January 1993 I was 7 months pregnant with my first child. I had just months before started to see my father again. I didn't see him very often when I was growing up, despite him living in the same town. That was his choice, I guess life got in the way and he just didn't have the time? I honestly don't know, I never did ask him, he was like a stranger to me. I had friends and acquaintances that knew him better than I did. Those few months were nice, actually seeing him and talking with him more times than I normally would have in a year's time.
It was too late though. He was dieing and he knew it. I didn't hear that news officially until that January. I was visiting him in the hospital after hearing he had lung cancer, I was told he had 6-9 months left. I remember thinking, well, at least he will be around to meet his first grandchild. What he didn't want to share, but my mother told me, was that he also had Cirrhosis of the liver. Years of abusing his body had taken it's toll. He was 43 years old.
Unfortunately, he didn't last long, passing away a week after my visit with him at the hospital. He never did get to meet his first grandchild. And, even knowing how young he was and the reasons why he died didn't stop me from continuing to drink (I did stop drinking for all of my pregnancies and while nursing however).
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
Depression symptoms
There are many symptoms of depression and if depression goes untreated it can lead to suicide. More than 1 out of every 10 people battling depression commit suicide. Sadly, many people never do get diagnosed or treated. There IS help out there and you CAN feel better. Suicide is not the answer! Everyone has feelings of depression at one time or another, whether it's from losing a loved one or just life's hardships in general. That is completely normal. It's when several of these symptoms are combined and last for a prolonged period of time that one should seek medical attention.
~Feelings of helplessness
~Feeling fatigued/having decreased energy
~Feeling hopeless
~Loss of interest in activities you once enjoyed (including sex)
~Irritability
~Insomnia
~Excessive sleeping
~Increased or decreased appetite
~Feelings of worthlessness
~Feeling sad, anxious, or empty
~Aches and pains that don't go away with treatment
~Thoughts of suicide
There is a very high risk of suicide with depression. Anyone who expresses thoughts of suicide should be taken very seriously! Some signs of being suicidal are:
~Talking about suicide
~Saying things like "Things would be better if I weren't here"
~Saying how hopeless and helpless they are
~Getting affairs in order (like changing a will)
~Suddenly being calm and happy after being very sad
~Calling or visiting loved ones
~Having clinical depression
~Losing interest in things that were once enjoyed
~Being reckless (like driving through red lights or other dangerous things that could lead to death)
If you or anyone you know have any of these symptoms, please seek help immediately! If you are having suicidal thoughts you can call 1-800-SUICIDE (1-800-784-2433)or 1-800-273-TALK (1-800-273-8255), go to your local emergency room or seek help from a mental health professional.
There is help, you can feel better. I know, my son is proof.
`
~Feelings of helplessness
~Feeling fatigued/having decreased energy
~Feeling hopeless
~Loss of interest in activities you once enjoyed (including sex)
~Irritability
~Insomnia
~Excessive sleeping
~Increased or decreased appetite
~Feelings of worthlessness
~Feeling sad, anxious, or empty
~Aches and pains that don't go away with treatment
~Thoughts of suicide
There is a very high risk of suicide with depression. Anyone who expresses thoughts of suicide should be taken very seriously! Some signs of being suicidal are:
~Talking about suicide
~Saying things like "Things would be better if I weren't here"
~Saying how hopeless and helpless they are
~Getting affairs in order (like changing a will)
~Suddenly being calm and happy after being very sad
~Calling or visiting loved ones
~Having clinical depression
~Losing interest in things that were once enjoyed
~Being reckless (like driving through red lights or other dangerous things that could lead to death)
If you or anyone you know have any of these symptoms, please seek help immediately! If you are having suicidal thoughts you can call 1-800-SUICIDE (1-800-784-2433)or 1-800-273-TALK (1-800-273-8255), go to your local emergency room or seek help from a mental health professional.
There is help, you can feel better. I know, my son is proof.
