My Personal Resiliency with a Parent with Mental Illness: A Story 

As a junior in college last may I was tasked with writing a research paper I was passionate about for a class of mine. I decided to analyze data from research studies on children with parents who are diagnosed with mood disorders. As I  formulated my ideas and turned them into sentences, and eventually wrote a non-biased analytic paper on adolescents with parents with mood disorders, I noticed something extremely interesting. The statistics I found, the resiliency factors I discussed, and struggles of day to day living was my own reality as an adolescent coping with my father’s mental illness. I found that I saw myself in the research, and was that same adolescent I described, often times scared and confused about what was happening to my father. My father was diagnosed with major depression, bipolar depression, borderline personality disorder, ADHD, and ADD. At the age of 14 I made the adult decision to cut contact and eliminate my relationship with my father due to his destructive nature. 

Often times prior to this, I was visiting my father and he was always disoriented, disheveled, and carrying around mementos such as pictures constantly in a rolling bag. My mother was extremely concerned, especially with the nature in which he kept his house. His house was in an undesirable state covered in dog poop from our dogs, papers and pictures everywhere, and an unstable and unsafe place for an adolescent to sleep and spend time at. Regardless, my mother allowed me to spend time with my father in the earlier years, because she knew the unconditional love I had for him. In the end, it came to a point where my relationship with my father was detrimental to my development, emotionally, and I had to cease communication with him. 

These detrimental experiences include themes that are mentioned in my research analysis such as, parental-child role reversals, being careful and scared not to trigger an episode, and carrying an emotional responsibility that is far beyond my years. My mother would attempt to explain my father’s manic episodes in a sense that I would be able to understand. She would explain it as a rollercoaster, starting at the bottom (his mad and upset emotions) to the top of the rollercoaster (feeling happy again.) Such experiences also included traumatic events such as him screaming at my mother because she had hired a babysitter when he was available, (my parents divorced when I was four years old and shared custody), starting a physical fight with another parent at the hockey rink in which my brother played, and I believe the worst of all to happen is a physical suicidal threat to me over the phone and email starting at the age of 16. 

During my sophomore year of high school my father won a court case forcing me to attend reunification therapy. I had not seen my father in two years at this point, and had a private session to express my fears of reunifying, my personal experiences, and questions about mental illness. At one point in time, I had questioned my genetic risk for having the same mental disorders as my father, and for quite some time had anxiety about it. I attended the first session with my father, and found that he was as always disheveled, and his conversation was never the future but rather like he always had a mirror looking back. He carried mementos piled high of happy memories, and literally cry about the past in therapy sessions. The way in which I explain the nature of my relationship at this point with my father was, “I would give an inch, and he’d take a mile.” Often times, we had boundaries and limits to communication, i.e. phone call once a week. This resulted in five phone calls, most of them being ignored by me, and brought up in therapy. 

The reason the court ordered therapist eventually concluded and agreed that I could terminate the therapy was due to a traumatic experience where he physically threatened over the phone (when I was a junior in high school) a disturbingly descriptive way in which he would commit suicide if I did not force my brother to get on the phone with him. (my brother was three years older and at an age where the courts would not force unification therapy upon him)—We developed a plan to inform my father that we were ceasing the sessions without using words such as “permanently” and after a while, I found myself again, giving him a second chance at fixing things with me. Eventually there were more and more reasons that this ongoing therapy would not work out for me and eventually canceled permanently. 

I found that through these experiences I have developed emotionally far beyond my years, and matured at a very young age. I was comforting my father in ways a child never should, trying my best to not hurt his feelings, and ultimately putting my father’s well-being in front of mine. 

Looking back on these experiences I believe that I will always love my father, but will never again be ready to initiate a relationship due his emotionally abusive nature. What my therapist has taught me is that everyone has baggage, a situation that they have to deal with every day, and no matter what it is what you do with the experiences that you have is what is important. Fast forward almost five years, and I am accomplishing things I never thought I would. Attending college, majoring in education (like my father), and most fascinatingly writing an analytical research analysis on children of parents with mental illness. I have persisted to understand mental illness, especially guided by my therapist, and despite the genetic risk I have, I will do everything in my power to ensure my own personal successful in every aspect of my life. I found that by having support, and an understanding of mental illness described through my father’s emotions and actions, I was better equipped to understanding that it is not my fault, and I am not my father. I have learned through trials of therapy that I am not the answer to his happiness and medicine to his mental illness (which most of the time he believes I am). The therapy may have failed, and I had a felt bad disconnecting once again, but I needed to put my mental health before his need for a relationship with his daughter. 

