What Can I Do To Stop Bullying?

When my son Jonathan lost his life to suicide there was talk about bullying. My husband and I did not know that he was being bullied. It was only after his death that we were made aware of this situation. 

It seems that victims of bullies are afraid to stand up for themselves. Often times they do not tell anyone because they feel helpless. They feel alone. I wish my son would have confided in us. If he did, he may still be with us today.

There have been several suicides in our area over the past few years due to bullying. When I would hear about the loss of a young life, it saddened me. It broke my heart. I always felt sympathy for the parents who lost their child. It never crossed my mind that one day I would be one of those parents.

When our community would lose a young life to suicide, I watched my children closely. I searched for any signs in my children's behavior that may lead to suicide. As time would pass, my constant vigilance would slowly fade. When the news of another suicide would arise I would watch my children like a hawk once again. The cycle continued. Vigilance followed by complacency. 

Less than three weeks after the death of my son, his brother was in an altercation with another child at school. The other child is known to be a bully. To my understanding, there were words exchanged and it escalated to a physical fight. As of now, the school is trying to sort out what happened. Even though I do not know all the details, it is my belief that whatever the consequence, I will not be satisfied.

The other child told my son that he should kill himself like his brother. 

Our family is still grieving. To hear that someone would make such a rude, insensitive comment infuriates us. It hurts us to know that another one of our children is also a victim of a bully.

The loss of our son, my children's brother, has put us on alert once again on the dangers involved with bullying. Jonathan's death will not be in vain. I am not going to stay silent. I will do everything within my power to try to make a difference. My first step is posting my feelings on my "little" blog. It may not be a big step, but it will not be my last.

Family, Funerals, and Grief

These last couple of weeks have been very hard for our family. We had a celebration of life for our son Jonathan on the January 20th. He would have turned 15 years old. I am very appreciative of the love and support we have received from family, friends, and strangers.

They say that funerals bring out the best and worst in people. Some of the hardest parts for me to deal with have come from family. There are just some things that the people closest to us say or do that are hurtful at a time when things are already really difficult. 

I have been told that everyone grieves in their own way. Sometimes I think that's just an excuse for people’s poor behavior. Being in pain does not excuse being a jerk. 

As parents who have lost a child, shouldn't my wife and I be the ones who are mourning the most? I don't understand why someone else would be disrespectful and make this situation about them.

In the last couple of weeks, the actions of others have really drained the energy out of life. I was left feeling exhausted, depressed and angry. This cycle seems to repeat itself over and over again. Maybe it’s the grieving process or perhaps it’s something else. I am not really sure since I have never lost someone this close to me before. 

Coping with my son’s suicide has not been easy. A lot of the time, people want to talk and ask questions concerning his death. I know that they just want to reach a better understanding of what has happened. They don't realize that talking about his death, causes me to relive the experience again. It’s not fun. I usually cannot get through answering their questions without a pause. I try to keep from tearing up and crying.

Things are getting more manageable since his service. When I start feeling sad, I try to remember good things about Jon. He loved playing pranks on people and telling jokes. We spent lots of time out fishing or working in the garden. It’s these types of memories that help me to feel better when I am feeling sad. I miss him.

Remembering My Son

It has been two weeks since my 14 year old son Jonathan died from suicide. I am slowly coming to terms with his death. The road will be long and rough.

The whirlwind of emotions have not stopped. Sometimes I laugh as we reminisce about the happy times that we have shared with him. Other times I cry when I remember that he is gone and that there will be no more things to experience with him. Right now, the memories are fresh. 

I have bipolar disorder and one of the symptoms of this condition is having a difficult time with memory. I don't want to forget the little things. I don't want the recollection of these events in my mind to fade. The thought brings tears to my eyes. 

I know that I will feel remorseful as time goes by. Slowly I will forget his face and will have to look at pictures to remind me of what he looked like. All the encounters that we have shared will be harder to remember. The twinkle in his eye. His mischievous grin. The way that he brought humor to our lives. 

Before my son's funeral service my husband asked me if I needed an anti-anxiety pill to get through that day. I refused. I told him that did not want to be numbed.

