he was ready for school (his mom had to leave for work early). I helped him clear through high school with his homework and advice about girls. After I moved away and got married, I would run into him maybe once a year and he always grabbed me up in a big hug. He grew up into a tall and handsome man, just like I always knew he would. I lost touch with him many years ago...in fact, the last time I saw him I was pregnant with my oldest daughter (18 years ago). I have tried to look him up, but he is evidently the only person in the world who refuses to join Facebook!
Tonight I messaged his Mom! She has moved across the country and has remarried, so I literally found her by accident. She and I are talking on Facebook, so hopefully soon I will get to talk to my old friend.
I'm glad I didn't put my jammies back on today!

Pack Your Bags - Sarasota Photos

Travel is my escape from reality. Everyone should travel as often as they can. Save all year long. Skip that trip to Starbucks, pack your lunch, clip some coupons, and save the money back in a special account for a trip. Go as often as you can and if you can't afford to go far, find some place nearby and take a trip anyway. You will be amazed at what is in your own backyard! Even a few days away will bring you home feeling like a new person. Make sure you take plenty of photos while you are there, with your phone if it is all you have but I would recommend investing in a good camera eventually. Here are a few photos from our last trip to Sarasota, Florida. Absolutely amazing.

My Daddy

I certainly have changed since I started this blog so many years ago. That was such a difficult time in my life, and as I look back now I can really reflect on that and understand why I was struggling so much. My hero was fading fast before my eyes. My father had been diagnosed with Parkinson's. The progression was rapid. He was working, driving, paying the bills, fixing things...being our dad...and then suddenly he wasn't. This unbelievably intelligent man, that read a book every few days, played multiple instruments, could build anything, could answer any question you asked him without a thought, was suddenly unable to dress himself. Our hearts broke.
When you think of Parkinson's disease, you imagine the trembling and shaking. We hardly saw that. Oh, it happened occasionally, but it was rare. With Daddy, it started with the mask. His face changed. He lost his spark. His beautiful blue eyes didn't shine with the ornery gleam they always had before. Sometimes it would shine through...those moments were golden. His mind wasn't clear anymore. It was day to day, minute to minute. He would remember some things clearly, other times not know who family member were. He shuffled when he walked; sometimes he fell. Watching my wonderful father go through this was the most heartbreaking thing I have ever experienced.
We lost my father on July 31st, 2011. He was surrounded by all five of his children and most of his 12 grandchildren. We all miss him terribly.
So I do not dwell on those hard times. My Daddy would not be pleased at any wallowing! Instead, I turn up the music and dance. I sing along with Dolly Parton or George Thorogood and imagine Daddy smiling down and saying "that's my girl!" I went back to school and am about to finish my Masters Degree. I still want to make him proud.
My father taught me many things, the most important of which was this: live every single moment with JOY and do not wait do things, because if you do you might miss out on life.