This is a guest post written by my younger sister, Tiffany, who has a diagnosis of schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type. Once a month, Tiffany documents a single day in her life. The purpose of these posts is to raise awareness of what it’s like to live with mental illness. I’m also hoping the posts will help readers recognize that we all have hopes, dreams, challenges and mountains to climb regardless of our mental health status. If you’d like to read the posts I’ve written about Tiffany’s journey and all the guest posts she’s shared on this blog, check out the mental health page. Without further ado, here’s Tiffany.

I started to feel the Christmas spirit a few weeks ago. Sometimes the world tries to knock it out of you, but I still believe. Personally, I feel that whether a believer or not, the spirit is in us all. All the hustle and bustle over Christmas comes down to Jesus who was born on Christmas day.

I started to hear the Christmas tunes playing around Christmas. I felt something spiritual while listening to that music. Now, just days before Christmas, I turn the radio up super loud and just listen. This season shall pass, but the spirit should remain.

Giving and receiving during the holidays has been important to me the last several years. We exchanged names for Christmas this year. My dad got my name, so I had fun telling him what I wanted from the outlet shops in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. I’m getting a bunch of Nike stuff. My dad was in South Carolina for his health. He hopes to be put on the lung transplant list. The process is long, and he must continue to take care of himself in all ways. Having him pick out my gifts this year was extra special and added to the spirit in my heart. I have my mom this year for the gift exchange. She does more than enough to help each and every day. I attempted to put heart and soul into the gifts I selected for her. I hope she likes them! Giving is just as important as receiving!

I signed up for the toy drive through the Salvation Army, a truly amazing program for kids whose families need a little extra help. My mental health worker usually comes with me to pick up the gifts. Bags lined the room when we walked in. I recognized other people from the area. Raegan got a scooter two years in a row, a three-wheel scooter last year and a two-wheel scooter this year. I asked my mental health worker who the toy drive is targeted at. Should I be doing this? My kids get enough, right? She told me the toy drive is for families like mine whose parents don’t have a very high income, for people who want to do a little bit extra for their kids.

This is a guest post written by my younger sister, Tiffany, who has a diagnosis of schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type. Once a month, Tiffany documents a single day in her life. The purpose of these posts is to raise awareness of what it’s like to live with mental illness. I’m also hoping the posts will help readers recognize that we all have hopes, dreams, challenges and mountains to climb regardless of our mental health status. If you’d like to read the posts I’ve written about Tiffany’s journey and all the guest posts she’s shared on this blog, check out the mental health page. Without further ado, here’s Tiffany.

I woke up feeling like I didn’t want to get out of bed. My five-year-old daughter, Raegan, asked me why we cry sometimes, but tears don’t come out. I told her those were silent tears. I was feeling the silent tears that day.

I told myself, happiness is your choice. Just choose to be happy.

My kids were still sleeping. My mom stopped over with my ADHD medication; she is in charge of giving me my ADHD medication at this time because I had issues taking that medication in the past. That morning, I didn’t feel very beautiful, inside or out. She told me that I certainly was beautiful, and I began to feel a bit better. I felt sad because I don’t get to see my mom very much when she substitute teaches, which she is doing now. We said I love you a few times before my mom left for school. I always tell her to have safe travels.

I continued to tell myself to make a choice to be happy!

My kids woke up a few minutes after my mom left. Raegan had unity day at school. She was supposed to wear orange, but I didn’t look through her backpack the night before to know that. I happened to throw on an orange and blue flannel. Raegan and I argued about what she was going to wear for a while. Nothing I selected for her was what she wanted to wear. Finally, she told me she needed to wear orange for unity day. We found an outfit that had orange in it. The day was definitely getting better.

Off to school we went. We took a picture for unity day in our orange outfits before Raegan went into school.

I kept telling myself, I am happy! The kids are happy, I hope?!

Next, I stopped over at a friend’s place and life started to feel a bit more unified. My friend had just gotten engaged and she asked me to be a bridesmaid in her wedding. I am honored and excited. More happiness to add to the wonderful day!

