"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

"Beautifully Broken"

"Hey, How's it going?". It seems like a simple enough question and we ask it without even thinking. We respond with out thinking either. "Good, You?" But this question has made me a liar. Greif has made me a liar. I've lied to my friends, coworkers, parents, kids and even my husband. Every time I answer that question my response is a lie. I'm not good or getting through or trying to stay busy. I'm broken. We are all broken.

People have commented that they are surprised to see me out doing regular things. This was especially true that first week, before the initial shock had worn off, when I just wanted to be around people. Nearly three weeks have passed since McKynley's death and being around people has become a struggle. I've told the story of what happened repeatedly and now that everyone knows there is nothing left to talk about. The daily chit chat I used to enjoy and find so easy has become a burden as I try my best to act my normal self. Everyone wants to hear that I'm doing ok and nobody wants to know that I'm waking up in fits of terror in the night, thrashing in my sleep, that I'm exhausted, sad and angry. But I still have to live, I have to be a Mom and a wife, and so I force myself to do the regular things in a desperate quest to feel normal.

I think the anger is what I find most surprising. The natural assumption is that I would be mad at McKynley for the choice she made but I'm not. I've been mad at Jason for bringing so much heartache into my life with his bipolar disorder and all the struggles it's put us through and now we have to figure out how to live with his daughters suicide. Why the hell did this happen to him? To us? At the same time that I have been unfairly directing my anger at my husband and having a personal pity party I have been wracked with guilt about feeling that way. I look in the mirror and this angry bitter stranger is staring back at me and it's very unsettling.

Bigger than my moments of anger are the moments of sadness that come from seeing my normally vivacious and fun loving husband so devastated. The sorrows Jason and I are experiencing are completely different and it's hard for me to understand exactly how he feels because losing a step-child is different than losing your only biological child. As much as I am grieving the loss of McKynley I am grieving the loss of her father in a sense as well. Jayse often goes over to the small alter we have set up with photos of McKynley, some candles, a teddy bear and the small butterfly urn we chose together that holds some of her ashes. He picks up the urn and big tears run down his face as he holds it tightly and kisses it and then gently puts it down. Besides his memories this is all he has left of his beautiful daughter. None of us will ever be the same but Jason will be the most changed from this. He will always carry the sadness of a short lived life with him and nothing, not even time, will change that.

We do have our moments of happiness mixed in with the sadness. It's hard to live in a house with Alexis and Kennedy and not laugh at some point. They are the light and life in our darkness right now. Humour has always been a coping mechanism and for us and Jayse and I always seem to be able to find things to laugh about, usually at the most inappropriate moment. I think that's what's holding us back from the edge of despair. Moments that are glimmers of hope for us to grasp knowing that we will emerge from this more beautifully broken than we were before.

Love and Laughter,
Jen

"Stand by Me'

The stigma surrounding mental illness is still forcing those that deal with into shamed silence so as a spouse it's rare to find a solid support system because people just don't talk about it. I've been incredibly lucky to have a close friend that goes through the same daily struggles with her husband as I do with mine. If it wasn't for Cindy there is a good chance that I would have given up on Jason and our marriage before his diagnosis but she held fast and pushed me into getting the help she realized he needed before anyone else did. Seeing her deal with her husband Dusty, who is Jason's childhood friend, gave me hope in the tough times that things would get better. She's my person, the one I call laughing or crying or swearing, and even though life doesn't always make time for us to physically see each other I always have her in my heart pushing me along. Here is her take on Bipolar marriage and our friendship:

"Jen and I  have been friends for close to a decade. I have been blessed to be a part of her circle as our spouses are like brothers. I often call her my wife. She is my cheerleader when I need it and I hope she thinks I am hers. We don't hang out all the time. We have spurts where we do lots, then life comes along with it's demands and we will go months before a good coffee check-in. That's how it is when you have a family and are married to someone with a mental health disorder. You make a habit of routine and stability even if it means your social life takes a back seat.

Like Jens husband my spouse Dusty falls under the bipolar spectrum. He was diagnosed with BPD as a teenager with a final diagnosis of BPD II as of 2013 after a severe depressive episode caused by mixing his BPD meds with a smoking cessation aid prescribed by his doctor. Now, everyone knows of someone with BPD, but knowing it and living with it are two different things. When it's in your house there is no turning a blind eye. BPD doesn't disappear after medication. It is always there and it has it's own agenda.