`
The hospitalization
I rode in the back of the ambulance with Nick to the hospital he was being admitted to. Walking into that place was scary. I can't imagine how all of those kids felt. I proceeded to talk with a lady who was admitting him, I felt like I was signing away my rights to my own son, but I was drained both physically and emotionally and just signed everything she told me to. I just wanted him to get better, that's it, just better.
The "rules" were overwhelming. Just to get in to visit we had to go to the front door and sign in. Then, go around the building to another door and press a buzzer to be let in-through 3 different locked doors. We weren't allowed to bring anything in that wasn't approved, he wasn't allowed to have any staples on his school work, we weren't allowed to have a pen or a cell phone. His shoes couldn't have laces, the bathroom door was always locked. He was literally in lock down, being supervised 24 hours a day.
The look on his face during the time in the hospital is one I will never forget. He was completely miserable. He didn't want anyone to visit him, including his parents. Of course, we ignored that and went anyway. I hated the fact that I couldn't just give him a hug and a kiss to make him feel better like I used to when he was little. It broke my heart seeing him like that. I felt helpless, even though I knew being in the hospital was the best thing for him at the moment, he was alive.
They started him on medication to treat depression, the first of many that would be tried. After 2 weeks of being hospitalized, they said he could go home. He was to start seeing a therapist and a psychiatrist and he was told he could go back to school. I was scared. He was by no means better. He knew that suicide wasn't the answer and he had numbers he could call if he was feeling suicidal, but it was still scary for me having him come home. I had to trust that he would say something if he was feeling suicidal. That was so hard for me.
The "rules" were overwhelming. Just to get in to visit we had to go to the front door and sign in. Then, go around the building to another door and press a buzzer to be let in-through 3 different locked doors. We weren't allowed to bring anything in that wasn't approved, he wasn't allowed to have any staples on his school work, we weren't allowed to have a pen or a cell phone. His shoes couldn't have laces, the bathroom door was always locked. He was literally in lock down, being supervised 24 hours a day.
The look on his face during the time in the hospital is one I will never forget. He was completely miserable. He didn't want anyone to visit him, including his parents. Of course, we ignored that and went anyway. I hated the fact that I couldn't just give him a hug and a kiss to make him feel better like I used to when he was little. It broke my heart seeing him like that. I felt helpless, even though I knew being in the hospital was the best thing for him at the moment, he was alive.
They started him on medication to treat depression, the first of many that would be tried. After 2 weeks of being hospitalized, they said he could go home. He was to start seeing a therapist and a psychiatrist and he was told he could go back to school. I was scared. He was by no means better. He knew that suicide wasn't the answer and he had numbers he could call if he was feeling suicidal, but it was still scary for me having him come home. I had to trust that he would say something if he was feeling suicidal. That was so hard for me.
The hours felt like days
As I stood in the hallway of the Emergency Room just outside my son's room the tears came. I was relieved he was OK physically, he didn't have any broken bones! Emotionally was an entirely different story. I was sad that he felt so badly and I had no idea, I felt like the worst parent in the world. I couldn't understand why he didn't say something to us. How were we supposed to help him if he didn't let us know? Why didn't I know? Looking back, I see all the symptoms clear as day, but I was clueless before this day, honestly, truly clueless. All he said was he didn't know what to tell us, he knew he was miserable, but he couldn't put his feelings into words. So he decided attempting suicide was the only answer.
The staff ushered us into a small waiting room so I wouldn't be standing there blubbering for all to see. I know I was in shock, but I also remember not getting one encouraging word from my husband, not a hug, he never even reached out to hold my hand. I know we all deal with things differently, but that really bothered me. If ever I needed a hug, that was the moment.
