A place of belonging

I am so thankful I decided to become a foster parent. The 10-day respite visit with B and K was amazing. They are just such good kids. My heart breaks for the situation they are in and the trauma they have endured, but they both take it in stride and prefer to look forward rather than dwell in the past. 

Vader loved having someone to play basketball and video games with. B enjoyed having an adult he could sit and talk to. And boy did he talk! K appreciated having his own space. Overall, we all had a great experience. We have stayed in touch and will continue to do so. 

We are now getting to know another 16-year-old. We started with a short meeting, then an overnight visit, and now we are planning a whole weekend. I am nervous about it. I hope they like me. I hope they see that I am a good person, with an open heart. I want them to know they will have a safe place to be themself in my home. That my home can be their home. I want to give them a place where they feel seen and valued, where they belong. 

I also appreciated the fact that we have the chance to meet and get to know each other a bit before they moves in. Kids in foster care have had everything ripped away from them and I think it is important for them to have some say about where they go and who they live with. It isn’t a perfect system and sometimes there isn’t time or many options to choose from. But for them, for this possible foster relationship, I am thankful they get a voice. I am thankful that we have the ability to choose each other. 

Opening my home to others

In May of 2022 I decided to become a foster parent. After background checks, fingerprinting, months of training, and in-depth personal interviews, I am finally ready to begin accepting children into my home. 

I will begin this Friday with two 16-year-old boys for a 10-day respite stay. I think it is the perfect opportunity to learn and adjust to sharing our home. Vader is excited, both because they enjoy video games and because they share the same taste in snacks - chips, crackers, and smoothies. Who doesn’t though, right? 

I am not naive. I know this journey isn’t going to be easy. I know I am taking on a lot and will be challenged often. It will be harder than I expect at times, I’m sure. There will be a lot of bumps and heartache along the way. But there will also be growth and love and connection too. And when the time comes, it will be hard to say goodbye to each and every child that passes through. But this isn’t about me. It’s about them. 

It’s about providing a safe, loving, and welcoming home for however long they stay. It is about sharing their hopes and dreams with them, and encouraging them to be themselves, fully and completely. It’s being a trusted adult who believes in them and is proud of their achievements, big and small. It’s keeping them connected to their families, friends, faith, and cultures. It is about being a support for their birth families when they need it most and helping them move through the trauma with patience and grace. 

I appreciate all of the love and support along the way and still to come. I am excited for this next step. Whatever it brings, I will face it with my whole heart. 

New Year, New Word

I know it’s been a while since I shared any family news. Years have passed and so much has changed. Vader is in 5th grade, heading to middle school in the fall. Jasmine is about to start the spring semester of her sophomore year in college. She is pursuing a degree in education with the goal of teaching students with autism. MacKenzie is nannying part-time and building her hairdressing/ barbering career at a salon downtown. I started working in corporate communications for a popular Northeast grocery chain as a senior public relations coordinator a few months ago and am loving it!

We didn’t make it through the last few years, and the pandemic, unscathed. There were more trips to the hospital for mental health support, including an extended stay for Jasmine just as the pandemic was hitting. MacKenzie has survived and learned from some pretty toxic relationships and is really focusing on herself now. Both girls are focused on living with Borderline Personality Disorder, PTSD, anxiety, and depression and the rollercoaster it can be. Vader has adjusted well to having two homes, one with me and one with Tony, Tony’s girlfriend and her son. It was really hard on him for a long time, but now it’s just the new normal and it’s working. I credit a lot of that to the friendship that Tony and I have. We may not have been a good couple, but we are great co-parents and, more importantly, friends.

I silently struggled with my own depression and anxiety for years, almost taking my life a few months after losing Grandma in November of 2020. Thankfully, I am still here. I am on medication, in therapy, and thriving. A few of my sisters and I started a podcast (anchor.fm/sister-trip) to address our past, it's impact on our present, and what we hope for the future. I am also in a loving, supportive relationship with a man I adore. Life is by no means perfect, but it sure is pretty damn good right now. 

Each New Year's Eve, rather than coming up with a resolution or several resolutions, I prefer to focus on a single word. Last year my word was growth. I was looking to grow as a person, a mother, a communications leader, and a public relations professional. I believe I accomplished all of those things. I had family, friends, and a boyfriend who encouraged me to grow all year. That's what I did. It's what I continue to do.

Last spring, I decided to pursue foster care and in the next couple of days I will be certified as a therapeutic foster home. That's really what has led to this year's word. Courage. Courage to open my home to children in need. Courage to use my privilege to help others be heard. Courage to challenge others' growth and courage to challenge my own. Courage to step out of my comfort zone. Courage to listen without judgment and love without boundaries. Courage to allow myself to be loved completely and to love completely in return. Courage to step out into the unknown, knowing that I am prepared for whatever it brings. 

