Why is this true?

A friend sent me a link this morning which has made me both sad and angry.

The article was printed under the title 'No One Brings Dinner When Your Daughter is an Addict'.  And it makes my heart hurt.

The author's wife was diagnosed with breast cancer.  And, as is right and proper, the family received support from friends, church, work colleagues.  People rang, people talked, people cooked dinners.  Lots of dinners.  Lots of support.

Time moved on, and his wife recovered.  Then a new crisis emerged, when his daughter was admitted to a psychiatric hospital and diagnosed with bipolar disorder.   As is common, his daughter had been self-medicating with drugs and alcohol.

No dinners.  Much less support, from far fewer people.  The family essentially faced the pain on their own.

Until his daughter was involved in a car accident - on her way home after treatment.  Her injuries were physical - and food and comfort were provided.

Why?  Is there a perception that mental illness is catching?  Is it a question that somehow the families of people with physical illnesses  deserve support, while the families of those with mental illnesses or subtance abuse problems don't.  The pain is very real in both cases.   Cooking a meal for the family doesn't condone drug or alcohol abuse in my mind - instead it says I am sorry that you are going though a difficult time, and hope this helps.

Or am I being unreasonable?

Wot I did on my Holidays

Firstly, I was immensely grateful for all the support I received from you lovely people in the blogosphere.  Thank you.  It meant a great deal to me.

I read a lot more.
I have eaten good dark chocolate.
I have enjoyed wine. 
I slept more.
I finally got the last of the spring bulbs squeezed into the ground.
I wandered around the garden, smiling as things poked through the soil, and admiring the blaze of autumnal colour.
I marvelled at the first hyacinth, blooming two or three months too early.
I watched the birds.
I watched, played with and laughed at the cats.  The self same cats raised my blood pressure.
I have washed the kitchen floor far too many times since a certain cat (thanks Jazz) has decided to pooh in the kitty litter tray and piddle on the kitchen floor.  Regardless of how many times I change the kitty litter.  Grr.

Jewel has claimed this green shopping bag as her own.  She even hides her acorn shells in it.  When Jazz attacks her as he is doing in this photo she shrieks for support and bites down hard on his ears.  Win/win.

I went to the dentist - clean bill of health (hooray).
I went to the doctor.
I had a pap smear - clean bill of health (hooray).
I had a blood test.
I got called back to see the doctor - and had to wait over a week to get in.
No clean bill of health.  Dammit.   I have been diagnosed as hypothyroid (an under-active thyroid), and my liver function isn't all it should be either.  Oh joy and bliss.  The doctor tells me that my likeness to a barrage balloon, my fatigue, depression, brain fade and the fragility of my nails are all likely to be linked to the under-active thyroid gland.  And my rapidly increasing girth could well be the reason for my reduced liver function  (think foie gras).  Most of these symptoms are shared with MS so I had assumed that it was at fault (again).
More joy and bliss.  Yet another medication to take.  For the rest of my life apparently.  And, for the moment, they are insisting that this one be taken on an empty stomach - two hours before any food.  I love my early morning cup of tea.  Next stop a visit to a specialist - towards the end of next month at an estimated cost of between $250 and $750.  Have I said joy and bliss yet?

The smaller portion got a call from the hospital.  His next, and hopefully final surgery, is now scheduled for the 19th of this month, with a pre-admission clinic on the 13th.  He tells me his sister is likely to come down to stay with us again.  Joy and bliss.

I was on call for Lifeline.
I did a shift at Lifeline.
I was on call again for Lifeline.  Suicide in progress - fortunately averted.  A successful but stressful night.
I spent a Saturday monitoring, nurturing, coaching and assessing a group of fledgling counsellors who are close to completing their training and going onto the phones (under close supervision).
I went to a meeting for Lifeline.  After dark.  I resent this.  After dark is bed time.

We bought a car, since our current car is old enough to vote and has some idiosyncratic quirks like needing the dashboard to be thumped (in the right spot) before the fuel or the temperature gauges work.  The speedo is a rule unto itself.  The new one is likely to come into town next week - just in time for himself to enjoy it for two or three days and then not to be able to drive it for six weeks.  I don't drive, but the car will be quite happy in the garage waiting for his return to health.  Or his sister can drive it.

I think I need another holiday.

Graffiti

On my way to LifeLine yesterday I saw some graffiti at the bus interchange which has haunted me ever since.

I WOULD RATHER CUT MYSELF THAN CUT YOU.

With a drawing of a hand and a knife beneath the words.

The Smaller Portion's response was a glib 'I would rather he/she did as well'.  I would too, but just the same I have been thinking about it ever since.  What do you think?

R U OK?

September 15 is RUOK Day.   RUOK day aims to help reduce the numbers of people who take their own lives.

A little while ago Gemma invited me and other bloggers to join her in posting on this important day.  And it is a topic that is very close to my heart.

