What a year!
There has been so much loss this year in my life ... the lives of people I know ... my community. It just seems it's one after another without end.
A family member is struggling with a wife who has a mental illness that's untreated. Sadly she's in the medical profession. They have a beautiful young daughter who I adore. Things turned bad last week with the wife attacking him while the little girl was home. He tried to get away with the cell to call the police - something we have begged him to do all the times in the past but he wouldn't - and his elbow hit her cheek. Police come - his nose is broken, hand swollen, little girl saying "mommy hit daddy" and he's arrested because she had a friend there counter that. Now here's a child in the middle of a battle she doesn't deserve and yet another person in the community who needs MH help not getting it. In our state - the governor cut the mental health budget 2% more with our streets already filled with people not getting the treatment they need.
It's a system I fought for my son. It failed him and so many others. Stigma is still so much alive but MH is no different than any physical issue. It's treatable - you can get help - you can recover - you can be productive, and thrive. I work in this field because of my son and the lack of options we had. I left education to do this for all the Randy Lee's out there who need a voice. And I have a loud one :)
Stigma it's a battle one person can do alone. It's a fight we all must fight. Don't hate a person -- treat them differently - make fun of them because you don't understand it. Educate yourself - learn what the symptoms are, learn how to help, learn to accept.
I can tell you that there are days I wake up and I don't feel like getting out of bed. I don't feel like going to work and putting on a smile and spewing out positive thoughts for others when all I want to do is forget, veg out and pretend it's all a dream. I've earn that - right? Well, I've done that. I'm human - I need a day now and then when I don't have to be strong. Then I have the days when I pull myself out of that bed, drag myself into the shower, force myself to go to work and deal with everyone who has it 100 times worse than I do.
Worse than me? Worse than the lose of a child? I can hear everyone now -- she's out of her mind! What is worse than this? I had 18 years of my beautiful son's presence here on earth. Not all of those were peaches and cream, happy happy joy joy days. I was blessed by God to be Randy Lee's mom for 18 years. Good & bad. He choose me. I got that honor. I am forever grateful for that gift ... I can tell you and I have - even knowing the ending, I wouldn't give up the opportunity.
There are others out there who have endured voices in their head 24/7/365 non-stop. Telling them horrible things about themselves. Having thoughts they can't stop. Manic swings of ups and downs, self medicating just to try to feel normal. Never having a moment's peace - never knowing how it feels to be a mom ... a dad ... not able to be a good mom or dad because of your illness. I think ... I think that's worse.
Randy Lee was so many things - and I could write the good here ... funny ... loving ... sweet ... caring ... but he was manic, bi-polar (undiagnosed until his death) tortured, self hating, angry, and so many other things. Didn't for one second mean he was a bad person -- he was loved any less or that he mattered. Randy Lee had an undiagnosed mental illness. In hindsight it was all there but I didn't know the signs. Even as a baby -- a toddler -- he needed little to no sleep. He would binge eat ... not eat ... sleep .. not sleep ... OCD's .... too clingy ... to distant ... it was all there. He was my grandma up and down ... in all ways. He used to feel normal -- he told everyone he used to feel ... to be normal. No one listened until it was too late.
So, I challenge you. Each of you who has known loss. Who has lived through the worst possible pain any mom could endure -- any dad could think of. I challenge each of you to honor your child by being a person to help another person. To reach out to someone who doesn't have anyone to speak for them .. who is out of your comfort zone ... who simply may need one person to smile at them and tell them it's okay. Make a difference ... be the person for another that makes a difference.
I'm going to wake up tomorrow morning. Those first few seconds before it all sinks in again and then I remember what year it is and that Randy Lee is gone. I'm going to get out of bed ... shower ... get dressed ... love on my pups ... and go to work where I know even on the days no one says it to me ... that I do make a difference ... tomorrow, I may be the difference for just one person when it truly matters for that person. I do that to honor my greatest blessing .... Randy Lee :) Peace ... Hugs ... and the knowledge that you do matter.
