My brother, Mark. was diagnosed w/schizophenia @ age 28. We’ve gone through a living hell ever since. He’s now 51. You name it, we’ve been there. Hospitals, jails, prisons, group homes, assisted living homes, our own homes, witnessing, reporting neglect/abuse. Our family has been there. I wouldn’t wish it on my own worst enemy. Oh and GUILT! That’s a big one that each of us have struggled with. I hate the disease but love the victim. He’s my brother, my parent’s son. He’s a Father with a son. We’ve found that through it all that those who are least likely to understand are his friends, church and family. Looks like it’s here to stay. It’s a never ending cycle. You may ask, who is this guy? Well he was a first to be beautiful and only baby son. He was a great kid. A joy. Playful. Intelligent. Handsome. He went to school..never failed a grade. He went to college. He got a great job, married, had a family. It all started going downhill in his mid to mid 20’s. I went into mental health. I quit jobs in order to take less paying jobs just to be near him. I spent my social life and enormous part of my life just devoted to him. I’m 57 now. Who’ll see that he’s taken care of when I, his sister is gone? Who’ll do it when our parents are gone? I gave him over to God a long time ago and his abusers will, if they haven’t already, reap what they have sown. Family members have to be their voice for they will never be heard or ever taken seriously…

As a young child, I remember many instances when I was simply told that my mom was sick and in the hospital. I assumed she would be ok. I never knew the reasons why. I remember many days of being told by my stepfather: “Please don’t bother mama as she is tired and sleeping.” She stayed in bed, door closed, curtains closed and sound “asleep”.

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It’s a daily struggle especially when family doesn’t have any educated input. NAMI has family support groups to help them understand a loved one’s illness and how they fight to stay stable daily. I go through weekly therapy and take medications like Geodon and Klonopin to stay well. Bipolar is a difficult illness to have especially without educated family or friends. You must always listen to your doctors and maintain your med intake even when you may get paranoid and believe you don’t need them, listen to your docs. With their help, I’m hoping to one day be able to hold down a full-time job again.

I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder and Borderline Personality Disorder when I was 12, but I had had problems with depression, manic episodes since I was 3. I had a hard time growing up, my father didn’t except my situation and just thought I was a bad kid, I was abused until I was 17 by him. My mother tried to help me, but at the time, she didn’t know how. I was put in hospitals frequently. I had three stays over nine months long each, and many shorter stays as well.

I was in a state hospital for a year straight. Most of my childhood was spent in mental institutions, and as an adult, I have been twice. When I was not in them, I was home, getting into major trouble. I remember being violent towards others, mostly family that was only trying to help. I was constantly in trouble at school, got suspended 8 times in two years, and expelled for half a semester.

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How do you live when you can’t trust your mind to be there when you need it?

That’s the question I’ve been struggling with for 51 years. I’ve had severe major depression all my life, and during my late high school and college years I had psychosis as well. Instead of attending a college and living in dorms, I checked into psych hospitals and sought treatment. My parents’ college fund and all surplus money I made as a young adult were spent on treatment. It was a good investment — I don’t think I would have survived otherwise.

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I had the pleasure of taking a NAMI Family-to-Family course that felt like a college course. Not because it was difficult or boring but because it obtained so much structure and information. I learned about depression, schizophrenia and bipolar disorders to name a few illnesses. I also learned about many more and had the chance to meet beautiful people that were attempting to recover, reaching for hope and looking for help. I never felt judged. I enjoyed fresh food during our classes, had great speakers that sang, and was overwhelmed by the sense of community. The stigma did not reach through the doors. I became stronger as a parent and mother.

I hate mental illness. It has robbed me of the man I love. As he goes through active mania, depression, anxiety, suicide, or drug addiction, I can only watch and sit in pain, silently. I hurt!!!! I hurt because he becomes consumed with trying to find silence in his head. He seeks comfort from outside of himself, which is nothing but destruction.

I just recently found the family meetings and the family to family 12 week class. I went to my first group meeting last night. It was so wonderful to listen to others talk my story. I was able to talk my story and they got it, no judgment. I wish this would have been something available a long time ago. Maybe things could have been different for us. I would of been better educated on the illness. I would of learned the difference and how to love HIM and help the disease without judgment, control or anger.

See we have been married 21 years, we have been inseparable for 23 years. He left 8 months ago on a whim. I was used to that because he would just come up missing for weeks and not know where he had been. I would get a call from an institution or police department to come and take care of the situation. He always came back home. I miss my best friend, my lover, partner, father of our children. We still see each other and talk. But he is cycling again and pushing me away, harder than he ever has before. He says he doesn’t want to hurt me anymore, but it still does.

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“This is the last straw,’ I thought, rushing toward my car. Ten years of chronic run-ins between my relative and law enforcement completely frayed my nerves. Now, the VA refused admittance to their psych unit, even though delusional thinking patterns were obvious. Returning to northern Alabama from Nashville, my relative jumped from the vehicle. Five days in ICU and five weeks in a recovery unit finally warranted a stay in the VA unit.

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Our NAMI Western MA class will be wearing green ribbons to mark Mental Health Awareness Week!

Last night NAMI-WM celebrated over 30 years of mission accomplished by providing  education, support and advocacy! Hundreds of VIPS attended the celebration of everyone’s accomplishments, as VIPS!

The Iris Project is out and about providing outreach as we work to help support our mission with a small donation in return for a silk iris. The Iris is a symbol of hope and recovery!

In Our Own Voice will be presenting to our Family to Family Class soon!

Stay Strong!

Ella S.

www.namiwm.org

co-teacher for Family to Family

And I knew I wasn’t right 

So I planned on going that Friday night 

And I knew I wasn’t okay

Making it the perfect place for me to stay 

See, for most, a mental hospital isn’t a choice 

It’s one of those things where you are left without a voice 

Brought there suddenly against your will

Then before you know it, you are given a bunch of random pills 

But for me, it was where I was supposed to be

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