I am that same example of that resilient adolescent, thriving and succeeding in life because of the support I received from peers that I felt I could externalize my problems to, the psychoeducational background I had a luxury of because I was afforded many therapists throughout the years (art therapy in the earlier years), and support and guidance from extremely strong-willed mother. Looking back, I have been afforded knowledge through these preventive factors, and learned how to cope with my father and experiences alike, and focusing on the present I have realized my own very success over mental illness. 

My own personal experience, and passion for research has led me to advocating for peer support programs in the United States. During the entirety of my adolescence I believed I was alone, the only child experiencing this, and if there were programs in place to help kids like me, I believe we could make a huge positive impact. 

College students share their personal mental health journeys and talk about the importance and impact of COVID-19 as well as the ongoing mental health crisis on college campuses. When students speak freely about their personal stories, storytellers benefit by sharing how they are really doing with others and listeners realize they are not alone in their struggles. The program is open to the general public as well as students. Each event features a special guest. This month Gabriel Nathan will join us. Gabriel is a Board Member of Prevent Suicide PA, and the creator of “A Beautiful Day Tomorrow: Taking Suicide Awareness on the Road”.

Please visit our website for more information and to register: https://dmaxfoundation.org/dmax-students-speak/ 

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I became aware of the medical challenges in the military service as well as public service with military severely injured patients. However, I was not informed of the personal tragedies related to same dilemmas. I managed to uncover military traumas with personal investigations into the missing records. There was no concealed documents. As I demonstrated self-care measures in the critical conditions, I regain strength to convince military doctors. The medical investigations were post episodes of the critical conditions. In some case, the medical evaluations were years later. If not periods of the head traumas (closed head injuries or cerebral relating to unexplained brain abnormalities and fall events), the medical authorizations were not imposed in the 11 years of the clinical assessments at the different locations of the military component (Active Duty).

After military discharge, I consulted with private clinicians. However, the private facilities scheduled people or healthcare clinicians that were the same fields of the medical expertise which I encountered in the military service (Neurologists and Neurosurgeons). This time, the medical help resulted in the immediate answers and additional referrals to appropriate medical fields (Psychologist, Neuropsychologist, etc.).

Tragically, the scheduled appointments were not Psychologists in the primary care provider in the Veteran community. Instead, the Social Security Administrations performed Mental Health assessment or Psychological evaluation (2011). Somehow, I forgot entirely medical occurrences of the head traumas and medical consultations previously in the military service.

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This is not a post but a thank you note.

Thank you for this personal post: https://www.nami.org/personal-stories/bpd-relapse-and-recovery I am also a recovering borderline and highly functional and successful in my own right. I’m happy to hear how far along she has come and understand she also struggles. She understands what it’s like to have BPD. Currently I’m sick and on steroids causing symptoms that are taking a toll on my mental state and equally giving way to emotional issues that I’ve been consciously avoiding.

I’m currently trying to connect to myself as I’m feeling detached due to medication but reading this helped me feel heard and understood and helped to get through.

I just wanted to share i recently got a book published available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

Even though it’s fictional it’s inspired from my own personal journey.

I have bipolar disorder. I have ADHD. And i have GAD (general anxiety disorder). I was hospitalized this time last year and was there for three weeks learning about different kinds of therapy and being vulnerable. After i was released i wrote a book. And it’s officially published. It’s time for me to stop the stigma control my life and be more open.

have personal experiences with alcohol on and off for 40 years and suffered from Depression for 40 years and PTSD  for almost 30 years. I have had 3 suicide attempts and I have been homeless 6 times in my life. I’ve been Homeless 6 times in at various periods of  my life.  I been in the Psycho Wards  @WPB VA 14 Times (2009-2015), 3 Civilian Hospitals (1988,1993,2015) and 5 VA sponsored Programs. 