A family member is struggling with a wife who has a mental illness that's untreated. Sadly she's in the medical profession. They have a beautiful young daughter who I adore. Things turned bad last week with the wife attacking him while the little girl was home. He tried to get away with the cell to call the police - something we have begged him to do all the times in the past but he wouldn't - and his elbow hit her cheek. Police come - his nose is broken, hand swollen, little girl saying "mommy hit daddy" and he's arrested because she had a friend there counter that. Now here's a child in the middle of a battle she doesn't deserve and yet another person in the community who needs MH help not getting it. In our state - the governor cut the mental health budget 2% more with our streets already filled with people not getting the treatment they need.
It's a system I fought for my son. It failed him and so many others. Stigma is still so much alive but MH is no different than any physical issue. It's treatable - you can get help - you can recover - you can be productive, and thrive. I work in this field because of my son and the lack of options we had. I left education to do this for all the Randy Lee's out there who need a voice. And I have a loud one :)
Stigma it's a battle one person can do alone. It's a fight we all must fight. Don't hate a person -- treat them differently - make fun of them because you don't understand it. Educate yourself - learn what the symptoms are, learn how to help, learn to accept.
I can tell you that there are days I wake up and I don't feel like getting out of bed. I don't feel like going to work and putting on a smile and spewing out positive thoughts for others when all I want to do is forget, veg out and pretend it's all a dream. I've earn that - right? Well, I've done that. I'm human - I need a day now and then when I don't have to be strong. Then I have the days when I pull myself out of that bed, drag myself into the shower, force myself to go to work and deal with everyone who has it 100 times worse than I do.
Worse than me? Worse than the lose of a child? I can hear everyone now -- she's out of her mind! What is worse than this? I had 18 years of my beautiful son's presence here on earth. Not all of those were peaches and cream, happy happy joy joy days. I was blessed by God to be Randy Lee's mom for 18 years. Good & bad. He choose me. I got that honor. I am forever grateful for that gift ... I can tell you and I have - even knowing the ending, I wouldn't give up the opportunity.
There are others out there who have endured voices in their head 24/7/365 non-stop. Telling them horrible things about themselves. Having thoughts they can't stop. Manic swings of ups and downs, self medicating just to try to feel normal. Never having a moment's peace - never knowing how it feels to be a mom ... a dad ... not able to be a good mom or dad because of your illness. I think ... I think that's worse.
Randy Lee was so many things - and I could write the good here ... funny ... loving ... sweet ... caring ... but he was manic, bi-polar (undiagnosed until his death) tortured, self hating, angry, and so many other things. Didn't for one second mean he was a bad person -- he was loved any less or that he mattered. Randy Lee had an undiagnosed mental illness. In hindsight it was all there but I didn't know the signs. Even as a baby -- a toddler -- he needed little to no sleep. He would binge eat ... not eat ... sleep .. not sleep ... OCD's .... too clingy ... to distant ... it was all there. He was my grandma up and down ... in all ways. He used to feel normal -- he told everyone he used to feel ... to be normal. No one listened until it was too late.
So, I challenge you. Each of you who has known loss. Who has lived through the worst possible pain any mom could endure -- any dad could think of. I challenge each of you to honor your child by being a person to help another person. To reach out to someone who doesn't have anyone to speak for them .. who is out of your comfort zone ... who simply may need one person to smile at them and tell them it's okay. Make a difference ... be the person for another that makes a difference.
I'm going to wake up tomorrow morning. Those first few seconds before it all sinks in again and then I remember what year it is and that Randy Lee is gone. I'm going to get out of bed ... shower ... get dressed ... love on my pups ... and go to work where I know even on the days no one says it to me ... that I do make a difference ... tomorrow, I may be the difference for just one person when it truly matters for that person. I do that to honor my greatest blessing .... Randy Lee :) Peace ... Hugs ... and the knowledge that you do matter.
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