Tag: Death

2020, Personality Types, and Life – Mental Health

yellow fireworks
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Today is January 4, 2020, and you might notice I am only now addressing this new year and new decade. Honestly, it isn’t born of laziness or lack of want, we’ve had a less than perfect holiday season. I will spare you all the details as it is not something I am willing to discuss publicly, only to say we had a death in the family.

Moving on… Today I spoke with my oldest daughter about New Year’s Resolutions and personality types. I doubt anyone will be surprised to know I fit the “Rebel” personality type. Outside of all my wonderfully adorable inadequacies, the foundation of this definition is based on how I feel about resolutions, as in I don’t believe in setting myself up for failure. I prefer mantras to remind me about my goals. Since this method worked during 2019, I think I will continue along this path until it proves as a failure.

I’ve read several self-help books. Brene Brown is one of my favorite gurus. She speaks from earned experience. Mark Manson is another author I read regularly. His approach involves comedy. I am making my way through Malcolm Gladwell’s Talking to Strangers. Soon I will get my hands on While We Sleep: Unlocking the Power of Sleep and Dreams by Matthew Walker, Ph.D. I suffer from chronic insomnia and I’m hoping this book contains a magical cure. Every time I pulled a book up on Audible it spoke to me, giving me advice on a current problem in my life.

Now, I will let you in on my not-at-all unique life strategies.

#1. Most importantly – Do unto others as you would have done unto you. This is a fairly universal belief regardless of choice of religion or lack thereof. And, simplistic in its nature, anyone can understand the Golden Rule. If you want to be respected show respect. Want civility, be civil. Want kindness, be kind. Want honestly, speak truthfully and reserve your judgment.

#2. My favorite – Perfection is rare so concentrate on being better than you were yesterday. If that means you are suffering from depression and haven’t gotten out of your pajamas in days, change into day clothes, even if that is a t-shirt and sweats. Strive for a shower the next day. Make your bed the next. If you falter, try again, because you will falter and that is okay.

#3. Great advice – Do the right thing, especially when no one is watching. The example I use with my daughters is, return your grocery cart to the basket lane. If you decide you don’t want an item already in your cart, put it back where you found it. Of course, this mantra is to be applied to much more difficult tasks. Tell the truth even when it’s easier to lie. I suppose, just hold yourself to a high standard. Exceed expectations. It is important to remember, outside of black and white issues, what is right for you in one situation may not be right for others.

#4. Self-awareness – Be wary of judgment. The judgment of others and the judgment of yourself. We all fall victim to gossip. Everyone has moments of self-doubt. Recognize negative thoughts and work to reverse them. Just because everyone “does it” doesn’t make it okay. If we all make an effort to speak kindly the world can become an easier place to live. Be nice to others and be nice to yourself.

The Four TendenciesWhile I reread this article, I realized it sounds as if I am preaching and I don’t mean to. However, if something mentioned helps another individual then that is a good thing.

According to The Four Tendencies: The Indispensable Personality Profiles.. my refusal to set resolutions, to claim they set me up for failure, and some other crap, I am a Rebel. This is okay. The strides I’ve made in the last year are numerous. The last two weeks tested everything I’ve worked to accomplish and for today, I’m still fighting to be better tomorrow.

 

In the Begining – A Mental Health Nightmare

adorable baby baby feet beautiful
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My life is amazing. It is full of people who love and care about me, I’ve been married twenty-five years this month, I have two beautiful grown daughters–almost 19 and 24–who brighten my days, my parents are still married and support me in many ways, we own our home, two furbabies drive me crazy but make my days more enjoyable, we aren’t hurting for anything, save our son who died in 2003 at the age of five. This is the trigger that sets everything in motion.

A parent should never have to see their children die. Simply put, it just isn’t fair.

A parent’s mourning never ends and I wish I could say it gets easier, but for me, it hasn’t. Memories plague my mind. They also warm my soul.

Depression has always been a part of my adult life, even before the death of our son. However, the trauma and tragedy of his passing triggered an entirely different set of symptoms. My ability to continue on with life stopped. A year later I lost a great job, one I loved with all my heart and soul. Yes, I went on to get an even better job, but eventually, I lost that one too. This would become a cycle until the day I couldn’t fathom walking outside of my house and into a workplace.

Happy DJ

The day DJ, my son, left this earth to meet his Maker I was taking a final exam for my Community Nursing course. I remember it as if it happened yesterday. We were presenting projects for our exam and the class ran late. Three of my best friends and I jumped into my car and headed for home. My husband called and told me I had to get to the hospital as soon as possible and provided very little information other than something was deathly wrong with our son. Without thinking, I turned on my hazard lights and stepped on the gas pedal.

Any police officers could follow me to the hospital and give me a ticket there.

We shot past cars, only stopping at a red light to let one of my friends out so she could jump in the car with her mom. She was heading out of town in just a few hours.

Even as I think about it now, my heart races and my stomach fills with pterodactyl sized butterflies. Horror washed over me as we entered the emergency room and were escorted to a private family room–reserved for the worst cases. My son had stopped breathing while taking a nap. The paramedics were able to restart his pulse but he had to be put on a ventilator.

Things you should know about my son:DJ a few days old

  • He was born 15 weeks early, weighing 1 lb 5 oz.
  • His first home was the NICU unit at the trauma hospital. He lived there for three months.
  • His lungs were not fully matured and he spent about six weeks on the ventilator.
  • One of the ventilators vibrated fiercely to keep his lungs expanded.
  • This caused him to have a bleed in his brain.
  • At age 3 he was diagnosed with cerebral palsy (actually, we knew this much earlier but, at the time, cerebral palsy could not be diagnosed until age 3.)
  • His fine motor skills were the most affected. He rolled, crawled, pulled himself up on anything he could reach, he even climbed. He talked, laughed, and cried. He smiled and made friends with anyone he came into contact with, except his physical therapist. She made him work and he loved being babied.
  • With the brain bleed came many surgeries: the insertion of a VP shunt into his head to relieve any extra pressure, a permanent feeding tube, a fundoplication–a type of hiatal hernia operation–two more surgeries to replace the initial shunt and another to add a second shunt.
  • He had seizures. He had headaches. He projectile vomited for the first three years of his life.
  • Even with all of these issues, he loved fiercely and unconditionally. He taught us all many lessons about life. And today, as I write this, I am smiling at the memories.

My son always had an experienced caretaker near. If my husband or I weren’t home, he had grandparents. He also had, at the age of three, a personal assistant. I roll my eyes thinking how he twisted the two girls around his finger. One of the PAs had put him down for a nap ten minutes previous to my husband coming home and found him only minutes later.

To shorten this lead-in to the tumultuous times ahead, he walked into God’s arms that night in the spring of 2003. Our hearts shattered, our family shattered, my daughters suffered more grief than any child should.

To be continued…