Ride On

Bipolar Disorder: An interview. It's something I have been wanting to do for a long time and Jayse not only surprisingly agreed but was eager to share his story. Our goal continues to be to break down the stigma of mental health and to get people talking about some of the less desirable topics like suicide and grief. The conversation was difficult in spots but I appreciated his openness and honesty and I think I was able to authentically capture what he was trying to convey.

 Q: Tell me about your childhood and the first memory you have of experiencing bipolar symptoms

     I was an Army brat. We moved every two years until I was fourteen and my dad retired and we settled in Saskatchewan. I had reoccurring nightmares for as long as I can remember about these long stretchy stick figures walking through doors towards me. The rooms kept getting longer and the doors would zoom by. I would wake up in cold sweats, they were almost like hallucinations. I had a stutter and I would fixate on words. When I was around twelve years old I was out riding bikes with my friend when out of the blue I wanted to hurt him for no reason so I just wound up and hit him. I think that's the hardest thing for people to understand. You just get these unexplainable urges. My parents didn't understand, the kids parents didn't get it and I couldn't explain it to them. Back then they didn't try to figure it out.

Q: Lets talk about your diagnosis 

       My diagnosis is Bipolar Schizoaffective Disorder, ADHD, Agoraphobia and Generalized Anxiety.  It's almost like there are two of me. Like you know those monsters with two heads that are constantly arguing? It's like that but one of them is not nice. I call him Hyde. He mostly shows up during manic and depressive episodes and he points out all the bad things to get me down. He tells me I'm worthless and that things would be better if I wasn't here and it just makes any insecurities that much worse. Going manic is like when he takes control and he gets the reins and he's going to do what he wants and he doesn't give a fuck. He does stuff that I would never do and I know that sounds like some asshole reason to be a douche bag but it's like being in the back seat of a car, you know where you're going but you're not driving. I know some of the things I'm doing are wrong but I just don't care at the time and it bugs me that I don't care and I feel guilty about it later. And the medications don't always help, I've had quite a few of what the doctor calls "dissident episodes". I call them "What The Fucks". There are also physical symptoms like insomnia; my record for days without sleep is ten. I see things like mice, spiders, birds and sometimes people that aren't there. But by far the worst symptom is the back convulsions. The worse the episode is the worse they get. It affects my speech and it's terrible and it's like the stutter I had when I was a kid. If you didn't know what it was you might think I have Parkinson's Disease, I have a constant need to move. The only positive about it is that it's a good clue that I'm going into a manic episode.     

    The other diagnoses are pretty easy to manage in comparison. I always have Ativan with me and I know what my limits are. Something that's starting to bug me is the Tardive Dyskinesia that is a lasting side effect from a medication called Latuda. It's a facial tick that makes my mouth move and it looks like I'm talking to somebody. Currently there are no treatments offered for it in Canada but hopefully there will be something approved here soon.

Q: How has bipolar disorder impacted your life?

     I mean I made a lot of bad choices. I didn't go to high school really at all and when I was there, there wasn't a lot of learning being done. I was self medicating with drugs, whatever pills I could get my hands on and I drank heavily and that lasted well into my twenties. People have told me that three days was all they could do with me before I was medicated because back then I tended to lean more towards the manic side. I was a good Dad but the bad choices I was making impacted the amount of time I was able to see my daughter when she was little. Post-diagnosis I will never be 100% independent. I will always need help recognizing and managing symptoms and I'll always be under the care of a Psychiatrist. 

Q: Besides medication what helps you deal with all of this?

    Exercise is a big one. Playing my guitar and listening to music. Having a supportive spouse, it would be a lot shittier if I was doing it alone. And my "therapy cat" Bugz. 

Q: How has McKynleys suicide impacted your mental health and how has it changed your own views on suicide?