Fall 2022

Back at the hospital

I can't believe we are back at the hospital. Back in the mental health and wellness wing. Back to visiting our daughter every day. But this time it's different. This time Tony took her because I was out of state. This time it's summer.  This time the waiting room in CPEP was empty. This time the wait between arrival and admission was eight hours instead of 18-36 or more. And this time, this time it's Jasmine.

Depression really sucks. It's so complex and unexplainable. It is so much more than a deep and heavy sadness. It takes the light, meaning, purpose, hope, and joy out of your life, regardless of what is going on, who you are with, and what you are doing.

The good news is that my girls know that we care. They know that we believe mental illness is real and serious. They know that we believe in help and hope and that we are there for them every step of the way. The fact that my girls can even share a small piece of what they are going through with us, is the reason they are alive today. My heart breaks not only for what my girls deal with, but for all of those hundreds and thousands of people who struggle and have no one.

Help is important. Support is important. Medication, therapy, and treatment are important. And loving, supportive people in your life, people you know you can depend on when things get extra shitty, are often the only thing between life and death. Even just one person can be all the difference. You don't need to know exactly what to say, it's being there that matters most.

So I ask you to open your eyes. See the pain and be the hope. Sometimes it's draining to love and support someone with a mental illness, but the reward is so worth it. They are worth it. Their life is worth it.  You need to be the one to make sure that they know that. Be the person someone else needs right now. Open your eyes and ears to those around you. Even the smallest act of support could be life-changing. And life-saving. So today I ask you to be the reason that someone seeks help or finds hope. It's as simple as letting those around you know that if they need someone, you are there.

So here we go, back to daily visits at the hospital. Doing whatever it takes to be a strong, supportive family for Jasmine, a watchful eye for MacKenzie, and a loving heart for anyone who needs it. As To Write Love on Her Arms says - "we will be the hopeful" because we know that hope and help are real. Whatever it takes, for as long as it takes, we will keep fighting. And there will be better days.

Celebrating success - together

A lot of changes are in store for our family over the next five weeks, and I couldn’t be more proud, or more emotional about it.

May 20 marks one year since MacKenzie returned home from her last trip to the behavioral health unit of the hospital. Her demons are big and ferocious and will always be there, but she is winning the battle. She has matured so much this year, taking her self-care responsibilities seriously and learning to better understand her mental illnesses. Of course, regular therapy and proper medication are extremely important; understanding an illness and the willingness to do the work it takes to stay well are also very important.

I believe her current successes show just how much she has grown and how committed she is to taking care of herself. The cosmetology program she is just about done with has not only prepared her for her future, but it helped her to discover her passion and helped mold her into the confident woman that she is. I give a lot of this credit to her teacher, who saw a lot of lows and is now helping celebrate the highs. MacKenzie places fourth in the Skills USA statewide competition for esthetics; she received the Make All the Difference Scholarship from BOCES to continue her education in the field by attending barber school in the fall; and she will graduate high school with her temporary cosmetology license.

Her senior project focused on ending the stigma around mental health. She not only shared her struggles, but encouraged others to get the help they need. She is determined to help others find the support and success that she has found. She learned a lot about herself and her BPD during the project and has become more adept at using her coping skills and seeking help when she needs it. (We will continue in our advocacy for mental health and getting the attention it needs through action, not just words. Stay tuned.)

On May 10 she received the Youth Hall of Fame Award from our Chamber of Commerce for fighting so hard to overcome her struggles and for helping so many others. Last night was the award ceremony for the scholarship. Next week she is receiving an academic award from the English Department. In two weeks Jasmine has her Moving -up Ceremony as she prepares to enter high school. MacKenzie will also have her BOCES graduation ceremony that week. And as we approach the end of the month Vader will have a graduation ceremony for pre-K and MacKenzie will walk the stage at her high school graduation. 

I will be a complete puddle of emotion by the time summer hits. But here we are. Here we all are as a family celebrating everyone’s milestones together. And MacKenzie is here. A little over a year ago we almost lost her to her demons. We almost didn’t have this. Almost. But we didn’t crawl under a rock; she didn’t crawl under a rock. We fought as a family. We persevered as family. We were her strength when she had none. We kept going because we believe hope is real. Help is out there. It does get better. The battle never ends, but we get stronger and better at fighting it. And now we get to celebrate all of these milestones. Together.

