This is a guest post written by my younger sister, Tiffany, who has a diagnosis of schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type. Tiffany has shared a monthly guest post on my blog since February 2015. The purpose of her regular posts is to raise awareness of what it’s like to live with mental illness. Last month, Tiffany honored our mom’s unique journey through motherhood with a guest post thanking her for all the ways she’s supported my sister from childhood to current day. This month, Tiffany is honoring our dad with a special post for Father’s Day. If you’d like to read all the posts written about Tiffany’s journey, check out the mental health page. Without further ado, here’s Tiffany.

Who is my dad?

Those who have interacted with him know he loves people, always making small talk with people he comes across in life. My dad has always been a role model to me, and I’m sure to others as well. My dad is waiting another month to be put on the lung transplant list. My hope for my dad is for him to live a few more years without having to rely on oxygen. To take walks together, to talk a few more years and to have my dad around a little bit longer.

My dad has always been my cheerleader. I always remember him saying when I was younger and many times now, “Way to go Tiff, you can do it.” His encouraging words always seem to make me feel better. My dad has always pushed me further than I thought I could go. I feel that I succeeded in many activities and stayed strong because of my dad.

My dad worked two jobs while my sister, brother and I were growing up. He was a band director and a car salesman. He always left time to hang out with his family. Our family would have dinner each night and hang out with my dad while my mom was cleaning up from dinner. We would practice our instruments, fly kites, go to the park and play what we would call “tricks.” Our “tricks” consisted of being held up in the air with my dad’s feet and arms. We would sit on his foot and be pulled around, and we’d ride around on his back. My dad was the one who taught me how to pray. He would pray with us, and us kids would fall asleep afterwards.

My dad and I have always taken walks together. Before he was sick I could barely keep up with him. We’d talk about whatever and look at the stars together. One of the only consistent stars I can point out is the big dipper. We still have our talks, which we’ve had since I was younger, but they’re just different now. I am looking forward to the future, so we can take walks and fast walks again.

My dad has been through my life during the ups and downs. After completing my bachelors degree from the University of Minnesota – Duluth, I worked for a few years in Minneapolis. After that, I decided to check out The Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising (FIDM) in Los Angeles. My dad flew out to LA to look at the school and for places to live. I was going to live in Venice Beach.

During one of our trips to the Los Angeles area, we took the bus a few places. My dad was communicating with everyone. I told him that in LA, everyone doesn’t talk to each other. We had coffee at a place that ended up being my favorite in the hood. I left my dad at the coffee place and took off to hang with some new friends. We played music together. Then I went back to pick my dad up.

My dad came to visit a few times during my time in Los Angeles. On one of his lasts visits to me in LA was mass confusion. I was working with Jim Carrey as an extra in an airport scene in a movie, and I had to go and pick my dad from another airport. The people I was working with wanted me to change my wardrobe, and I did not want to stand in the wardrobe line again. I was crying and Jim Carrey asked what was going on with me. The issue was resolved. On my way to pick up my dad from the other airport, the battery on my phone died. I started getting psychotic! My dad was in LA for over two weeks, and I rarely saw him. I get very emotional when I think of our times in LA. My dad always introduces me as an actress. The truth is that I never envisioned myself as an actress. I do NOT have good memory skills. I was pretty good in the background, and I miss all the lights and cameras.

My kids have been able to utilize my dad as a father figure. He enjoys when they’re around if they are behaving well. We are working on that. My dad’s energy is very low right now, but we’re doing what we can. My dad has a boat that we try to go on as much as possible during the summer months. He reads a lot with my kids. He treats my kids similar to the way he raised us, always playing and big hugs and have a good day. I know my growing up years were great. I know that my kids and I are being helped the right way by my parents and others.

One guy in my history of my living has asked my dad for his blessing to marry me. I’ve known for a few years that I was not in the right place to get married, not yet. I wasn’t sure if my dad would be strong enough to walk me down the aisle. It just makes me sad. As I was walking out from an appointment at the hospital the other day, I was thinking to myself that I am prepared to take this journey alone. Then I looked down and noticed a fairly large diamond. I told the hospital I found it, but nobody has claimed that diamond, so it’s mine, I guess?! Either way, I am prepared for whatever God chooses for me. If I could find some guy who treats me as my dad has, maybe I’d make some sort of decision?!