Over the years, Dusty and I have developed a circle of care for him. He has his people he talks to and I have mine. My first go-to person regarding his BPD is Jen. She gets my worries, my frustrations, and most important, the humour I use to get through it. Some people would find it tacky or insensitive but It's a coping mechanism and she relates. Sometimes I don't handle things as well as I should and she is my teammate. She can redirect me with a few words or relieve me from feeling like I am irrational. Jen also understands the effort needed to make our marriages work. All marriages have commitment, however there is a deeper level of commitment when your in a relationship with someone who has BPD (or any other emotional disorder.) It is work. Hard ass daily work and often it feels very one sided.  I know... I sound straightforward and callous but don't be fooled, I wouldn't change my choices of being married to him for anything even when everyday comes with a new challenge... or an old one. In our lives we never trade in mental health for physical health. If that means we keep a quiet night or our circles small we do it. We do whatever it takes to enjoy our present as we are not promised a future.

Jen is an inspiration. I am in awe a lot of the time on how well she deals with all that comes her way. I have often told Jen that I feel she is the only one who gets my struggles regarding this. Being married to a person with BPD isn't always a picnic. Sometimes it feels like you're having caviar in a soup kitchen. Dusty is my favourite person he just happens to have BPD. I will do whatever work it takes to keep us doing well.

Be good or be good at it,

Cindy

"Stray Cat Strut"

I have a new post in the works featuring a piece by my friend Cindy whos husband also suffers from Bipolar Disorder. It's not quite ready yet so here's a picture of Jason's therapy cat Bugz who's supposed to help with his anxiety but doesn't actually like him that much. That's a whole other story in it's self but at least he's cute, Right?

Love and Laughter,

Jen

"We Are Family"

I had an terribly easy divorce, far more simple than I deserved it to be, and for the last ten years I have shared custody of Alexis and Kennedy with my ex husband Todd. The military has taken him to several bases throughout the country but somehow we have always found a way to make his visits with the kids a priority. The girls always spend time with him on their summer break and Christmas vacation and Jason and I would celebrate with them and McKynley before they left for Edmonton or Ottawa or Victoria. For a lot of years I drove on treacherous Saskatchewan highways to meet Todd halfway between Regina and Edmonton where the four of us would have lunch together before I headed home alone only to have to make a return trip a week or so later to pick the girls up.

Todd married Sarah in the fall of 2012 and what I didn't realize at the time was the union would completely change our family forever. Todd and I had always managed to get along well after our split, putting the best interest of the girls before our own feelings. I was worried how our relationship would change with a new wife in the picture but Sarah came into our lives ready and eager to take on the roll of Mom. Being a step parent is hard. You're expected love a child or children that are not your own and you're never really sure where you fit into the picture or if you're stepping on someone's toes. The final message I had for McKynley was a note on her casket that said "some children are born of your body and some are born in your heart" and it's true, you don't have to have the battle scars of pregnancy to love a child unconditionally. Sarah is an amazing step-mom. She embraces motherhood whole heartedly and her love for our daughters has forged a strong bond between not only the three of them but the two of us as well. Her and I will talk on the phone for hours every week, she is one of the first people I call when I need to lean on someone and we have dropped the "Step" part of her title so she is she is just "Mom" to our girls. Todd and Jason get along well too and the four of us together are a parenting dream team. Alexis and Kennedy have grown up knowing the strength and stability that comes from having four parents that have the same expectations of them, the same basic rules and who only speak positive words about one another. We always present a united front and if we don't agree at the time we work it out later and we never ever fight about money.

Todd and Sarah are family, they are the first people I called when McKynley passed, we have travelled together and shared hotel rooms and laughed and cried together and the six of us will be spending our Christmas together in a chalet in the mountains at the girls request. We are raising strong, caring and compassionate young ladies and we are doing it together.

Love and Laughter,
Jen

"Losing My Religion"

If you Google "finding dimes" you will get an infinite number of search results telling of the spiritual significance of such things. Over the last week or so I have found quite a few dimes in the strangest of places. Outside the girls bedrooms, at the bottom of our stairs, under the seat of Jason's Jeep and a single dime glinting in the sunshine during a walk. Every time I pick one up I have two contradicting trains of thought. The first is that it must be a message from Mick telling us that she's alright and the second is that I am looking for signs that there is something else out there for us when we die. McKynleys passing has me questioning pretty much everything I've come to believe and doubting all the tools I've gained to deal with life's unexpected circumstances. My strong foundation has been shaken hard and it is starting to show a few cracks.