There have been times (and will be again) when I have been decidedly not OK either mentally or emotionally.  Once during a very bad patch, knowing I had the house to myself for a week or so, I spent days sitting on the floor ripping paper into ever smaller pieces, neither eating nor sleeping while the piles of confetti built up around me.  I was lost, could not see any future, and certainly thought it would be much easier for me (and for others) if I was dead.  I had a plan and the means to kill myself.  In the end apathy saved me.  I didn't want to live, but dying required action which took more energy than I had at that time.  So I lived. Mostly I am glad, but still sometimes in the throes of what I call the 3am horrors I wonder.

It always appalls me how easy (and fast) the descent into the depths of despair is, and how agonisingly slow and hard it is to climb back to something approaching sanity.  When I have hit the bottom I have always felt both that I was alone, and that it was up to me to get myself out again.   A feeling which was and is almost certainly wrong. True, no-one had asked me if I was OK but it was equally true that I had not said that I was having trouble coping.  Not sensible of me, but I have learnt (the hard way) that I am not sensible at these times and that I am prepared to go to some pains to conceal just how bad I am feeling.  It appears that this subterfuge is a skill of mine, so the people around me cannot be blamed for not noticing that I need help.

It is much, much easier (and still not easy) for me to admit that I am having physical problems than it is to make the same admission about my mental or emotional health.  On those issues, if (and it is a big if), I admit that I am struggling I really mean I am teetering very close to the edge.  I have known for some time that this is dishonest and hypocritical and preparing this post has led me to make a promise to myself that I will ask for help when I need it next.  A promise I hope I can keep. 

My second reason for participating in RU OK? Day is less directly personal but no less heartfelt.  I have been a telephone counsellor with Lifeline for nearly fourteen years.  And I have learnt some horrifying things.

Suicide numbers in Australia are currently falling slightly.  However, according to the latest Australian Bureau of Statistic Causes of Death report, 2130 Australians took their own lives in 2009, and:
suicide is the leading cause of death for women aged 15-34;
suicide is the leading cause of death for males aged 15-44;
and more Australians die from suicide than on the roads.

Frightening isn't it?  And I assume that suicide is under rather than over reported.  These are Australian statistics only, but I would be surprised if the percentages were very different in any of the westernised countries.  Every suicide impacts on so many people - family members, friends, peers, co-workers and the community at large. 

There are circumstances (particularly given our euthanasia laws) where I can both understand and accept people choosing to end their lives.  However, even when a person has a terminal or an incurable illness which is degrading their quality of life, I hope that palliative care options are looked at before suicide is identified as the only option.

Other reasons for suicide, including struggling with mental illness, lack of acceptance of a person's sexuality, relationship break downs, loneliness, financial issues and the like worry me more.  A lot more.  And I firmly believe that there are alternatives to suicide available for most people.

In Australia there is on average a suicide attempt every fifteen minutes and a death from suicide every four hours.  In my time at Lifeline I have talked with many, many people who have attempted to kill themselves, and about the same number who were actively considering it.  More rarely I have talked with people who were in the process of committing suicide.  I have also talked to people who have lost friends and family through suicide.  I have wept with and for these callers.  Heartbreaking calls, some of which will haunt me forever.

A common thread has run through my conversations about suicide with callers.  Almost without exception the callers did not want to die, but could see no other way to make their pain stop, regardless of whether that pain was physical, mental, emotional or a mixture of some or all of those things.  Pain, teemed with desperation and a loss of hope is truly dangerous.  And, rightly or wrongly, the callers often consider themselves to be alone.  Which is why it is so important to reach out to people we think may be struggling.

Of course we will never be able to eliminate suicide.  Nonetheless, talking, and much more importantly listening to people who are in pain is hugely important. So, a simple question to someone you are worried about could be the start of a lifesaving journey.

Listen to their pain.  Allow them to express their fears.  The first step, of acknowledging just how bad things have got, is the hardest.  And takes a lot of courage (which should be acknowledged and affirmed).  And it is only when their pain has been heard, and perhaps shared that the first small glimmers of hope can creep in.

Hard as it can be, don't try and solve their problems for them.  Accept that they are doing the best they can, in very difficult and frightening circumstances. 

You could summarise what you have heard, and ask them what they plan to do. It may be that they are not ready to do anything just yet.  Nonetheless, being able to express their pain and their fears without being judged can be a very powerful healer.   If they don't know where to start getting help for themselves but feel ready to take action you could suggest a few places which might provide a resource for them.

The appropriate resources are obviously going to be as individual as the person but some which may be of assistance include family, friends, school and other counsellors, doctors, religious groups, mental health crisis services, hospitals, relevant support groups, and/or

Lifeline (131114), 

Kids Helpline (1800551800),

Beyond Blue, 

Sane Australia.

Encourage them to take one step at a time.  And follow up.  Let them know that you will contact them, later today, tomorrow, or next week to see how they are going.  Nothing can change till someone acts - and you could be the catalyst for lifesaving action.

Who are you going to ask RU OK today?  And not just today, but each and every day.