My dad has always been the person in my life who I can talk to without being judged or feeling judged. My dad is a very positive person, most of the time. I have learned a lot from my dad’s style of living. I wish him many wonderful years ahead, full of love.

Tiffany

It’s a pleasure to welcome my younger sister, Tiffany, who’s a mom of two young children. Tiffany has a diagnosis of schizoaffective disorder – bipolar type, and has shared a monthly guest post on my blog since February 2015. The purpose of her regular guest posts is to raise awareness of what it’s like to live with mental illness. Last year, Tiffany skipped her May guest post while the Second Annual Special Mamas series was running. This year, I invited Tiffany to share a guest post as part of our Third Annual Special Mamas series. Today, Tiffany is honoring our mom’s unique journey through motherhood with a guest post thanking her for all the ways she’s supported my sister from childhood to current day. Please welcome Tiffany as she presents our mom with this belated Mother’s Day gift!

Friends. They’ve come and gone. But my mom has been my consistent best friend throughout my life. She has been there during good times and horrible times. She has been there for me even when I wasn’t so sure I wanted her to be there for me. There have been times when I did not want her to see the horror going on in my life. My mom has never given up on me, and I love her because of that.

Life was so peaceful when we were young. We’d take driving trips around the country with my family every summer. I’d watch the minutes pass as I watched the clock and clouds in the sky. We listened to some pretty good music along the way. My mom was always prepared with treats to eat. When we made it to our destination each summer, our days were planned out by my mom. We had consistency in our lives, and we knew what to expect. The opportunity to explore the country gave us great experiences. Many experiences I’ll probably never have again!

Holidays at the house we grew up in were amazing. I remember my mom putting decorations up every holiday. On Christmas, one of the best nights of the year consisted of getting the decorations out and decorating the tree. We were ALL SO EXCITED! We took plenty of home movies. On Halloween, my mom would crawl into the attic where we had costume choices to wear. Most of the costumes were made by my mom. She is an awesome sewer! Once again, we were ALL SO EXCITED! The Easter Bunny and Santa Clause always came to our house with everything set up for pure enjoyment. Those were the days! I am completely grateful for every holiday celebrated with my mom’s help.

Growing up, every weekend was pretty much the same at our house. Wake up with brother and sister. Eat breakfast. Watch cartoons. Play with friends. Then come in for lunch. My mom always prepared the best lunches for us. We had hotdogs and macaroni and cheese often. We also had grilled cheese and tomato soup. Those foods are still some of my favorites. My mom always had the house clean, and I’d have to say that us kids were always pretty happy. My mom gave us love and consistency. She was always there for us.

Riding bike has always been one of my mom’s favorite activities. When we were younger, we’d bike with the family. We’d explore the small town we lived in, and occasionally the kids would get to decide where to go. There was a hill we liked to call “horse hill” because we would often see horses there. Sometimes we’d even get to stop at the Dairy Queen on our bike ride. Thanks to my mom, I still have a love for biking today.

We had a great life growing up, but I had problems with being homesick. If you’ve ever been homesick, you know the feeling? My mom was a teacher at the school we went to for elementary. Many times, friends would invite me over or want me to stay overnight. I had the worst feeling ever, and I’d usually go to the nurse’s office to tell them I was sick. They’d let my mom know, and they’d usually let me knock on her classroom door. Many times, I’d walk back to our house and lay there for the day. I was obsessed with binoculars and would watch the kids on the playground. I was safe. I was at home near people who loved me. I tried to go to church camp when I was around fourth grade. I was so sick! I was SO homesick. I needed to get home, so I told the camp nurse that I was sick. They called my parents to come and get me. Homesickness should be considered an illness. I always came back to my home, where we were completely loved.

I read the following statement recently on a Christian website. As a parent, when our children stumble, we don’t disown them. We may punish or reprimand, but cast them out of the family? We cannot.

As some of you may know, I was back and forth between Minnesota and California during a period of time in my 20s. I made some poor choices during my time in California, but I want mom to know that I always had a friend. At the end of my career in California, I was not sleeping and had so many jobs in the background acting world that I just could not keep up. I was not on any medications at the time, and my mental illness started to really affect me. I put up a fight for months and months. Finally, I called my mom to come and get me. I was super happy because I got to take a trip across the country with my mom. We got to see the beauty of the country together. That’s my perspective, and I’ll always remember that experience. I was all over the place, but I knew I was loved and needed to figure my life out.