So Proud!

I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted anything, but I guess we’ve just been so busy with life, that I haven’t had time for a check-in, but I think this information deserves a little sharing.

The following letter was written by MacKenzie’s school counselor to nominate her for our town’s Youth Hall of Fame Award. I think her words capture how well MacKenzie is doing and the growth she has made, especially this year.

To Whom It May Concern,

It is my honor and privilege to nominate MacKenzie for the [Town] Youth Hall of Fame Award. I am nominating her for this honor because of her tenacity, strength and perseverance. She is an extraordinary young woman who has learned the meaning of hard work and dedication.

MacKenzie started high school just like every other peer in her class, eager, nervous and excited for this new beginning. Shortly into high school, MacKenzie began to struggle with depression and anxiety; a battle that MacKenzie was determined to overcome and fight. Along her high school journey, she struggled to maintain her mental health but never lost sight of her goals and aspirations. Her future goals kept her fighting, seeking out support and using the skill she learned to conquer. As a junior MacKenzie began the Cosmetology program at [BOCES] and accelerated quickly in the program, she gained confidence, poise and more determination than ever before. Today she stands tall and proud of her accomplishments. She is mature, self-reflective and independent. For her senior project, she will be presenting on her mental health struggles highlighting resources for other students.

It has been a journey for MacKenzie that I am proud I was able to witness. The strength and determination this young woman has is remarkable. She is a fighter and after graduation this year she will no doubt go on to do great things. I feel honored to nominate her for the [Town] Youth Hall of Fame Award.

Sincerely,

School Counselor

We were notified this weekend that she was selected as one of two recipients of this award for 2017. Her photo will hang in the town hall for one year. There will be a recognition ceremony next month; I will be sure to share photos.

She really is doing very well. Her grades and attendance are the best they have been in high school. Her commitment to her wellness is unfaltering. And this has been and will be the first year in high school that she has not and will not need to spend time in the hospital. Four years ago at this time we didn’t see a light at the end of the tunnel. But we did not give up. She did not give up. She struggled along the way, nevertheless, she persisted! In less than 10 weeks she will walk the stage at 

graduation and into a very bright, very long, future. And we are so proud!!

Great read

I'd like to think that I can say everything for my daughter, and myself, and mental illness as eloquently or concisely or beautifully as anyone out there. That somehow my words are as strong or stronger or more effective than any other you might read. But that is simply not true. Our story is one of many. Many that we can relate to. Many that speak to us in words better than our own.

This morning I came across the perfect article online to share with friends she has lost due to her anxiety. Words similar to the ones she has shared with me. Words she has not been able to articulate so perfectly herself yet, but I know are in her heart. Words I needed to hear. So today I ask you to read this from The Mighty and think of those around you living with a level of anxiety that we will never understand. And don't walk away. Thank you!

Vacation

It's been a long time coming and I didn't think we'd make it. With everything going on, this vacation we planned in December felt like it would never get here and if it did we would probably miss it. Yet here we are, at the beach. Eight days just the five if us. All five of us. Together. A miracle.

My daughter got out of the hospital on May 20. Can't believe it's been that long already, although some days it feels much longer. Sometimes it feels like everything learned there, everything gained was lost. By all of us. Like we have forgotten what she is dealing with and go back to the everyday, get-through-the-day lives we always had. We forget patience, she forgets her coping skills. We forget her brain is sick and she forgets we support her.

I think her biggest fear is that since she isn't in the hospital that we think she is better. That we think her new medication has solved everything and we don't need to worry about her mental illness anymore. As long as we dole out the proper number of pills everyday and make sure she gets enough sleep, she's fine. It's hard to remind her that we know that isn't true. We know that every day is a struggle. Every day is work. For all of us, just in different ways. Just as we can't fully understand what it is like to be her, she can't fully understand what it is like to be a family member, a parent, of someone with a mental illness.

But we try. We do our best, most days. Most days are good. Most days we are coming into our new normal. A family better understanding and adjusting. Most days, not all days. Many days we argue. Many days we don't want to try. Many days we blame each other.

Yet here we are. Imperfect. All five of us. Together at the beach for eight days. We brought it all with us, but we also left it all behind. Twenty-four hours in and we are enjoying each other again. Carefree and fun. Just what we needed. Re-energizing so that our best days continue to be most days. So that on the bad days, we can forgive each other a little easier. So we can have a little more patience. So we have more better days. This is the perfect reminder that each one of us, all five of us, matter as a part of this family and as individuals. We are the best, strongest, perfectly-imperfect family because we have each other.

This is our life. We are learning to live it. Together. All five of us.

