My life is nuts and I love it just that way!
My writing is directly from the heart. If I feel it, if I think it, I write it....
The good, the bad and the ugly.
For the most part - Life is GOOD. Soak up every second!!
Live, Love, Laugh.... Spin around until you get dizzy and fall down - then get up an do it again!
Brittany Maynard, the 29 year old young woman with terminally ill brain cancer, ended her own life on Saturday, November 1st, 2014.
Her choice. Her terms. Her death with dignity.
There are so many sides of this coin that I'm not even sure where I fall anymore.
No matter what I say, no matter how I feel, someone will disagree with me. I don't care.
I've been someone who advocates AGAINST suicide. I don't believe in suicide for any reason.
Yes, I know this was different - but is it?
For YEARS I struggled with the suicides of my father and my brother. Being raised Catholic, I was taught that suicide meant that you gave up on your faith in God, and you were going to spend eternity in hell. For me, that shook me on more levels than I care to admit. It's one of the things that shredded me for years, and eventually took me away from the Catholic church. Well, that and other reasons...
On the Christian, Biblical level - I believe God forgives. I believe that in the 11th hour even the biggest sinner can be forgiven and go to Heaven.
But that is not what this post is about.
This post is about the suicide itself. Is it really OK to choose to die?
Yes, it is her "right" to die with dignity. Yes, she wanted to die before her body gave in to all of the awfulness that lay ahead with the severe diagnosis she was presented. Yes, it was a really awful future for her and her family, from what she was told. But WHAT IF what she was told was wrong?
This situation makes me think of my brave friends who've fought cancer. My beautiful, wonderful friends who bravely took cancer on and beat it! I think about those still struggling to fighting it - because they want to be here. For what ever reason, they WANT to be here. They WANT to live. They WANT to fight it to stay alive. They do / did not WANT to die! I remain in awe of them.
Brittany chose to die, and I don't understand that.
Was it bravery? Was it fear? What if she was wrong? What if there was more? What if the doctors were wrong? What if, just what if 3 days from now - they find the defining element that will cure her - save her from the awful that she's faced. What if? What if? What if?
That is what I struggle with. The what if.
Being a suicide survivor, this would never have been my choice. I would have fought, if not for myself - for my children, for my husband, for my friends - FOR ME. I would have fought to live. I would have soaked up every single second, the good, the bad and the ugly. THAT would be my choice.
I genuinely believe we all have a plan for our lives. Whether or not you believe in God or a higher power - most people DO believe there is a plan for their life. What if her plan was NOT to die, but to live? Maybe even to live and be an example of greatness in some way.
That chance is gone forever.
So many people fight daily to be alive, to live every single second.
I am truly sorry Mrs. Maynard has left this planet. I don't condemn her choice. It was, her choice.
I wish her and her family much peace.
I know how it feels to be left behind with the questions and no answers.
I know that somewhere in their hearts they wish she were still there - even with the awful cancer that was consuming her.
You may agree with me. You may disagree with me. That's OK.
You'll think about this, and when you do - think about what choice you'd make. Think about why you'd make that choice and then wonder...
I know this post may not going to be popular with some folks. I know it may be controversial. I know that people who know more than I do about this are going to be pissed off. I know people who have had great experiences with meds are going to think I'm a jerk for saying my piece - but I'm going there....
I'm going there for those of you who are NOT having a good experience with the meds.
My son recently sent me an article regarding gun control, mass murder (ie: Columbine & Sandy Hook) and the one thing that all of the individuals, mostly children, had in common is that the were taking psychotropic medications. If you don't know what that terminology refers to, it's the term for medications used to treat ADHD, depression, etc.
(This posting will make much more sense if you read the article)
Before I continue with this post, I have absolutely NO intention in getting into a gun control debate. Even though that IS what the headline of the article is, that is NOT at all what this post is about.
This post is about the medications that lead children to do unspeakable things. Whether we know it or not.