I wanted to feel everything. I wanted to mourn. I wanted to feel the sadness. I wanted to feel the grief. 

I have not had my emotional breakdown yet. I have discussed my concerns with my doctor. I believe that the medication that I am taking to stabilize my moods are not allowing me to process the full spectrum of feelings that this loss should bring me. For my sanity, I feel the need to go insane. 

I miss my son. He will always be in my thoughts. He will always be in my heart. 

A friend told me that I shouldn't call the deep, gut wrenching feelings of grief a "breakdown". I should consider it to be a "breakthrough". Her words bring comfort to me as I travel through my journey of coming terms with my greatest loss, my son.

Celebrating My Son's Life

Since I lost my son Jonathan to suicide last weekend I have had lots of time to think. I am overwhelmed with emotion. It has been difficult coming to the realization that he is gone and never coming back. 

I do not know what to do. I do not know what to say. I do not know how to feel. I do not know where to go from here. 

I am in shock. I am in denial. I am in disbelief. I am confused. I am in pain. I am lost. I am trying to come to terms with how life will be without him. 

I am still expecting to find him at the computer laughing while he watches ridiculous videos on YouTube. I am still calling his name as if he is here. I am still expecting him to walk through the door.

I know that he is in a good place. I know that his pain has been lifted. I know his disabilities are healed and he is now perfect. I know that no matter how much I want him back, it was his time to leave. I know that he is an angel watching over us here on earth.

I am feeling many things. There are many questions that will never get answered. Although right now I am living a life of uncertainty, the one thing I know for sure is that he is smiling down upon us and that we will be together again someday.

I lost my son ten days before his 15th birthday. We are holding his memorial service on the anniversary of his birth. We are planning the biggest celebration of his life.  

My Greatest Loss, My Son

Today, I lost my 14 year old son Jon to suicide. Try as I might, I cannot think of any reason as to why he would choose to end his life. He was always a happy child who would make people laugh with his crazy antics.

As I write this, I think of my previous blog posts where I discussed all my own disparities. The way I bitched, moaned, and complained about my experiences with bipolar disorder. I rambled on and on about my bouts of depression. I talked endlessly about how hard it was to see past the tunnel of darkness. 

 All those blogs seem trivial now. I was selfish in thinking that I was helping others by sharing my feelings about my disorder with the world. I did not take the time to look closer; at the people near me to know that they needed my help, too. 

All I thought about was my own pain and personal troubles. I was too blind to notice any signs that my son was having difficulties within his own life. I did not look beyond his smile to get a good look into his eyes to see if there was sadness hidden behind them.

As I sit here in the wee hours of the morning, I know that I probably will not get any sleep tonight. My heart is broken. My conscience feels guilty. My mind is full of questions as to what I could have done if I only knew what was going on in his mind.

My husband and older son discouraged me from looking at him at the location where he chose to end his life. It was sheer torture watching as they wheeled him to the coroners van. Just before they loaded him, they gave me a chance to see him. They unzipped the body bag just enough for me to view his face; probably to ensure that I could not see the injuries that he incurred during the last moments of his life. I stroked his cheek and touched his forehead. I leaned down to give him a kiss. He was cold. I told him that I loved him.

I do not know what I am supposed to do from here. I feel the greatest loss a mother can feel; the loss of a child. There is one thing I know for sure, life is precious and I will no longer take mine for granted.

I love you, Jonathan, I love you.

Caffeine, Cigarettes, and Cocaine

Whenever I drive my teenage son to school I make a stop at my favorite fast food establishment. I make my way to the drive thru and order the same thing every time; a large caramel frappe, no whipped cream, extra drizzle. It contains one of my drugs of choice: caffeine. It supplies me with the energy I need in the morning. I can slurp one down in less than five minutes. Yum!

In all honesty, I do not drink just one during the day. I have one in the morning, another in the afternoon and one more at night. Whenever I go to McDonalds, they know who I am. I get extra special service. All I have to do is walk in and they start making one as soon as they notice me. Often, I will buy two a few hours apart during the same shift. I do not know how many times I have heard the comment, "You again? You were just in here not that long ago!" 