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Happy New Year. My name is Paris. I suffer from a mental illness, trauma , addiction and past homelessness. While I was homeless I enrolled in college to pursue my dreams of being a personal trainer. Yet my illness and being homeless and hungry I had to drop out. I was also raped and violently attacked. Yet I am no more a Victim. 2020 is about getting my power back and I am pursuing bodybuilding for women over 50. My dream is to compete with NAMI as a sponsor. Right now I’m focusing on my transformation. I attend Breakthrough Clubhouse in Wichita. They have a weight room and cardio. I hope to share my transformation with many. For I have several female bodybuilders cheering me on from all over the nation. Keep inspiring! Paris C.

I am a recovering drug addict. It seems weird to be able to open up to the public about my personal tribulations, but that is where I am now. My road here was not easy, and it was often filled with pain, confusion, and fear. However, I was able to find joy during my process.

I started out as a normal kid. I had a good mom and dad, played sports, had friends, and did most normal things any American suburbian child would do. My life, up until this point, seemed to be going in the typical route. My plans were simple: graduate high school (With moderate grades), attend a public university, get a degree for something I didn’t particularly like, meet a nice girl, and start a family.

But, like the mystery that life tends to be, things abruptly changed. When I was sixteen, I was introduced to alcohol. This introduction, as minuscule as it seemed at the time, would play a drastic role in my life and development as an alcoholic and a drug addict. I remember how the first drunk experience made me feel- loose, fearless, and content. But, because of my life trajectory, it wasn’t until college that I really understood my love for alcohol.

Skip to college, and there I was. Getting a degree in something (that I had little interest) while spending most of my time getting absolutely hammered. During my time at university, I discovered crystal meth. Crystal meth, if you are not familiar with it, is not typically a party drug in college. In fact, if you are consistently using meth, you probably ended up in a spot that wasn’t foreseen. And with people you couldn’t, in a million years, have imagined yourself spending quality time with.

Crystal meth and alcohol quickly took over my life. I was kicked out of school, homeless, and strung out. My family didn’t speak to me. I tried countless suicide attempts. I was completely lost and couldn’t see a light at the end of the tunnel. My suburban American destiny was lost!

After a few years of homelessness, meth shooting, criminal activity, and incarcerations, I decided to try to get sober. I thought I was capable of doing it alone. However, this became a seemingly impossible task. I would get a few days (sometimes weeks) of clean time, only to go back to the bottle and needle. I was in a constant cycle of promise that led to shame, relapse, and failure.

During my last bender, I was introduced to someone in a sober living. They told me they had a scholarship opportunity, and that I could qualify for it. I immediately contacted the manager at a place called “Real Deal”, got accepted, and moved in. When I was in sober living, I started working the steps, got a job, talked to my family, and started rebuilding my life.

Today, I have almost five years clean. Like I said before, it was not easy. I did not expect to become a hopeless dope fiend. But, you don’t get you a life plan when you are born. Sometimes, for whatever reason, life throws you a curve ball, and you are forced to deal with it. Nevertheless, whatever your struggles may be, with constant action, hope, and faith in goodness, you can find a solution. I certainly did.

By 2011, I had played many roles in life – court reporter, actress, stand-up comedienne and celebrity personal assistant.  But nothing I’d done had prepared me for the full-on psychotic break I had early that summer, that came on with little warning.  I was 53 years old and had no history of mental illness; I’d never even taken so much as an antidepressant or anti-anxiety medication.  Yet, in very short order I was having many horrifying delusions and hallucinations and became catatonic.

My family flew me from my home in Los Angeles back to my hometown of Cincinnati, Ohio, to get proper treatment.  Upon admission to the University of Cincinnati Hospital, I had symptoms of nine of the ten major mental illnesses, so it was impossible to properly diagnose and treat me.  Over time, I got incrementally better.  But by March 2013, all I could do was moan, groan and shuffle my feet, and I was barely functioning.  I lived in a group home, was unable to work or drive, and I knew I did not want to live out the rest of my life in this condition.

Somehow, I got myself on a plane back to LA.  I spent the night with my husband from whom I was now estranged.  The next morning, when he jumped into the shower, I jumped into his Chrysler Sebring convertible.  I put down the top and windows and headed up the 101 North freeway to Malibu.  I drove up and down Malibu Canyon Road three times before finding the perfect spot.  I backed the car up 75 feet, then slammed it into drive and went flying 250 feet over the cliff.  When my life didn’t flash in front of me like I thought it would, I knew I was going to live, and that made me furious.