   Things just hit me different now. There is always sadness right under the surface and I cry more easily and over stupid things. Other peoples sadness tends to affect me more and I just can't listen to certain songs. I don't know, I try not to think about it. I mean there are thousands of suicides everyday that you don't hear about and the ones you do hear about are often people who have diagnosed metal illness. Look at Chris Cornell and Robin Williams. I don't want to put anyone through that but when "Hyde" comes out  in the dark times that is his number one priority and I have to fight with him. I can't speak for anyone else but that's how it is for me and it's hard. 

Q: What would you say to someone newly diagnosed with Bipolar disorder?

    Work with your doctor to get a medication plan and a treatment plan and stick to it. That's the most important thing. Take care of yourself, make sure you get the proper amount of sleep. Exercise. It doesn't have to be going to the gym, go for walks. Get up and walk around your house if that's all you can do but you have to get the serotonin going. Talk. Find someone you can confide in and tell them how you are feeling. Talking helps you realize that you are not going through it alone. Try programs and support groups. They might not be for you but there are plenty of good supports out there. Don't be ashamed, you can't change it. 

Q: Any final thoughts?

     Don't let your diagnosis define you. My life is pretty normal most of the time and I work and do the things that I love. The "What The Fucks" happen but you deal with them and you move on. Don't get caught up in the "What If's" that will drive you crazy.  You have to find the positives and take the rest as it comes. 

Love and Laughter, 

Jen and Jayse

Fiddlers Green

Grief. It feels like a dirty word that sticks in the back of your throat when you say it. I have been thinking a lot about our grief journey recently. If you would have told me in the days after McKinley's passing that we would be where we are today, with two happy and healthy kids about to go to college and a strong marriage I wouldn't have believed you. Those first days just felt so impossible. 

One thing I get told a lot is that losing a child is the worst thing that someone can go through but grief isn't a competition. There is no worse or better grief. I would argue that a tragic loss, like suicide, is a bigger shock than a death that is expected and it may take longer to process and accept but a loss is still a loss expected or not. We need to stop telling ourselves that others have it worse and this was only my sibling or friend or parent and I'll be fine. Instead we need to say "I'm not ok" and "I need time to grieve this person I love". We need to give ourselves grace and ask others to do the same, the grieving process takes time and it is different for everyone. We have made it to this point with the love and support of our friends and family and by supporting each other. The four of us have a special bond after navigating this storm. We have shared tears and laughter and awkward moments and we are the only people that truly understand what it's like for the others. We have lived it together. We also have our three furry therapists to thank. We have cried on them and and held them tight in the bad times and they have kept us entertained with their shenanigans and been the light on the darkest of days. 

Grief changes as time goes on and we have learned to live our life without McKynley. The overwhelming sadness of those first days has eased. We have celebrated many holidays and birthdays without her now and while there are still sad moments our memories get us through. Her death has made us realize how short and precious our time is on this earth. We are coming up on the fifth year of McKynleys death this fall. She missed out on so much life and I always wonder what greatness she would have brought to this world. We thought of her when the girls picked out their grad dresses knowing she would have hated the princess styles and would have gone for something a little more edgy and red. She probably would have gone to college for something to do with animals or something in the art field like Lexie is taking. She may have even played college soccer. We will spend a lifetime wondering what could have been as we go trough all of these milestones with Alexis and Kennedy but we don't let that sadness take away from these moments. 

Grief Land is an ok place to visit now and then but you can't live there. 

Love and Laughter, 

~Jen ~

How To Save a Life

"I'm OK"

"Well I'm not" 

    I cried in the doctor's office on Friday. My poor doctor, I really did feel bad for him. Jayse had an appointment in the morning to discuss treatment options for his knee pain since the oxy is no longer an option and of course I went with him. I was fine during his appointment but a few hours later at my own appointment, alone, I cried. I'm not as strong as I was before McKynley died or maybe it's that I realize how fragile and short life is now. Either way I feel like I am not holding it together like I did before. 