The next few hours were spent answering questions, so many questions, to many different people. There was one lady, whose name escapes me at the moment, that was an Angel. I'm pretty sure she was head of Psychiatry at the hospital, or maybe just the Emergency Department. She was extremely helpful in getting insurance stuff sorted out and finding a hospital that would take an adolescent, one that wasn't hours away from us. I am grateful for all of her help and understanding and her repeatedly checking in with us to let us know what was happening. I was so completely lost that I just went with whatever these doctors were telling me. I was in no way being an advocate for my son, I just did as I was told.
The staff ushered us into a small waiting room so I wouldn't be standing there blubbering for all to see. I know I was in shock, but I also remember not getting one encouraging word from my husband, not a hug, he never even reached out to hold my hand. I know we all deal with things differently, but that really bothered me. If ever I needed a hug, that was the moment.
The next few hours were spent answering questions, so many questions, to many different people. There was one lady, whose name escapes me at the moment, that was an Angel. I'm pretty sure she was head of Psychiatry at the hospital, or maybe just the Emergency Department. She was extremely helpful in getting insurance stuff sorted out and finding a hospital that would take an adolescent, one that wasn't hours away from us. I am grateful for all of her help and understanding and her repeatedly checking in with us to let us know what was happening. I was so completely lost that I just went with whatever these doctors were telling me. I was in no way being an advocate for my son, I just did as I was told.
The first hours
I clearly remember the police officers separating my husband and myself to question us. At first I didn't understand, then I realized they wanted to be sure that neither my husband or I had anything to do with Nick going out the window. I wanted to be angry, but I also knew they were just doing their job and, much later, I was thankful for that. What if either myself or my husband DID injure our son? I would certainly want the officers to do their job to make sure this child was safe. I recall hearing the officer asking my husband if he had been drinking. At this point, it was around 7:00AM. It was apparent he had been, but, it had been several hours since his last beer.
Somehow, Nick made it into the house all on his own and dropped into a chair in the living room. The paramedics arrived and started examining him. They came to us and said he had old cuts on his arms, that this was an attempted suicide. I don't know why I didn't want to believe that in those first moments after seeing him on the ground. He was a month shy of his 14th birthday, WHY? I couldn't comprehend it. I had no inkling that he was THAT unhappy, I had not realized things were THAT bad that he wanted to end his precious life. After all, he was our oldest, our first teen, I assumed his irritability in the weeks prior were from him being a "typical teen".
We arrived at the ER shortly after the ambulance brought him in, we brought the younger two to school first. What could they do for their brother at the hospital was my thinking, and they both were OK with going to school. While we waited to be allowed in to see our son, the Principal called me. This would be the first of several encounters with this man that made me highly dislike him. I hadn't even talked to my son yet, I didn't know if he had any broken bones, I felt like I knew nothing. This Principal was asking if there was anything he could do, that they wanted to send Nick something, but they weren't sure what yet. I remember thinking he had absolutely no reason to be talking to me at this moment, about sending my son flowers or something. I just wanted to see my son and know he was OK, not listen to this man saying things I considered to be trivial. Flowers? Really? Let me see my son, get my thoughts together, and then maybe I'll talk to you, but certainly not NOW!
Somehow, Nick made it into the house all on his own and dropped into a chair in the living room. The paramedics arrived and started examining him. They came to us and said he had old cuts on his arms, that this was an attempted suicide. I don't know why I didn't want to believe that in those first moments after seeing him on the ground. He was a month shy of his 14th birthday, WHY? I couldn't comprehend it. I had no inkling that he was THAT unhappy, I had not realized things were THAT bad that he wanted to end his precious life. After all, he was our oldest, our first teen, I assumed his irritability in the weeks prior were from him being a "typical teen".