As fate would have it, a man who had pulled over at the top of the overlook to make a phone call was an off-duty Malibu Sheriff’s Department paramedic.  Within minutes, medics were rappelling down the side of the canyon to come to my rescue. 

Being unsure of the extent of my injuries, I was put on a board and braced from head to toe by the first responders.  Then I was laid into a basket that was dangling from a helicopter up above.  As furious as I was that I’d lived, I surprisingly heard myself shouting, “This is soooooo exciting!” and I meant it.  Bipolar disorder at its finest – but I didn’t realize it at the time.

Up until then, my diagnosis had remained unclear.  But at UCLA Medical Center, the doctors began treating me for bipolar disorder; a diagnosis that, until then, had not ever been considered.  With the new medication protocol, I began improving almost immediately.  Miraculously, I had only broken one bone, but it was a significant one.  I had a 50% compression fracture to L2, in my lumbar spine. 

As soon as I was stable, I was flown back to Cincinnati where I spent four months in a nursing home recovering from my broken back and learning to walk again.  I decided if it wasn’t my time to die, I needed a good reason to live. So, I began asking everyone I came into contact with, “What’s your life purpose?”

My brother, Joe, is a very religious man, so I expected quite a different response than the one he provided:  My life purpose is pretty simple.  Every day, no matter where I go or who I have an interaction with – whether it’s a neighbor, my barber, or a stranger I hold the door open for at Walmart – I try to see that their day has been made a bit brighter by their interaction with me.

Now, that was a life purpose I could live with!  I quickly adopted it as my own, and for the first time since I became ill, my life finally had meaning.

By making that simple adjustment in my attitude, I began finding happiness again.  I was no longer angry that I’d survived; I was grateful.  My mental health caseworker told me about NAMI and suggested I attend a 10-week Peer to Peer class.  After hearing me tell my story, the Peer to Peer mentor suggested I train to become an In Our Own Voice presenter.  A former actress who loves an audience, I jumped at the chance and got certified.  Each time I told my story, my confidence grew.  And each time I shared my Successes, Hopes and Dreams, I realized how many of my goals I was attaining along the way, which compelled me to always set bigger goals.

My NAMI affiliate’s confidence in me has been life-changing.  At NAMI Southwest Ohio’s suggestion, I also became a Peer to Peer mentor, a Connection facilitator, and a nationally certified state trainer for In Our Own Voice.  I feel so supported by NAMI.  I’m proud to be a person living successfully with illness and I’ll be forever grateful to NAMI – its programs, workers and other volunteers – for helping me get here. 

I was working as a social worker 13 years ago when I had a mental breakdown. I lost my mental health, physical health, home, some of my friends, and money. The confident, self-assured woman was replaced by a very frightened, hurt, wounded person.

Over the years, I have had various levels of ups and downs. In 2006 at a low point, I started coming to Ellis Continuing Day Treatment (CDT). I found the support I needed in therapy and groups. I slowly made progress and got very comfortable and safe in the counter culture of mental illness. I REALLY wanted to feel better, but knew that I was not well and could not see the path to recovery. I saw people who were coping better than me and could not see how they were doing it and not me. There was something missing. I couldn’t see past my reality of getting through the day to day.

Two years ago, Personal Recovery Oriented Services (PROS) replaced CDT. My therapist and I worked together evaluating my past experiences, where I had problems when I was working, what strengths I thought I had, my dreams for my life, and broke it down into small goals.

I took groups that would help me achieve these goals: how to cope with symptoms and look to a life outside of PROS. I had some setbacks last year, but have worked hard to find recovery. Everyone has a different opinion as to what recovery means to them. Recovery is my process of reclaiming my life, using a routine and coping skills to navigate my symptoms, having a good support system, and piecing together a more meaningful life with balance.

In my path to recovery, I have become involved in Schenectady PEER, which stands for People Empowered Experiencing Recovery. The group is free standing, not affiliated with any hospital or treatment center. We are an advisory board that is run by those who know the most about our needs: Peers.