    Just over two weeks ago I was on the way home from dropping Kennedy off at cheer when Jayse called me. I knew immediately by the sound of his voice that something was wrong and I was a solid 25 minutes away from home. I started talking to him to see exactly where his brain was at but I wasn't speaking to my husband, it was that other guy that shows up during manic episodes. Psychosis is absolutely terrifying because it's unpredictable, the lights are on but nobody is home. At least nobody that can process a rational thought. My parents live about 6 minutes away and they could have come to the house but I didn't want to hang up with Jayse to call them. So for 25 minutes I kept him talking, walking him step by step through making supper, adding extra steps to make it last until I got home. I panicked when he didn't respond immediately to my questions even though I know mania affects his speech and he sometimes can't get the words out. My 25 minute drive turned into a 35 minute drive when I was stopped by a train but amazingly I managed to hold my shit together. When I finally came in the door he was there at the stove and then he was in my arms sobbing. I don't know if seeing me snapped him out of it or if it just ran its course but the psychotic episode was over. 

    Jayse is well on his way to being fully recovered from all of this and after an assessment with a doctor that specializes in Mental Health and Addictions he has been referred to Psychiatrist. A lot of interesting things came out during the assessment that would be worth sharing in another blog sometime if anyone is interested. Our family doctor was given the green light to prescribe him a medication for pain that we know works well with his other meds and he is being watched closely by both the doctor and myself.  Jayse says he's ok but I'm not ok. The doctor says I have Adjustment Disorder which is a bit like post traumatic stress but cause by a stressor not a trauma. Not surprising given our history.  He's increased my anti-anxiety medication and recommended I see a therapist and stay off work until the New Year. That comes with it's own anxiety but it wouldn't be fair to anyone for me to go back in this frame of mind. I'm hopeful the increase in meds will get me back sooner, I do enjoy working and getting out of the house everyday has its benefits. 

   The one big change I have noticed since the last time we went through this is the increased support for the caregiver. The nurses at the hospital were so great and understanding with me, giving me regular updates since Covid didn't allow me to be with him there. My doctor saw I was a wreck and asked what he could do to help. And even though I've always had an amazing support system and my Dad constantly reminds me I don't have to do things alone it was nice to know if I did have to do it alone there is a little more support out there now.  

    I'm not feeling super chatty about all of this but I know lots of you were wondering how things are going and I appreciate that SO much so I wanted to give you a quick update. We are still here fighting and winning this battle together. 

Love and Laughter, 

Jen 

The Sound of Scilence

I haven't touched a computer in nearly three  months. One day I was full of words and stories and the next it was gone. I have sat down and typed out a few sentences here and there on my phone, I've had many ideas of things to write about but I haven't been able to get passed the opening sentence. Maybe it was writers block or grief or depression. Maybe I had unreasonable expectations for myself. The past months have been both a mental and emotional challenge for me but as always I have come through it and here I sit ready to start sharing again.

I want to tell everyone about our amazing Christmas holiday, about Kennedy getting ready to go off to high school, the girls upcoming cheer competitions and so much more that is going on in our lives but there is something ever present that I feel needs to be shared.

Suicide

My first experience with suicide was in 8th grade. A classmate a year above me had taken her life. I didn't know her but for the photo they had posted in the hall of the school after her death. Me, being the naïve 14 year old I was at the time agreed in anger with my bitchy girlfriends that the idea of having the yearbook dedicated to her was unfathomable. Us with our high waist jeans and baby doll t-shirts could not find an ounce of sympathy for this poor girl. In our eyes it was her decision and she should not be rewarded for it. Fast forward a few years to tenth grade and there I was sitting on the floor of the high school band room with my arms around my friend while she cried bitterly because her Dad had done the unthinkable. Her teary mascara streaks ran down my arm and in that moment I realized how important that yearbook tribute was. Tributes are not for those gone but for those left behind. And here I am twenty years later wiping my husbands tears away and my daughters, all of them struggling, all of us struggling to go on. I think back to the yearbook girl and wonder how her family got through it and if they hold that yearbook close. Snapshots of those final fleeting days of normalcy before the storm of life set their sails into dark waters.

