Stigma Shmigma Part 2

This journey has continued to be difficult and I still have days where I just cry.

Its been almost a year since I shared Part 1 and I am finally ready to share this part with you, not for sympathy, but for education and realization of the kind of people who are really affected by stigma.

April 28th, 2014 is the day I made the hardest the decision of my life. After Carissa's suicide attempt and almost losing her we started looking at a different approach. Long term treatment. After a few months of doing my homework I found Project Patch (http://www.projectpatch.org/). I won't bore you with the details involved with getting her accepted to this amazing place but it was a pretty emotional and intense process. Having to relive so many details of the last couple years over and over.

The day had finally come for us to drive up to this place and have an interview with staff and counselors to see if we were a good fit. Packing her things from the list of approved items that morning and trying so hard not to be emotional. I held it together pretty well like I was just not really accepting this was happening. But I figure sometimes that is ok so that we can get things done and I knew focusing on those emotions would hinder myself from being productive.
Getting in the car I remember looking at my daughters face and wondering when would be the next time I would get to see it. Looking at all her features so as to memorize her face, as if I could forget. Yet I was still doing it. Her piercing blue eyes, olive skin with a slight hint of freckles, and a smile that could brighten any room.

This was my daughter and I was going to hand her over to complete strangers in about 3 hours....ugh. The program is 12 to 14 months long with visits every 8 weeks, and home leaves just a couple times. Getting through the intake interview was shockingly "normal" for me, I had done this at least 20 times in the last few years. Every new doctor, psychiatrist, counselor, and every admit to the mental facilities. Then it was time to say good bye and leave without my daughter. I cannot really express with words the ache in my heart as we drove down what seemed like the longest driveway ever. I just wept and could not stop.

Trying to move on with daily life and be present for the other 5 kids who needed me was very hard and often days I just failed miserably. Being afraid to really reach out and talk to people because of what they might think. Yes I am guilty of worrying about that crap too. So many times people would ask me a simple question in regards to what was "wrong" with my daughter, and I would feel so guarded. I would try to answer without answering if that makes any sense. The emotion was almost like being ashamed but I honestly wasn't. 



This is part what stigma does to people, makes them feel ashamed. I mean mental illness is a very real issue, and there is no cure. Every person who struggles with a mental illness has to fight every single day just to live a "normal" life. Whether it is going to school or work, they are afraid of being judged. This is why now I speak out and I don't honestly care what people think anymore. So read this sentence and etch it into your brain...people are not defined by their diagnosis, they are human, they have hearts, feelings, and emotions just like you do. A person should never be referenced with the word "IS" as in she is bipolar. The correct term is "HAS" as in she has bipolar. Simply because she is not bipolar, she has bipolar disorder...big difference.



That is all.