More than once, my doctor has told me to limit my caffeine intake. I do not listen. Throughout the day, I need a pick me up and the magical liquid is just what I need to keep me going. It has been recommended that I discontinue consuming caffeinated beverages at 4 P.M. in the afternoon so that it will clear my system so I can fall asleep at a decent time at night. Decreasing my habit will also help with my anxiety levels. I have not admitted to my doctor that I drink my last frappe of the night between the times of 8 P.M. and 11 P.M. I am a rebel. What is he going to do? Bend me over his knee and spank me?

Regular sleep schedules are important for someone with bipolar disorder. Caffeine can affect mood by causing high levels of energy. It can affect one's sleep schedule which can cause insomnia if used close to bedtime. If someone does not get enough sleep it can throw them into a manic phase, especially if this occurs for an extended period of time.

The addiction that I find most difficult to discontinue is smoking. I am a pack a day smoker. I have have been smoking since I was 14 years old. I have tried to quit many times. Sometimes I am successful but I resume smoking several months later.

It has been suggested that individuals with mood disorders use nicotine to regulate their moods. It affects dopamine levels that interacts with the pleasure centers within the brain. Quitting smoking can lead to depression. Sometimes antidepressants are used to to make quitting smoking easier. The use of antidepressants should be carefully monitored by a doctor because it can cause a major manic episode in someone with bipolar disorder.

According to what I have heard, cocaine is the drug of choice for people with bipolar disorder. Mania has been compared to a cocaine high. I can neither confirm or deny this fact because I have never used it, although I am curious. It is an expensive habit and I cannot afford it. Besides, the last thing I need is another addiction.

photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/stephenburch/4946765216/">Stephen Burch</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/">cc</a>

My Reflections On My Depressions

As I look in the mirror, my reflection stares back at me. I recognize that I have seen this image many times. The sight of my unkempt hair reminds me that I haven't bathed in a few days. I look tired despite the fact that I spend the majority of my time sleeping. It is obvious that the way I feel is presenting itself on my appearance. I wonder if the outside world can also tell how I feel inside. I am in a state of depression. 

I wonder why I am feeling this way. Is this state of bipolar depression a matter of external factors around me or is it influenced by a chemical imbalance in my brain. My mind doesn't spend much time thinking about it. I do not have the energy to delve deeper into the reason for my despair.

I am operating on autopilot. My actions are minimal. Only necessary functions are completed. I drive the kids where they need to go. I force myself to load the washing machine only when the children have run out of clean clothes to wear. I waste most of the day away accomplishing nothing.

When they get home, my family takes over the household tasks while I sit forlorn in my bed. The kids do the dishes and cook dinner. My husband transfers the laundry from washer to dryer. I stare at the screen of my laptop and wander aimlessly on the World Wide Web finding interest in nothing. 

My family is used to this because it happens often. They have adjusted their lifestyle to meet my own. When I am in a depressed state they need to take over and do the tasks that should be mine.

I wish that I had the power to pull myself out of this depression. I wish that I had the capability to change the way I feel. Most of all, instead of feeling lonely and defeated, I wish that I had the mental capacity to be a better wife and mother to my husband and children while I am experiencing a depressive phase.


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Saying Goodbye

I have suffered a great loss. Someone who is important to me has left my life. My heart breaks at the thought that I will never see this person again. Precious memories are all that I have left. Already, the details of our special moments together are fading. 

It is difficult to know that I can no longer reach out to the person that I have shared many private aspects of my life. It is a struggle to find the strength to move on. I think about this person all the time. 

Without this person, I feel alone. I wish I could turn back time and be with this person again. I sometimes want to live in the past and regain what we had together. I don't know if I can leave the past behind and move on. I know that it is impossible to revisit what is now gone. I feel as if I have experienced the loss of someone I loved to death.

Bipolar disorder has touched many events in my life. During certain times I have felt intense joy. Other times I have felt deep sadness. The loss of that person that brought cherished memories has caused me great pain. One day when I reminisce about my experiences I will no longer feel the pain of losing those memories that I hold close to my heart. I hope I will never forget my past; for I would not be the same person I am today without them.