It's been my theme since this blog came about in the early days of my own families tragedy and I can't escape it. I seem to hear about daily and since McKynley's suicide three more people close to me have suffered the same tragic loss. I wonder now if this is the journey in life I am supposed to be on. Sharing my stories and speaking wise words of experience to those suffering the most unimaginable grief, when you have no answers and are made to feel ashamed you didn't do more to stop it. For now I will try to keep on writing and hoping that these humble words help just one person realize they are not alone. That there is joy and purpose in life after the darkness fades. 

Love and Laughter, 

Jen 

"Fight Song"

I have a wicked case of writers block. I've sat at my laptop several times and tried to bang something out and I get halfway done and then nothing. It has been incredibly frustrating for me but a recent conversation with a cheer mom friend put my mind at ease. "You'll go back to it when you're ready" she said and she's right. I had to really think about what was holding me back from writing and I realized that I have been putting too much pressure on myself to be positive. That applies to my life as well and this week has shown me exactly what can happen when you force yourself to a place you are not ready for.

I've known a breakdown was coming since before Halloween. I was feeling really worn out and was having a hard time focusing on anything. My patience were running very thin both at work and at home. Simple tasks like loading the dishwasher or even picking out my clothes were leaving me in tears. It sounds silly but when you are in such a fragile mental state the most normal activities can be incredibly overwhelming. Last weekend was the one Saturday all year that I have to work and it couldn't have come at a worse time. I needed to be there because it was a project I had been working on for months and I wanted to see it through to the end so I put my bravest face on and tried my hardest to get through. Fake it till you make it right?! Well it was tough but I managed, Saturday afternoon was a lot of hiding my tears, thankfully I have a great group of coworkers that kept me distracted.

Monday I went to work in the morning and had an appointment with my doctor in the afternoon. I was tearing up all the time and I was exhausted. I think at that point I was maybe getting three hours of sleep a night, constantly waking up to check on the girls or waking from nightmares about that fateful phone call. I'd wake up thrashing and covered in sweat and then be afraid to go back to sleep. The doctor had me fill out a questionnaire about my mental health and I scored very high for depression. I have suffered bouts of depression in the past but this time it feels different. It is an all consuming sadness that I can't pull myself out of. The doctor told me to take the rest of the week off and get some rest and I cried when I brought my note in to work. I felt like such a disappointment to everyone.

I started some medication for depression and anxiety on Monday as well and I was feeling a little more settled at bedtime. I had to sit the girls down and talk to both of them about what was keeping me awake. It was hard for me to tell them that I now live in constant fear that one of them is going to take their own life. It was like ripping a Band-Aid off a fresh wound and there were lots of tears shed that night. I think it will be something I always worry about now, the trick is not to let it consume me and it's going to be a long road to get there. The girls have similar fears to my own, they realize just how unpredictable life is. All I can do is tell them they can't live their life worrying that someone you love is going to die and then try to take my own advice.

Tuesday was an exciting day for Jason and I. We have been exploring the idea of expanding our family for about eighteen months or so and finally decided to see a fertility specialist. So we got up early and drove to Saskatoon to see her and then had lunch at one of our favorite spots before making the drive back. The phone call for the appointment came on the one month anniversary of McKynleys passing and that reassured me that we were making the right decision by moving forward. I had a serious conversation with Sarah about how this would affect our family dynamic and was comforted to know that her and Todd would be excited to welcome a new little one into our mix and both Alexis and Kennedy are excited at the prospect of a baby brother or sister.  We don't know if it will happen yet, we both have to have some extensive testing done to make sure we can physically do it and then see if it is even financially feasible for us before anything is set in stone. I joked we might have to have a few steak nights and my Mom said that they do it for boob jobs so why not a baby!­­ It's probably something that we should have done years ago but now that Jason is officially stable (his doctor told us the good news a few weeks back) it feels like the right time.