My mom taught me to do all things with love, and she’s never let me down. I was in and out of locked places, including a halfway house for the majority of the time I was pregnant with my now five year old. My mom would faithfully drive hours each week to bring me to appointments and visits to the perinatal specialists I saw because of my daughter’s lung complications. I was SO thankful. The visits from my mom were just what I needed to stay optimistic about the situation. She helped me get through a very tough time in my life.

I now have a five year old and a two year old. My mom loves those kids and would do anything to shower them with love, the same love we experienced growing up. My mom is a retired teacher, and enjoys working with my kids. She helps me and the kids in ways I am not the best at. She is in charge of most of my finances. She’ll change that responsibility back to me sometime in the future. My mom completely deep cleans my house a few times a year. She has also taught me to be a good mother. Because of my mom, my daughter now loves to cook. My mom helps me pick out clothing for the kids sometimes. She also helps with the decorating of our home. Sometimes we go out to eat together, or to the park. We are making memories for my kids to remember throughout the years. We are both striving for my kids to have a happy life full of love, a life that I once had.

Sometimes my mom and I are like oil and water, but we always settle our disputes with love. Never does my mom hang up the phone without saying I love you. My mom has taught me the power of love and never giving up. I may not have the strong emotions I once had, but I believe they are still there.

I’ve worked for years on how to explain to my mom how much she means to me! Thank you mom for all the little things you’ve done throughout my life. At the end, those are what matter most. You’re a blessing to me! Thank you for showing me the way when I was lost. Thank you for hugging me and loving me when that was often pretty tough to do. Thank you for understanding who I am as a person and individual, most of the time. (wink) Thank you for helping make a home for me and my children. Mom, I probably would not be living if it weren’t for you. I’m pretty blessed to know that God placed a pretty awesome mom in my life.

 

 

 

This post is part of a month-long guest post series titled Special Mamas. The series runs all May and is in honor of moms who have unique journeys to and through motherhood. To read all 10 posts in the Special Mamas series, CLICK HERE and you’ll be directed to the introductory post. There, you’ll find all guest posts listed and linked for easy reading!

This is a guest post written by my younger sister, Tiffany, who has a diagnosis of schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type. Tiffany has shared a monthly guest post on my blog since February 2015. 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 took the morning off to attempt to find myself. I planned on writing while my son, Xander, walked around the beach. My greatest weakness is giving up on myself. I doubted all the thoughts that were going through my mind. Tears were about to flow out of my eyes, but I have responsibilities and I can’t give up. Not now.

Why is the feeling of happiness so difficult to find so many days lately? I thought I had moved past that feeling of trying to be happy. One of the mental health professionals I work with brought up a good point. “Imagine you’re going to a party, and you keep telling yourself to be happy. How are you going to feel the entire time?” “Probably extremely anxious,” I said. I always seem to be in one of the stages of grief. I asked the mental health professional if happiness can happen while you’re grieving. The next day, I felt a glimpse of happiness in the car with the kids. I turned up the radio and just enjoyed the moment. The secret? I wasn’t forcing the happy feeling. I found that happiness can happen at unexplainable times, in unexplainable ways.

Matthew 7:7 says, “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.”

God works in unusual ways sometimes. The thought of mentioning God and a verse in this post kinda freaks me out. For many years in my life, the thought of religion was a dark place. There are times when I would take religious views to extremes. I am happy to report that over the past few years, despite what is going on, GOD has brought light into my life, even during the darkest moments. Ask and it will be given to you. But God, this is not what I asked for? I know he has a plan for all of our lives.

Seek and you will find. Dear God, please help me learn how to discipline my kids and for them to obey me! I love them to death, but I’m a single parent and this is difficult. The job is hard. Every situation is unique and different. So those who post about mother/father rights, please keep in mind that each situation is unique. There is no right or wrong way. I never expected to run into my kids’ dad at the store today, and he was with his girlfriend. Ugh! I avoided that completely. At this time, there is no need to create additional stress in anyone’s life.