I can’t remember much about the rest of that day except the lesson I learned:

I must keep telling myself to be happy when I’m feeling not-so happy. Telling myself to be happy every day has helped me ever since.

I remember being happy as a child, but at some point, mental illness attacked my mind. I am living and loving as much as I can, even with my mental illness. My support system is amazing and needed for the mental health issues I deal with on a daily basis.

My psychologist always asks me how life is going on a scale from 1-10. I used to say a consistent 7, sometimes 8. That’s pretty good, right? Along with making the decision to be happy, I also made the decision to reach some kind of 10 each day. That is pure happiness in life. I try to live one day at a time, and realize that positive self-talk is essential for living life to the fullest.

So is the glass half full or half empty? My psychologist and I talk about that sometimes. I told him last time that I already know the answer, so I don’t want to answer. If the glass is half full, then I’m an optimist. If the glass is half empty, then I’m a pessimist. I don’t really know what I am. I just try to turn those pessimistic moments into optimistic ones.

Happiness is your choice. Just choose to be happy.

Thanks for reading, everyone!

Tiffany

This is a guest post written by my younger sister, Tiffany, who has a diagnosis of schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type. Once a month, Tiffany documents a single day in her life. The purpose of these posts is to raise awareness of what it’s like to live with mental illness. I’m also hoping the posts will help readers recognize that we all have hopes, dreams, challenges and mountains to climb regardless of our mental health status. If you’d like to read the posts I’ve written about Tiffany’s journey and all the guest posts she’s shared on this blog, check out the mental health page. Without further ado, here’s Tiffany.

My daughter, Raegan, started kindergarten yesterday. The process of changing routines was a bag of mixed emotions for both of us. I turned my daughter over to very educated, caring and knowledgeable individuals.

Prior to placing the kids in kindergarten classes, testing was done on each child. The kids were placed in rooms evenly, based on their current abilities. While Raegan was being tested, I sat with other parents and filled out paperwork. I had a difficult time concentrating on what needed to be filled out. I noticed my mind drifting at times. Questions needed to be answered, such as “What calms your child?” I was overthinking, including focusing on my grip. I wondered if I seemed out of place. During this process, I was also going through medication changes, so my self doubt was high. I have since started a new medication for ADHD, and am feeling calm.

During the testing, I was attempting to figure out how Raegan was going to get to and from school. I have decided that most days I will be delivering her and picking her up. One of the teachers in the room said to me, “This is Kindergarten, no worries. Everything works out.”

The day arrived when we would meet Raegan’s teacher and classmates. Raegan picked out a pink, black and white dress to wear with one of her favorite sweaters. My mom suggested that she wear her new black boots with the outfit. I did not want to tell my mom that I hadn’t seen the boots around for days. I searched and searched for the black boots and could not find them, so I put some tennis shoes on her and they worked. But my mind was focused on the black boots. They were eventually found at the neighbor’s place.

We left for the night with plenty of time to spare. We arrived at the meet the teacher event, and Raegan went running in front of me. I could sense her excitement and confidence. We arrived too early, so we decided to play outside. A former classmate of mine and his son were playing in the same area. Raegan begged me to play with her. I told her no. She needed to know that I am not always going to be able to walk beside her, holding her hand. Raegan soon yelled, “Hello, I need someone to play with.” The boy on the playground came right over. I was happy she had the confidence to speak her mind. Raegan will fit in just fine.

We proceeded inside and looked at the class lists. We also participated in a scavenger hunt, getting to know the school. We met some of the other kids in her classroom. The little boy she was playing with outside happened to be in her class and sits next to her as well.

There was a letter to open the night before the first day of kindergarten. I decided to let Raegan open the letter on Sunday morning while my brother was in town for the weekend. Inside, there was a letter from the teacher and sprinkles to put under her pillow for a good night’s rest. Raegan placed a few sprinkles under her pillow. Still to be determined what will happen with the rest of the sprinkles.

All preparations for the first day of school.

The first day of school arrived. I set my alarm early so I could get ready before the kids woke up. When I woke Raegan up, she started screaming. She wanted to sleep longer. I’m hoping that school wears her out. We had a wrestling match getting her clothes on for the day.