Tuesday night my world came crashing down. Jason and I had an argument about a punishment for Alexis I didn't agree with and that lead to me spinning out of control. I picked a fight with him and then took off in my car for an hour without my phone before coming home and completely falling apart. I think I cried and raged for a solid three hours curled up in a ball in the middle of the bed like a child. I spent a good while on the phone with Cindy that night and then fell asleep in Jason's arms still a little weepy but wrung out. Women always put their families needs ahead of their own and that's what I have done for that last few weeks but it was finally time for me to deal with the fact that McKynley is dead and there is nothing I can do to fix it. It was actually Sarah that said it was going to hit me eventually because I didn't listen when everyone told me to take care of myself and when it did she was there to help pick up the pieces. Someday I will find a way to repay the people that have stood by me through all of this, I'd be lost without them.

I'm starting to feel more like myself and I hope the blog posts continue to come as easily as this one did. I found out that I am not the only writer in the family. Kennedy has been journaling her journey through this experience as well and I hope that she will agree to let me share some of her thoughts with you. Leave a comment if that's something you'd be interested in reading and I will try to convince her.

Love and Laughter,
Jen

"To Where You Are"

After this post I'd like to switch gears a little. There are so many positive happy things that I can share along with the more serious topics and it's time to shift focus for a while. Before I do that I'd like to share the beautiful poem that Cindy wrote for us and read at McKynley's balloon release on Saturday. She also gave us a Harley Quinn bank to keep our dimes in (read "Losing my Religion" to find out about our dimes) and it has a place of honour on her shelf. If you don't know, Harley Quinn was one of Micks favorites, she even wanted her Uncle Jamie to tattoo blue and red diamond patterned cuffs on her when she was old enough. I also want to share with you the message for McKynley and Jason that I wrote and read at the balloon release. Saying it aloud was as therapeutic for me as writing it and made me think I might have to take this blog on a speaking tour one day. Hey, A girl can dream right?

It was a blustery Saskatchewan day on Saturday and Lexie and I struggled with the balloons, eight red and eight black, as soon as we left the store. We had a giggle about them pummeling me in the face and trying to stuff them in the back of my car and agreed McKynley would have been laughing her butt off. That speaks to where we are right now, her name is always on the tip of our tongues but it's not always because we're sad. We want to share the memories with each other so we don't ever forget them. By the time we got to the park the wind had the balloons in a tangled mess so Jason let the whole bunch go together and we stood and watched it until they disappeared into the heavens. We needed a tradition, something to mark the birthdays and anniversaries, and balloons will be it. Always sixteen, eight red and eight black, sent up to the stars.

"I met McKynley when she was six years old. A tiny little thing with blonde hair and glasses just like her Daddy's I remember her sitting on Jason's lap in the front seat of his PT Cruiser bursting with energy and I wondered how such a loud voice could come out of such a tiny human .

Greif is the price of love and we are paying dearly. Sixteen years of memories are not enough to sustain us in the many years ahead. The pain of a short life cuts deep and the wound will never really heal. but we will hold tight to those memories we do have and  daydream about the ones we should have been given. We will see McKynley in our daily lives and smile and remember.

I will see her every time I see Kennedy do a silly dance because lets be honest the girl had some moves! I'll see her in every drawing Alexis does, McKynley's love of art was contagious, she always encouraged Lexie to keep practicing. But I'll see her most when I look at her dad. She was his Mini Me. Every time I hear him sing I will remember the beautiful gift they shared and every bad joke that leaves me rolling my eyes will make me think how she would have thought it was hilarious. sometimes I just didn't get their humour.

No matter what, little girls hold a special spot in their heart for their Daddy and McKynley was no exception. Watching Jason be her Dad, the light in his eyes when she was around, was a joy and a gift.

McKynley,

I will never understand why you had to leave us so soon but I hope that you were able to find peace. Your Dad and sisters and I love you very much and will spend a lifetime missing you. Rest easy sweet girl, we will look for you amongst the stars."