The first day of the rest of her life

I don’t know why it feels that way. She is just out of her junior year and started her job shadowing today. Somehow she is all grown up and still my little girl who needs to be fiercely protected and monitored, watched over like a new baby. And yet there she is. In a salon all grown up and learning as she hopes to soon begin a career in cosmetology.

I have to admit, I am very nervous for her. What if she becomes overwhelmed? What if she talks too much or not enough and the stylists don’t like her? What if she doesn’t answer the phone correctly or forgets to offer a glass of water? Will she feel like a failure? Is she strong enough to try again and again? Or will she want to quit? Will her anxiety overtake her at the worst possible moment? Will she call me crying and wanting to come home early? If not today, when will it happen? Will it happen? What will it mean for the rest of her life? Why am I putting so much worry into one job shadowing experience half-way through her cosmetology education?

I have to remind myself that she is smart. And strong. And talented. And loves this field. I have to remind myself that we are still there when she gets home from the salon and there before she heads out. We are there if she falls and we are there when she succeeds. Because she will. She will struggle and she will excel. She will fall and she will soar. Everyone does. And she will learn how to handle it because we will be there every single step of the way. To support, to encourage, and to celebrate every single step. 

End the Stigma

I believe in the power of words and this Washington Post article is proof of just how powerful they can be. I appreciate the personal stories it includes and am encouraged by the support each person received once they shared their experiences and illnesses.

I could relate to so much of what was said in that article. My daughter has heard it all, especially about being overly dramatic and attention-seeking. My heart broke for her all over again as I read the stories. And I wondered, as a 16-year-old girl, will her peers be as accepting to her as adults have been to those in the article? I hope so, but I fear not.

I believe it is the personal stories that will help end the stigma of mental illness, not just those of the people diagnosed, but of their families, friends, classmates, and co-workers as well. We all are living with the illness. We walk on eggshells and try to console without truly understanding or comprehending the issue. We get verbally attacked and demeaned for not “getting it”. We are expected to come running when needed, but know when to provide space. We hear “I’m sorry” more than anyone on the planet. And sometimes we get blamed for making it worse.

We need to be strong. We need to learn to listen and be patient. We need to accept apologies every time because they are sincere every time. We have a responsibility to support our loved ones with every ounce of our beings. Even when it hurts, because it will. Even when we want to quit, because we will. Even when they push us away, because they will. We need to tell our stories so they know it is okay to tell theirs.

We need to keep the conversation going, to draw attention to the need for better care, not just for the ones we know, but the ones we don’t. Our loved ones, co-workers, friends, and strangers deal with enough most days just trying to be healthy. They can’t escape it. They don’t get a break. They don’t get to walk away from it or go on about their day without it. I don’t think we should either.

We need to be their strength when they have none. We need to listen when the world won’t. We need to be their voice when they don’t have one. We need to step up when they shut down. We need to do more than just listen to their stories, we need to act. We need to make it our job to end the stigma.

We need to do better

It has been a week since my daughter has been out of the mental health unit of the hospital. Last Friday at about this time we walked outside and she took her first breath of fresh air in three weeks. It seems like every day there is an article or report about how mental health benefits of being outside and breathing fresh air, yet there is no place at Strong where kids can do that. With all of the high-tech, stat-of-the-art wings at the University of Rochester’s Strong Hospital, there is no safe place for these kids to get fresh air. I think that needs to change.

I don’t know how to do it. I don’t know how to improve CPEP (Comprehensive Psychiatric Emergency Program), increase staff and space, provide more beds so kids don’t have to wait days to be admitted and begin treatment, or how to provide a safe outdoor space to aid in their treatment, but it needs to be done.

It breaks my heart that the adolescent side of CPEP is always packed. Kids and parents spread out on every piece of worn furniture, leaning on one another trying to sleep while waiting up to 24 hours or more to be seen. Some are sent home, others are held even longer while they wait for a bed to open up in the all but forgotten R wing. It was 48 hours for us.

It isn’t the fault of the staff. They do their best and are amazing. But the need is big - bigger than CPEP and the R wing can handle. Too many kids with an invisible illness that takes on so many different forms. CPEP and the R wing are the only place these kids get a respite from the stigma of mental illness. Where they can let their guard down and be completely honest with one another and the staff who work with them.

Unfortunately, I believe the stigma outside that wing is too great to get the financial support they need to do better, to provide more. That is our job to correct. We need to get the right people involved so we can do better for our kids. We need to be open about mental illness. We need to end the stigma and talk about treatment. And we need to support that treatment any way we can. It starts here. We need to do better.