I am NOT a medical professional. I am not well studied on drugs and their effects, benefits/side effects, etc. I'm just a mom who once had a child diagnosed with A.D.H.D and childhood depression. I am a mom who trusted and allowed the medical community to treat my child with psychotropic drugs. I can only speak of what I know from what we lived.
I can honestly say - I didn't know any better.
I was a young mom. I knew my child was having severe behavioral and learning issues in school. I did all I knew how to. I took my child to doctors, upon doctors, upon doctors. I believed that they would know how to help my child. I was desperate. I allowed doctors to prescribe medications to "help" my child.
Although the medicine helped during school - grades got better, behavior got better, my child went through changes. Changes I didn't understand. I witnessed uncontrollable behavior and rages, but this was mostly when my child was "coming down" off of the medicine. I was warned of this in advance, so I thought nothing of it. They told me that would happen. I expected it. I did what I could to calm my child during those times. To help as best as I could, not really knowing what to do.
This parent thing - it doesn't come with a handbook. Sometimes you need to trust the medical professionals and the people in the schools, who see your child more in the day than you do, to properly assess what's going on.
Truth - it was traumatic. The melt downs, coming off of the medicine, were AWFUL. Awful to the point that other people were injured. Awful to the point that I didn't know what was happening to my child or know what to do to help. I saw a shell of who my child used to be. I cried more tears than I could count. My heart breaks now thinking of it. It was a bad time. Many things unfolded during those days, things I won't put out into this blog, but things I'm thankful are long behind us.
My child ended up being smarter than me and made the decision to stop taking the medication - said they didn't like the way it made them feel. That it made them feel different, not themselves. That all fit perfectly with what I saw. They were NOT themselves taking this medication. Stupidly, I did not agree with going off of the medicine - because what did I know?? I didn't feel smarter than the doctor that said my child needed this medication.
I didn't question the meds. I watched the meds take my baby away from me on so many levels, but I didn't question the meds. I should have questioned the meds. Shoulda, woulda, coulda. Didn't. I wish I had. I wish I'd been smarter. I wish I'd known then what I know now. I can honestly say that I do NOT believe my child had an issue that needed to be treated with medicine. Was my child active? Absolutely. Was my child defiant at times? Of course, what child isn't? Did my child have issues? Yes, there was so much going on our lives it was hard not to have issues. Do I think my child needed medicine? Now, looking back - NO!
I didn't know any better. I didn't question the doctors or the medicine, and I regret that.
I am fortunate that my child has overcome. But what about those children still struggling. What about your child - who may have once been a kind hearted, loving soul - who is now trying to kick the ever living crap out of you for shutting off their favorite TV show? Have you questioned the not normal? I did not. I should have.
My plea to you, parent with a child who may be on psychotropic medications...
QUESTION THE MEDS! PLEASE!
It's really hard to be a parent. Especially the parent of a child with any special needs at all. We don't "just know" what to do. Not everyone had a positive parental influence growing up, or a positive parental role model to guide them with their own children.
If your child is not acting right on the meds, question the meds! Trust your instincts. Don't have regrets. That's your baby.
Thank you for reading my blog!
As an aside...
I often post about the suicides of my brother and my father.
At the time of his death, my brother was taking psychotropic medications. One of the warnings / side effects of anti-depressants, etc. is "may experience increased risk of suicidal thoughts or behavior". At the time of my brother's death. He was not in a depressive state. He was happy. He had met and was engaged to a beautiful young woman. He had a great job. Just redid his house. Had a huge party - and then took his life. Question the medicine! Always question the medicine.
I do not suffer from depression. I was prescribed an anti-anxiety / anti-depressant medication as a way to treat my Lupus. It was a preventative measure to keep my stress level down so I didn't go into a flare. This medication made me a cartoon character of myself. Someone I once cared about will probably never speak to me again due to my actions / behaviors while on this medication. I was NOT me. Once I recognized that, I chose to get off the medication and stay off. It took me over a year to be completely "normal" (my normal) and behave properly. Question the medicine! Always question the medicine.