Seek and you will find. Last week, my sister and I, and my mental health professionals discussed ways to effectively deal with my kids. I’m sick and tired of constant tantrums from my five year old over what clothes she will wear each day. We came to this conclusion, and it has been working so far. Organize the room and the clothes that can be worn. Throw away clothes with holes. Get rid of clothes that should not be worn. Pick out the clothing that is going to be worn the next day. This is working so far! What to do about random fits? I am now giving 10 minutes of playtime for every 15 minutes that my daughter behaves. Cross my fingers, that has been working. I need to find solutions, so your feedback is appreciated. I am also working with a professional who teaches “Love and Logic” classes. Her plan is to help me once a week, as long as needed. Pick and choose your battles. Take time, if needed, to say “yes” or absolutely “no.” May I seek parenting solutions and find them. Good luck to me and others on this quest.

Knock and the door will be opened to you. Amongst the nonsensical chatter in my mind, I heard “Tiff, come out and play.” Sometimes, I just want to tell the voices in my head to be quiet. Rarely do they listen, but I have to respect my mental illness, because it’s with me for life. When I don’t feel like I have any friends, I always have the voices. When they asked me to come out and play, I asked them this, “What are we going to do?” There was no need for an answer because I knew all I needed to know. We were going out to play. Whether we were friends, are still friends, or you’ve thought about being friends with me, you probably have memories about our playtime together? At any age, how innocent, how appropriate, how real? I used to knock on neighbors’ doors and ask my friends to come out and play. Now my daughter does that, and soon my son. I need to realize how precious those times are. They just need to be controlled. Because as one of my mental health workers said, if I knocked on people’s doors and asked them to play now as an adult, I’d be locked up in a facility. I have to tell you the truth, I’ve always been obsessed with making random appearances at peoples’ doors. When I was younger, I loved sales. I’d go door to door and learn something at each place. Many times they’d let me in to talk. I usually had something to sell, even if it was spoons glued together and decorated. Those days are gone, but we have to realize the innocence and joy of knock and the door will be opened to you.

My daughter is with a friend for the evening, until bedtime. Once, I wished she’d have friends. Now, she has so many friends. The sun is out and the knocks continue to happen on my door. You know what? Thanks for the knock. You are a beautiful person. Let’s have a conversation. I can handle this. I just need to handle everything with love.

Thanks for reading! Peace out and see ya!

Tiffany

In honor of World Bipolar Day, I’m sharing a post written by my younger sister, Tiffany, who has a diagnosis of schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type. Tiffany has shared a monthly guest post on my blog since February 2015. 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’ve had some major ups and downs with my emotions lately. The word hope has entered my mind a number of times because sometimes that’s all we have. Please join me on a journey as to what my life has been like lately.

My mental health worker came over, and we were discussing how my thoughts are all over the place lately. I can’t concentrate on anything. I’ve been writing short journal entries, but nothing worth sharing with anyone. I told her that maybe all these thoughts will work together.

I met with my psychologist and felt happy to be seeing him. I get to talk and receive feedback from someone who is getting paid to talk to me. He can’t complain about me giving too little in the relationship. He pretty much knows every detail about what’s been happening in my life. He told me that it’s natural to be feeling low self-esteem because of everything that has been happening. After doing a life satisfaction questionnaire, I found out I am around 60%. He asked, “If you had one wish, what would that be?” Hmm…I sat there for awhile. Maybe for my dad’s lung transplant to be done and for him to be healthier again? After leaving his office, I realized this – my one wish would be to be loved for everything I am, and to be loved back in return, in a romantic sense. To have a perfectly-feeling family. What would you wish for if you had just one wish?

My ex-boyfriend just moved back from Montana. We have only seen each other briefly, one day, over the past year, but we kept in contact while he was gone. Some kind of sparkle, or hope, he gave me each day. Last week, I went into Target and walked up to the pharmacy counter. I looked to my right and my ex-boyfriend was standing there with his mom. I said “Hi.” He said “Hi, Tiff.” He did NOT look at me like “I am so excited to see this girl.” I started to shake and felt extremely dizzy. He asked me if I was cold. I said, “No, I am just nervous.” We said goodbye. I walked away and attempted to calm myself down. I was glad that my mental health worker was waiting in the car so I could explain to her what just happened.