Dimes

Jingling, jangling, simple dimes

A futile coin with so much shine

But what you lack in net worth

You make up well for here on earth

You deliver messages from above

From those who've passed to those they love

Silver disks are such a soothing sign

An indication the deceased are fine

The departed linger in our space

And dimes from them are a saving grace

They leave them in spots for us to see

A modest keepsake for you and me

A tiny reminder, a glimmer of hope

Some encouragement while we grieve and cope

Little hints throughout the passing of time

Till we meet again we share dimes

~Cindy Renauld

Love and Laughter,

Jen

"Gift of A Friend"

I don't know where we would be without our friends. This is especially true for Alexis and Kennedy who spend more time with their friends than their parents as teenagers tend to do. Both girls have best friends, Alexis since the second grade, and they were the people they needed the day I had to tell them about McKynleys death. They needed them more than they needed us in those early moments and days later at the cheer gym Kennedy cried in their arms while they lovingly consoled her. It was both a heartbreaking and a beautiful thing to see and It gave me reassurance that my girls will get through this .

As hard as it was to get that early morning phone call it was even harder to have to come home and tell the kids what happened. They are not strangers to death unfortunately, having lost two grandparents in the last three years, but there was nothing I could do to prepare them this time. As a parent this is the kind of tragedy you try to protect your kids from but there it was staring me right in the face like a demon. I was as honest and to the point as I could be. Sugar coating it wasn't going to make it better and I tried my best to keep my composure so I could say it without throwing up right there on the living room floor. They sat and cried their little hearts out that morning, Kennedy repeatedly telling me how she just felt so bad for Dad and Lexie sobbing uncontrollably into Jason's shoulder. Not surprisingly both of them wanted to go to school, they needed their friends, and so I made a call to the community coordinator at Kennedy's school to fill her in and then drove to Lexie's school to talk directly to her counsellor. By then the news had travelled down the pipe at the high schools so I thankfully didn't have much explaining to do. Lexie's friend Sydney was called down to be with her until she was ready to face her first class and Kennedys bestie,  Danica, called her just to tell her that she was her best friend and that she loved her. My girls are so blessed to have the friends that they do, these girls are wonderful, compassionate young ladies and I love them very much.

The girls took a short trip to Victoria over the Thanksgiving weekend to visit their other parents for a few days. They are pretty well travelled and it's nothing for me to put them on a plane so it was a nice break for Jason and I and a much needed change of scenery for them. Kennedy has a good friend that lives just down the road there and she was pretty excited to be able to see her and spend the weekend camping together. It's business as usual now though, they are back to school and trying to catch up on the homework from the few days they missed. Filling their free time with musical and cheer. They are both dealing with things in their own way and just like it is for Jason and I it's different for the two of them as well. Kennedy is more heartbroken for the people around her, she's like a little mother hen, but she's also very angry. Lexie, who shared a room with McKynley when they were younger, is struggling a lot more. She kept going up to the casket at the viewing and crying and it wasn't until I stood beside her and she leaned in to kiss McKynley's forehead and lay the drawing she'd made beside her that she was able to find a moment of peace. The Saturday before her passing Lexie and Mick spent some time together and Lexie gave her a makeover and they did a photo shoot, regular teenage girl stuff. So it was quite funny when Alexis joked that McKynley would have eternally good eyebrows as she had spent a lot of time shaping them to perfection and said that the funeral home better not screw them up. It was a light moment in a series of hard conversations and Lexie's humour has carried us through many tough moments these past weeks. A picture of McKynley from that day, all dolled up and wearing one of Lexie's dresses, now sits on her nightstand.

After the funeral, in the family room, the four of us stood in a circle with our arms around each other and sobbed. Standing right outside our little circle was our friends, our hand picked family, waiting to wipe away our tears. All of friends are helping us to heal, pushing us a long a little and reminding us to live. We are stronger because of them and they are a gift we will cherish forever.

Love and Laughter,
Jen