Then we stopped over to my parents’ place to relax and take some pictures. I left my son, Xander, with my parents and Raegan and I were off to school.

I did not really feel sad, because as I stated earlier, Raegan is being well taken care of. I feel she is ready for this new venture?! We sat with a couple neighbor girls and their moms for breakfast at school. I brought Raegan to her room and said, “See you later.” She was more concentrated on school than saying anything to me.

All the preparations for this big day, my firstborn’s first day of kindergarten, were worth it. Overall, I felt completely comfortable with the day. Raegan seemed to adjust to her new life, and got to be a line leader for having good listening skills. I’m learning the ropes of having a child in school, but still need to conquer the listening skills at home. I anticipate a wonderful year for Raegan. Thanks for reading!

Tiffany

This is a guest post written by my younger sister, Tiffany, who has a diagnosis of schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type. Once a month, Tiffany documents a single day in her life. The purpose of these posts is to raise awareness of what it’s like to live with mental illness. I’m also hoping the posts will help readers recognize that we all have hopes, dreams, challenges and mountains to climb regardless of our mental health status. If you’d like to read the posts I’ve written about Tiffany’s journey and all the guest posts she’s shared on this blog, check out the mental health page. Without further ado, here’s Tiffany.

As some of you know, I have a diagnosis of Schizoaffective Disorder, bipolar type, and ADHD. My mood can change from extreme highs to extreme lows within hours. When attempting to write, I realize how extreme my mood can be. I tend to write best when I am in a neutral mood. After thinking and rethinking throughout a day, I was stoked that I had a blog post idea. I was experiencing mania. When I started to reach a low, I began questioning myself, my ideas and my life. I was ready to give up.

I was introduced to the movie “Rudy” years ago. This movie is about staying motivated even when you feel like giving up. The loud voices in my head tell me I am not good enough. I cannot reach my goals. I am not listening to them today. Today I am writing my unedited thoughts on how important fashion is to me.

During back-to-school shopping for my daughter who is entering kindergarten this year, I started to think more about fashion. Fashion can create a picture of who we are and how we feel about ourselves. Fashion is the image we want to portray about ourselves. My personal fashion ideas vary depending on how I feel and how I want to express myself on any given day.

I tend to dress my children more traditionally. I have found that consistency with their clothing choices works best. I do not always know what is appropriate for them to wear on a daily basis. I tend to mix pieces of my style into their wardrobe. Sometimes family and friends help me pick out my kids’ clothing. For my daughter this year, I allowed my mom to pick out a few outfits that I approved of. I also picked out a few items on my own. My daughter is young, but gradually creating a style of her own.

I attended the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising when I was in my 20s. I had fashion ideas that I wanted to implement. I wanted to open a store called OuiSei. My plan was to complete my degree in Apparel Manufacturing Management. I had everything planned, including a runway show. For the runway show, I wanted animals to walk down the runway with models. I even had music picked out. I wanted the store to include all-natural fibered clothing, mostly hemp.

Guess what happened? I quit. My voices were telling me that I could not succeed. I was also experiencing something that I experience to this day. People promised to make my dreams come true if I’ll only give in to their desires. I do not agree with that way of thinking, and I would rather deal with genuine people who have no motives in mind. Despite my voices, I feel that the world is set up for us to succeed. We just have to be careful who we let into our world.

After quitting fashion school in Los Angeles, I decided to try working in commercials on TV and in movies. I was able to truly be myself during this stage of my life. While working in that business, I loved changing clothing so I could portray different characters. I continue being that person today. I would not say that I have a set fashion style.

I had a very tough time coming up with this post and getting organized. When I am in a certain state of mind, I can’t get organized and I feel like giving up. My dad helped me outline this post. We talked about my ideas over coffee. He asked me at the end if I was going to ever pursue my dream of opening a clothing store? I told him that I don’t know what the future holds. I wouldn’t mind having a store that people could come chill at and look for comfy clothes and accessories. For now, I am going to keep trying, as Rudy did, even if forging ahead seems to be impossible.