I didn't grow up in a religious home. I went to Sunday school for a while when I was in first or second grade and my family sometimes went to mass on Christmas Eve or Easter Sunday. When Jason's mental illness started to make an appearance I knew I needed something more than just the little bit of Godly teaching I received when I was a kid to get me through. I abandoned what I had always thought I believed and embraced a new way of thinking when I realized that organized religion was not for me and I began to study Wicca. It's all about checks and balances and putting as much positivity out into the world as you can and I believe that we are put on earth to learn a specific lesson or set of lessons in order for us to be perfect souls when we go to the Summerland. I've embraced the idea that Jason's mental illness is teaching me compassion and empathy and patience and these are things that I need to learn for my own eventual journey to the afterlife. The part I'm struggling with now is what kind of lesson the death of a child by their own hand is supposed to be teaching me. I'm not learning to be a better person because this happened. It's making me bitter and angry and leaving me asking what the hell the point is of trying to be a good person when this type of horrible event is going to happen anyway. My balance is out of whack and I feel like I'm teetering on the edge of a black hole.

I have seen many sad sights in the last two weeks but there are two that I will carry in my heart forever; Sweet Alexis standing over her step-sisters open casket with tears spilling down her cheeks as she struggled to find her composure in a room full of strangers and my husband dressing for his daughters funeral. These are things that I never imagined I would have to witness in my lifetime and I'm absolutely furious that I had to see them. Children are supposed to burry their parents not the other way around. Jason asked me why everyone else isn't sad and at first I didn't understand what he was asking but what he was getting at was how life can continue to go on like nothing happened when his daughter is dead and we are consumed with grief.

I'm not really sure where to go from here. I'm trying to find at least one thing everyday to be thankful for no matter how small it might be in hopes that I can shift my thinking away from the anger. I keep trying to remind myself that this is nobody's fault and that everyday it will get a little bit easier but it's hard to believe that when I'm wiping away my husbands tears or holding one of the girls in my arms while they weep. As a parent I have had a few less than shining moments and I feel guilty about my sharp responses when I know that they are just trying to help. The anguish of watching Jason mourn his child and knowing there is nothing I can do to take his pain away is as bad as the grief itself and I hold him extra tight for my benefit as much as his. If nothing else I hope the love we have for each other will set us on the path to healing.

Love and laughter,
Jen

"Unsteady"

I was absolutely blown away by the response from my first blog post. I thought maybe one person (probably my Mom) would read it and that would be it. Thank you to everyone that took the time to read the beginning of our story and asked me to keep writing. I've been thinking hard about what to share next but my brain has been so foggy the last few days I honestly am not even sure what day it is. My mind keeps going back to last Tuesday and rolling like a movie flashback. The second the phone call came through I went into shock. I remember telling Jason to wait for me while I threw on pants and a bra and quickly brushed my teeth and then telling Kennedy that Jason and I had to run to an emergency but everything was fine and to go back to sleep. It was the wee hours of the morning, most people not quite up for work yet, and there was little traffic on the road. I have no idea how I drove my car across town but when we pulled up in front of the house and I saw the police cruiser reality hit me like a brick. I was almost sure I was going to throw up when we entered the house and the sorrowful lament of a grief stricken mother assailed me. I watched helplessly as Jason held the woman who had given him his only child and sobbed.