I've been pretty selective about the things I write in THIS blog, mostly because this is where many of my "critics" come to see what I've got to say "this time."
A part of me is sorry that people have come to view me that way, because that's not the person I am - but it's the person that I've become to a select few.
This used to bother me - about a year ago.
Today, I see it as a blessing in disguise.
Today, I am at perfect peace with every part of that situation.
Let me rewind a bit to seven years, 1 month, 2 weeks and 5 days ago - the day that my brother died.
That day ROCKED MY WORLD and changed every single part of me in ways that I can't even begin to explain - not for the better, I assure you. The faith that I had become renewed in, was shaken. The comfortable trust that I'd learned, had been shattered and the walls I'd once taken down were back up higher than ever. On top of it all, my teenager was making life incredibly difficult for all of us and putting a huge strain on my marriage. I was a shell of my former self. I was a sad, nervous, emotional wreck. I began to not care about the things I did, how I acted or how people viewed me.
Enter new friend.
Although I was never opposed to making new friends, I am not a "good in groups" kinda gal. I never really traveled in one circle of friends. All of my friends are from different circles, mostly knowing each other in passing - but not really hanging out with each other. That was all OK with me. This friend was extra kind to me. She took me in as a friend, sheltered me and made me feel comfortable during a really difficult time in my life. As our friendship grew, I began to trust and develop a closeness to her. I continue to be grateful for that caring and concern at a time when I really needed it. Through her I met other people and began to "hang out" in a group of friends. I enjoyed this. We all had a lot of fun together. We were together more often than not as all of the children were all doing the same activities together. It was nice. Until it stopped being nice. When it stopped being nice, it got very not nice. It didn't start with this particular friend - but the loss of this friendship as a result another as well as the trickle down that occurred, hurt me. The others walking away didn't bother me. The thought that this friend, who I set apart from the rest, would so easily take things at face value, and forget our foundation hurt me. She hurt me. There was no truth that could be told. Her mind was made up. Even if she didn't say so. That made me sad for a long time. I learned that she was one of the 25% - someone who liked me, but could be persuaded not to.
If that other human, the catalyst, is reading this it's fine if you want to gloat.
You opened my eyes and I am now at perfect peace with the entire situation. Thank you.
I have forgiven the situation and I have no regrets. Only blessings.
This past Sunday, while switching channels I came upon Joel Olsteen. I don't normally watch the television preachers, but if I do it would be Joel Olsteen or TD Jakes. They have a way of speaking that catches me and holds my attention.
In this particular sermon, Joel Olsteen spoke of an "emotional well" that that God gives us all that is full of love, hope, happiness and goodness, and how we should protect this well.
He further went on to say that -
In our lives 25% of the people we are surrounded by don't like us and
will never like us no matter what. 25% of the people don't like us, but can be
persuaded to like us. 25% of the people like us but can be persuaded to
not like us, and finally 25% of the people will like us unconditionally.
Knowing that, we should build a wall around our "well" to protect us
from anyone (the 75%) looking to "throw rocks" into and clog
our well from receiving the happiness and joy and goodness.
Every time someone throws a rock into our well, they are
blocking us from the goodness and the happiness & the hope and the LOVE. How true that is.
If it's too much work - if it's too hard - if you have to
change yourself to fit into someone else's perfect little mold... It's not the
relationship for you. Those who love you will love all of you for who
This blog may seem as if it's a stone being thrown into another's well, but it's quite the opposite actually. I have forgiven that situation and all involved in it. I wish them peace.
The purpose of this blog was to help another, and I hope that I have.
I am INCREDIBLY thankful for my blessings in disguise.
My well is clear. My wall of protection is UP. I am thankful. The only people allowed in my life are those who want to be here. Those who like / love me without having to be convinced.