Tiffany

This is a guest post written by my younger sister, Tiffany, who has a diagnosis of schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type. Once a month, Tiffany documents a single day in her life. The purpose of these posts is to raise awareness of what it’s like to live with mental illness. I’m also hoping the posts will help readers recognize that we all have hopes, dreams, challenges and mountains to climb regardless of our mental health status. If you’d like to read the posts I’ve written about Tiffany’s journey and all the guest posts she’s shared on this blog, check out the mental health page. Without further ado, here’s Tiffany.

Two weeks ago, I traveled to a bigger city to have intense neuropsychological testing done. I had the same testing done nine years ago when I spent seven weeks in the state hospital after a prescription drug overdose. Doctors are going to compare past and present test results to see how my brain is functioning. This testing helps nail down my mental illness diagnosis and to get additional help in other areas if needed.

A neuropsychological evaluation is a comprehensive assessment of cognitive and behavioral functions using a set of standardized tests and procedures. A variety of mental functions are systematically tested. A neuropsychological evaluation is critical for understanding which brain functions are impaired and which remain intact.

My dad drove me to my appointment. He asked me if I was nervous about the testing, and I told him that I was more nervous about leaving the kids behind for the day. My dad and I talked about music and his time in the service. We seemed to have a very relaxing drive.

We arrived to the testing early. There was a Perkins nearby, so I decided to eat breakfast and drink some needed coffee. After that, my dad dropped me off at the testing site. I was early, so I went for a walk outside and enjoyed the beautiful weather. I felt free in that moment. I was in a bigger and new city. I went back in to prepare for the testing. I skimmed through a bit of a gossip magazine and waited for the doctor to call me back. My dad was eating at Red Lobster during this time.

The doctor called me back to his office and told me to make myself comfortable. I sat in a chair directly across from him. He asked me a series of questions. I was being analyzed. I asked him in the middle of the session if I could take a couple pictures for the blog post I was going to write. He told me no, these tests are confidential. If people were to see pictures, they may try to duplicate the testing or figure out answers prior to taking the test. He asked me a few questions and sent me out to the waiting area. I asked him how I did, with a smile, before leaving his office. I don’t remember his response? Being questioned made me kinda nervous.

A few minutes later, I was called back for more testing. I know that I excelled in certain areas because I felt as though I was playing a fun game. Other parts of the testing were very difficult. I felt frustrated and kind of sad.

After over an hour of testing, I needed a break. I told the lady who was testing me that I needed a five minute break. I may have taken longer? I went into the waiting area and was happy to see my dad sitting there. I told him how difficult the testing was. I was thinking of posting a status update on Facebook, but I did not feel the time was right. Why would people care anyways? So I proceeded to step outside, took a few deep breaths, closed my eyes and lifted my hands to the sky. I probably said a little prayer too. I raced back in because I told her five minutes, not fifteen. I was kinda excited to return to the testing because every new test was a surprise.

When I went back inside, testing continued for a couple hours. I am going to tell you vaguely about the testing without giving away details. The tester started by asking me general questions. Then I had to say words backwards and subtract backwards. She told me a list of words, and I was haunted by the list throughout the procedure. She kept telling me to say the words I remembered; I just heard a list of monotone sounds that I was not interested in, names of people who had no faces. Maybe if she would have let me look at the list, I would have done better remembering? I realized my short term memory lacks. We played a fun game where small keys fit into holes on a pegboard. I felt I mastered that, along with repeating visual images. Then came math. Even if I had a calculator, I would not have done well with that part. Sometimes I would just say, “Sorry, I’m done. I give up on that. I just cannot complete that part.” We ended the session with computer testing, which was around 350 questions.

The results from the testing should be back soon. I look forward to seeing the results. I am having the report sent to my psychiatrist who recommended the testing. I am also having a copy sent to me. My sister, who is a speech pathologist, is going to help me analyze the results. No matter what the results say about me, I am going to continue to live life and take care of business. Having a mental illness and possible cognitive impairments are just a part of me. They do not define who I am as a person.

Tiffany