You might think it strange but the first person I called was my ex husband and his wife. It was four in the morning on the west coast and I could tell when Todd answered the phone he knew it wasn't good news. He kept saying "Oh my god" and my response was "I don't know what to do". He didn't give me some bullshit answer but reminded me I needed to look after Jayse and said to keep him posted if I learned anything new or we needed anything. And that's when the switch in my brain finally flicked on and I realized that I didn't have the luxury of being an anguished step-parent, I needed to be the wife to a husband with Bipolar Disorder (BPD) who has just suffered an insurmountable loss. It's been a long time since I've had to think about the steps to get Jason through a crisis. I mentally checked off all the things that needed to be done and moved swiftly to put my plan into place. I often joke about having a purse full of Ativan but I was grateful to have it that morning and Jason took one when offered without question. I could start to see the stress settling in even with meds on board. Jason was pacing and chain smoking but how much of that was the BPD and how much was from the situation at hand? That's one of the hardest things about caring for someone with a mental illness, you're never quite sure where the boundary lies between normal expected behaviors and the disease. I wasn't taking any chances. As soon as I could I put a call into to his Psychiatrist explaining the gravity of the situation to the secretary and begging for her to have the doctor call us as soon as possible. She called me back within the hour to book an appointment for that afternoon and to let me know the doctor would be calling me to get the details before we arrived. It was a grim visit. Both of us in tears while the doctor sat stony faced listening to us recount the mornings events. All the meds in the world could do nothing to ease my husbands pain that day but she wrote him a prescription for a quick release anti-psychotic to help him sleep and we made plans to meet again the next day. Jayse didn't want to sleep that first night and was upset with me when I insisted he take the meds and go to bed. He might not have wanted to rest but my mind needed it desperately and there was no way I was drifting off without him out cold beside me. Even then it was a fitful night sleep for both of us, he tossed and turned and I did my best to keep one hand on him the whole night so I would wake up if he got out of bed. For the first three days I made sure Jayse was never alone, I even had his parents sit with him while I took a shower and had a buddy come hang out with him so I could get a coffee and watch the girls cheer. The doctor figures if a "crash" is coming it will happen in the next four to six weeks. Right now we are doing ok, trying to keep busy and holding each other tight when the waves of grief hit. The support of our friends and family have been the key to getting us through these early days and we are so blessed to have such wonderful people in our lives.

Everyone keeps telling me I have to look after myself but what they don't understand is that when I know Jason is ok then I'll be ok. Since his diagnosis we have been able to work together to "fix" things and make our life pretty normal . We can't fix this, we have to embrace the experience of grief and let it mold and shape us as we heal but not let it beat us. We are a strong couple and we have been through more in our nine years together than most couples deal with in a lifetime. I try to look at all of the hardships as lessons that are making me into the person that I was intended to be when I was put on this earth. The easiest part is loving my tender hearted husband and being thankful that I was given such and amazing gift when he came into my life.

Love and Laughter,
Jen

"Fade To Black "

I’ve sat at my computer many times with the intention of sharing my families story and day to day adventures dealing with Bipolar Disorder but never really knew where to start or even if it would be that interesting. It wasn’t until last week that I realized the importance of speaking out and letting others know that they are not alone in their metal health struggles. My sixteen-year-old step-daughter, who has been struggling with depression, felt that there was no other option for her in this world than to take her own life. She had an incredible support system with a counsellor and a psychiatrist who were treating her and family and friends that were the centre of her world. But the demons that come with depression along with a med change, typical teenage issues and relentless bullying proved to be too much for her sweet soul to bare.  

This blog will not only be a way to share our grief as we morn the loss of a child from suicide but also how my family lives with my husbands Bipolar Disorder and stories of our daily adventures. It will be a serious beginning but I promise as we go on my sense of humour and sarcasm will shine through the darkness. This is my outlet. I don’t mince words or hold back so be prepared for real life emotions when you come here. Some days it might bring laughter and some days tears but it will always be honest and transparent.