We arrived at the ER shortly after the ambulance brought him in, we brought the younger two to school first. What could they do for their brother at the hospital was my thinking, and they both were OK with going to school. While we waited to be allowed in to see our son, the Principal called me. This would be the first of several encounters with this man that made me highly dislike him. I hadn't even talked to my son yet, I didn't know if he had any broken bones, I felt like I knew nothing. This Principal was asking if there was anything he could do, that they wanted to send Nick something, but they weren't sure what yet. I remember thinking he had absolutely no reason to be talking to me at this moment, about sending my son flowers or something. I just wanted to see my son and know he was OK, not listen to this man saying things I considered to be trivial. Flowers? Really? Let me see my son, get my thoughts together, and then maybe I'll talk to you, but certainly not NOW!
Sunday, December 11, 2011
That day
I can still feel the freezing cold air on my feet. The morning of February 8, 2007 has been etched in my brain, every detail replayed what feels like a million times. I'm fairly certain it's been much less than that, since the years have past I don't think about that morning on an hourly or even daily basis like I did in the beginning.
It was a frigid morning, I didn't want to get out of bed. But, I had work and the kids had school. I got up reluctantly and started getting ready. I went to knock on my oldest son's door to be sure he was awake since he had to be at school before his brother and sister did. I could feel the cold breeze coming from under his door. I didn't think anything of it at first. After I knocked again and still didn't get a response, I cracked the door open. It was dark, the sun still hadn't risen, his bedroom window was open! In FEBRUARY! I flicked on his light, he wasn't there. I went downstairs, he wasn't there. I called his cell phone, it was ringing in his room. I don't know why, but I called it again, this time looking in his room as it rang like he was going to magically appear. I honestly, in those minutes, thought he had run away. I walked across his room and forced myself to look out his open window. There, 2 stories down lay my not yet 14 year old son on the frozen ground below.
I remember screaming for someone to call 911, that Nick had fallen or jumped out the window. I tried calling 911 from my cell phone, the call wasn't going through. I ran downstairs to call from the land line, I still couldn't get the call to go through. I ran back upstairs to try calling from my cell phone again. At this point, everyone in the house was awake. I screamed at my husband to just go to him. I was so flustered and shaking, I couldn't think, I couldn't even make a call to 911! When I finally got through, I again said he fell or jumped out the window. I don't know why I was thinking he fell out of his window, he wasn't a toddler!
The 911 dispatcher was asking me questions, questions I couldn't answer. I threw blankets out the window to my husband, I didn't know if my son was even alive, but making sure he was at least covered until the ambulance arrived seemed like the right thing to do. So many thoughts were racing through my head at once.
It was a frigid morning, I didn't want to get out of bed. But, I had work and the kids had school. I got up reluctantly and started getting ready. I went to knock on my oldest son's door to be sure he was awake since he had to be at school before his brother and sister did. I could feel the cold breeze coming from under his door. I didn't think anything of it at first. After I knocked again and still didn't get a response, I cracked the door open. It was dark, the sun still hadn't risen, his bedroom window was open! In FEBRUARY! I flicked on his light, he wasn't there. I went downstairs, he wasn't there. I called his cell phone, it was ringing in his room. I don't know why, but I called it again, this time looking in his room as it rang like he was going to magically appear. I honestly, in those minutes, thought he had run away. I walked across his room and forced myself to look out his open window. There, 2 stories down lay my not yet 14 year old son on the frozen ground below.
I remember screaming for someone to call 911, that Nick had fallen or jumped out the window. I tried calling 911 from my cell phone, the call wasn't going through. I ran downstairs to call from the land line, I still couldn't get the call to go through. I ran back upstairs to try calling from my cell phone again. At this point, everyone in the house was awake. I screamed at my husband to just go to him. I was so flustered and shaking, I couldn't think, I couldn't even make a call to 911! When I finally got through, I again said he fell or jumped out the window. I don't know why I was thinking he fell out of his window, he wasn't a toddler!
The 911 dispatcher was asking me questions, questions I couldn't answer. I threw blankets out the window to my husband, I didn't know if my son was even alive, but making sure he was at least covered until the ambulance arrived seemed like the right thing to do. So many thoughts were racing through my head at once.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)