After the panic attack in Target, I questioned what I was wearing that day. I did NOT feel comfortable or confident in myself. Why couldn’t I have been wearing something cute, something smaller, something new? Why did my ex-boyfriend have to catch me on one of the worst days of my life? There was no sparkle in his eyes when he saw me. Maybe there wasn’t too much sparkle in my eyes either. I questioned the way I looked. I look in the mirror and don’t see the pretty girl I want to see, the confident girl.

I’d like to share another experience I had in the aisles of Target during a prior visit. Instead of feeling unlucky over everything that has happened, we’re lucky there is hope. I ran into a friend of mine the other day in Target. I had not seen her for a year, possibly longer. I yelled her name and proceeded to walk up to her to talk. She has a boy my daughter’s age who was standing next to the cart. He looked taller, but I could tell that something was going on. She told me her son has cancer, and just got done with a major appointment. That same day, my dad was entering into a five-day series of serious medical testing. I just looked at her with tears in my eyes. We exchanged numbers and proceeded on. The next day I called my friend and explained to her that I wasn’t really sure what to say about her son and the cancer. She said, “No, you’re fine!” We decided we’re going to get together soon. We seem to adapt when life doesn’t take us on the path we have planned.

One day I was having a bad morning. I spoke with a family friend who calls me often, especially when my parents are out of town. I was so stuck that morning. Stuck in my head. After we talked, I called a good friend who brought sunlight into my day. I took some time to pray after talking to her. That moment I felt free of anything holding me down. I felt confident that everything was going to be alright.

A few days this month, I was feeling hopeless. I always think of my kids, and they seem to give me some kind of major hope. I walked around outside my town house and asked people what gives them hope everyday. I was moved by the responses. I asked my daughter first. Her hope is to play with friends everyday. I guess I wish the same thing, but I enjoy spending time with her too! Another girl’s hope is for her mom to not put so much pressure on her, and to not be so angry. She wants to go to college and be a scientist. A younger boy hopes for a good education and wants to get through school. As adults, our hopes for each day change. Maybe they don’t, depending on our situation? We are all unique and have our own way of perceiving life. A couple adults I talked to just wanted their kids to be okay, or for their kids to behave, or to just make it through one more day. My mental health worker sat with me as I was analyzing the idea of hope. She asked me what hope I had for my life. After a few minutes, I came up with this – to feel happiness, to live in harmony, friends and family who understand me and allow me to be myself, good health and proper support, respect and inspiration.

Sometimes I just sit and stare off into nothingness. Some days I keep busy as much as possible. Everything depends on the day and what’s going on. Sometimes hope is all we have. No matter how old we are or who we are, we all have hope for something. A friend suggested to find hope one day at a time. Having expectations for any given situation can leave a person hurt. When there are no expectations, anything that happens is alright. So find a little HOPE to get through the day.

Tiffany

This is a guest post written by my younger sister, Tiffany, who has a diagnosis of schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type. Tiffany has shared a monthly guest post on my blog since February 2015. 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 was a freshman in college, sitting in Psychology 101, towards the back in the middle. I looked right and noticed a new friend. She was hip and had short hair. She walked by and sat in the middle, right hand side.

I lived in a dorm for athletes. I wanted a change, so I asked to be put on the waiting list for a dorm transfer. Guess whose room had an opening? That cool girl I saw in Psychology 101. Sure, I’ll live there!

That cool girl and I became very close. One day she was sitting on the roof. I was on the ground below. We had some simple conversations and began to understand each other.

That cool girl has been there for me through so much.

That cool girl had an idea to write notes to each other in a journal. We sent that thing back and forth for months.

That cool girl drove through a winter storm with me. We were off track a bit, but we made it home.

That cool girl was there to listen when I was pacing, screaming and crying on a roof in Venice Beach, California, telling her every detail about what was going on. Not understanding why life was like that. She had a plane ticket to fly to Los Angeles to hang out. That would have been so much fun, but I was not in the right mindset. She cancelled her plane ticket.

That cool girl knows when something is just not right with me. And, usually yes! She is right.

That cool girl is the one who taught me how beautiful friendships are. We don’t see each other too often, but we keep in touch. Thanks for being a friend!

Tiffany

This is part of a month-long series on friendship titled Love Letters to Friends. To read the rest of the posts in the series, CLICK HERE and you’ll be directed to the series introductory post. Scroll to the bottom and you’ll find all the posts listed and linked for your reading pleasure.