In the spring of 2014, not quite a year into our marriage, my husband Jason was suffering from a body tremor that would often make it impossible for him to sit still. These bouts of what we would later learn were called akathisia had been going on here and there for the better part of four years. He had been to several neurologists and a neurosurgeon and had undergone all sorts of tests looking for tumours and other disorders to no avail. I was convinced he had everything from diabetes to cancer (thanks WebMD). For periods of time he would be fine and so we started putting the episodes off to him being sleep deprived or ill or that the untreated mono that he had back in 2010 had had some lasting effects. And then I started thinking back a little. Just prior to getting mono Jason’s behavior had become erratic. The best way to describe it would be a five-year-old that stayed up all night eating candy and then told they were leaving for Disneyland. Jason is naturally outgoing and energetic but even this was over the top for him and it was causing some major issues in our relationship. But it was short lived and other than increasing mood swings and an insatiable sex drive we were doing ok. In December of 2011, just after our engagement Jason’s Mom had a stroke and so we moved across town to be closer to his parents. As a couple we were struggling. Jason’s mood swings would make my head spin and he would often lash out at the kids or myself over seemingly nothing. His high sex drive was becoming overwhelming for me and I was tired of being pawed at all the time. Couple that with not knowing if he was angry with me half the time and his lashing out and then switching to being the sweetest fiancé ever, I wasn’t sure we were going to last long enough to tie the knot. But again, the good times outweighed the bad and on Valentines day in 2013 a JP came to our home and we sealed the deal. At this point the akathisia had started and Jason would often be exhausted with circles around his eyes so dark they were almost black and he was almost always short tempered with myself or the girls. He was also dealing with chronic pain and our GP had him trying a slew of different meds to try and combat the aches and pains we believed to be brought on by his hours spent at the gym every week; A habit he was not willing to give up and has been a saving grace for us in the years since. My good friend repeatedly suggested we get a referral to a psychiatrist. Her husband who happens to be Jays childhood friend suffers from Bipolar Disorder and she said Jason hit all the marks. Jason brushed me off when I mentioned it to him claiming it was nothing for me to worry about but I worried constantly. At the end of February 2014 Jason had a terrible fight with his daughter (who was then 12 years old) and her mother about plans for our custody that weekend. That little bit of stress combined with all his other symptoms was enough to push Jason over the edge and I was sure he was having a nervous breakdown. He didn’t sleep for almost 3 weeks. He would lay in our bed and toss and turn all night and cry that he wanted to die because his body was shaking so badly he could hardly speak. I’d have to stop him from hitting himself in the head with his fist, he was looking for an escape. His coworkers were starting to notice his distress and he was sent home from work multiple times. I finally got up the nerve to insist he make a trip to the ER and talk to the on-call Psychiatrist and that’s where our journey into the metal illness world began. We found out that all of it: the shakes, the insomnia, the mood swings, high sex drive and the chronic pain were all being caused by some sort of mental disorder. One thing you need to realize about Psychiatrists is that they are not quick to label. Even now, three and a half years later, we don’t have a definitive diagnosis other than we know Jason falls somewhere on the bipolar spectrum maybe closer to schizophrenia. It’s a scary thing to have to face and it’s exhausting for the caregiver because you live in a constant state of high vigilance and worry.

Bipolar Disorder used to be called Manic depression. It’s a mood disorder that can cause periods of deep depression and periods of what is called mania. I’m not an expert or any kind of medical professional but I have learned a lot of things along the way and I’ve educated myself to better help my husband and our family cope. People often think of mania as being euphoric and happy all the time but it can also cause irritability and anger as well as risky behaviors. The depression can be physically painful and emotionally debilitating. I have often compared being Bipolar to being like tinfoil. Bright and shiny on one side and dull and lacklustre on the other. Along with the Bipolar Disorder Jason also suffers from mild obsessive compulsive disorder and severe anxiety. He has facial and vocal ticks that you probably wouldn’t notice if you weren’t paying attention and we are not sure if these are caused by his medications or just another symptom of his illness. This is a lot for one person to handle but he does with grace and integrity. He has tried three anti-psychotics (the category of drugs used to treat many mental illnesses), more anti-depressants than I can think of, at least two benzodiazepines for the anxiety and pills for sleep to help with the manic insomnia. Finding a combination of meds that works with as few side effects as possible has taken a long time. The med changes are the scariest times because you never know exactly what to expect. I lay awake at night wondering if he will “crash” and go into a full bipolar episode knowing fully well that his mind is going a mile a minute and that thoughts of self harm or suicide are a reality. Of course all of this can happen while still on the meds but you learn to recognize the signs and I can pretty much tell he is going high or low before he even realizes it himself. We see his psychiatrist regularly, always together, and she is fantastic at what she does. Letting your patient be in control of their own treatment plan makes all the difference when it comes to med compliance and that is the key to living a normal life. Jason has been stable for about a year after starting a new medication last fall. He has gone from taking upwards of five medications a day to just two with the odd rescue pill needed here and there in anxious moments. We have a solid routine that we stick to at home and he works out everyday at a gym close to where we live. Sometimes on an unstable day a good workout is all it takes to settle things down and I am glad it is something he has been doing for the last 10 years and enjoys.

Now we have new waters to navigate. How do you move on after the death of child? They say time heals all wounds but this one will leave an everlasting scar on our hearts. We don’t have any answers yet but we have each other and that’s a good place to start.

               

Love and Laughter,

Jen