A Day in the Life of Terri Dueck

Today, on "Bell Let's Talk day", I'd like to introduce you to Terri Dueck.... a 10-year old girl living with extreme anxiety.  I am loved deeply by my parents.  I am smart, cute, and athletic.  I live in a beautiful house in a beautiful neighborhood.  But I am different than a lot of other kids my age.  I have a mental illness.  And here's a story about a day in the life of 10-year old, Terri Dueck...

Mrs. West is about to hand back our Creative Writing stories.  I worked really hard on this.  Really hard.  Because being creative doesn't come easy for me.  Math?  I will kill it.  It makes sense to me.... equations make sense.  I don't have to ask "why?" because there are rules.  And I like rules.  I am a rule follower through and through.  Creative writing?  There are no rules and it's very tough for me..... especially because I'm a perfectionist.  At 10 years old, I want everything I do to be perfect.  And I want to please my teacher very much.  When I get my paper back, there is a big, red, C+ at the top.  Instantly tears fill my eyes.  I am completely and utterly shocked.  This is the first time I have ever received a mark that wasn't an "A".  I'm blinking furiously so that no one sees me crying.  My face is hot, which means it's also red.  My heart starts pounding.  Oh my God.... I hope no one sees me looking like this.  I tell myself to calm down and quickly hide my paper.  I would be mortified if anyone saw that grade.

I manage to get through the day and get out of the school as fast as I can when the time comes.  I am in tears before I can get across the bridge that connects my school to the back alley that will take me home.  By the time I'm home, I'm hyperventilating.  I'm alone until my mom gets home at 4:30.  I cry and cry until my head is aching and my eyes are swollen... and then my mom comes home and it all starts again.  There is nothing she can do to console me.  Nothing.  It is unbearable to me and it doesn't matter what she says or does right now, this is REAL - it is heartbreaking and devastating.  Finally, something gets through to me... she says, "let's ask Mrs. West if you can have another chance to write it.  Maybe she'll let you do that."  Ahhhhhhhh..... a solution.  A slight relief.  And then.... the worrying instantly begins.  "What if she says 'no'?"  "What if I'm stuck with that mark?"  "What if I can't do any better the second time?"....  My mom needs to make dinner and I am calm enough for now.... I go downstairs to watch some TV while she cooks.  I need something to numb my brain for a while.

I turn the on the TV and it's the news.  I watch for a second as they tell a story about a young boy in Vancouver who has AIDS.  He's pale and he looks really, really sick.  I don't know what on earth AIDS is, but it looks bad.  I change the channel and find something else to watch.

After dinner, I need to have a shower for school tomorrow.  I have a long, hot shower and when I get out, my legs are red and patchy.  I panic!!  What is wrong with me?  Why are my legs like that?  This hasn't EVER happened before.  What if I have AIDS????  I yell for my mom and she comes bolting through the door.  I show her my legs and tell her I think I must have AIDS.  I don't even remember what she says, but I know it involves some serious patience and reassurance.  She gets me calmed down, somehow.  I still don't know why my legs are like this though.  There must be SOMETHING wrong with me, but Mom says I don't have AIDS, so at least it isn't that.

It's bedtime.  I HATE bedtime.  I say goodnight to my parents and climb into my perfectly made bed.  It's 8:30 so I have an hour and a half to fall asleep before my parents turn the lights off and go to bed.  I have to fall asleep in this time or I know I won't sleep at all tonight.  I am running through my mind how I will approach Mrs. West tomorrow.  She will probably say no.  My wheels turn and turn and I start to get anxious because the clock is ticking and soon it will be 10:00.  I have to fall asleep right now! 

It's 10:00 and I can hear my dad locking the front door.  Soon the lights will go out and my parents will go to bed and I will be all alone in the dark.  My heart starts beating rapidly.  The boy with AIDS flashes before my eyes.  At 11:00 I get up to check my legs again.  Phew, they look normal.  But maybe if I cough really loud, my mom will come check on me and give me one more hug and a little bit more reassurance.  Maybe, she'll lay with me.  She doesn't know it, but on the nights she lays with me, I fall asleep easily.  In fact, she doesn't know that most nights I am awake almost all night.  I stay in the bathroom about 15 minutes coughing.  I guess she is sleeping pretty soundly because she doesn't hear me and I finally give up and go back to my room. 

I wedge myself between the waterbed mattress and the wooden frame.  I do this every night.  The frame is solid and it makes me feel somewhat protected.  I will NOT sleep.  Because if I sleep, I won't wake up.  I KNOW this with all of my being.  I will lay really still and ignore my pounding heart.  And when my dad gets up at 4:30 and turns some lights on, I will sleep for 2 1/2 hours before school.  I can always nap tomorrow after school.  That's pretty routine for me. 

It's morning!  I must have fallen asleep... I hear my dad and my uncle Pete having coffee, as they do every morning.  Ahhhhhhhh...... relief.  I made it.  I un-wedge myself from the waterbed and get up.  My body is aching and stiff.  Ouch.... everything hurts terribly.  I didn't move an inch last night.  My bed is still perfectly made, just as it is every morning of every day.  All I have to do is tuck in the small corner where I slept last night.  I feel really tired and I hope I don't drift off during silent reading. 

I get ready for school.  I get dressed in the outfit I picked for myself last Sunday when I planned out what I was going to wear for the entire week.  I feel normal right now.  It is the only time of day that I feel this way.  I feel.... almost happy.  The sounds of my home are all around me - my dad just left for work, my mom is getting a coffee, my brother is in the shower, my other brother is still sleeping, but I know he's right below me.  And then..... the usual.... the thoughts....My wheels start turning, just like a hamster on a wheel.  "I hope I don't walk into the classroom to see a mocking picture of me on the blackboard again this morning.  I hope I have friends today.  I hope Mrs. West gives me another chance.  I hope she doesn't laugh at me......"  ...And today is another day in the life of a 10-year old girl with anxiety....

Sidenote about my anxiety:
My parents didn't know I had "anxiety" because mental illness wasn't talked about back then.  Isn't it a gift that we can talk openly about it now?  We are aware of what it is and how we help those who suffer with it.  My son has General Anxiety Disorder.  I can feel passionately and deeply for him.  I have great empathy for what he goes through because I went through it myself.  But even if I hadn't, I feel strongly that because we are educated today, I would recognize it and get him help.  Thank you, Bell, for supporting this day that has intense meaning for me and my family.

What is it with girls and horses?

The story of a girl and her horse.... and a mom and her anxiety.

Our daughter has been dying to have a horse for as long as I can remember.... she asked, she pleaded, she begged... but I was petrified.  This is a HUGE animal that I know nothing about.  I'm kind of afraid of big animals.  Then she met darling Paisley and they played "horses" almost every day at school.  In the most unbearable of moments, she (we all) lost Paisley and she became Arielle's angel.  Losing Paisley intensified Arielle's yearning for a horse.  She wrote stories about Paisley and Wally.  She drew pictures of "her horse".  And she began to dress the part - the riding jeans, the belt, the hat... the only thing she was missing was the horse.  And then along came Christine, my lifelong friend, and now, co-soccer mom.

Day one at soccer and Christine's got the "perfect" horse for us.  I ask, like, a billion questions.  And my anxiety is peaking already.... I cannot possibly think of how we can do something this HUGE.  Chris says we can try the horse out.  I'm secretly hoping that Matt says NO, but he DOESN'T.  Doesn't he know that I don't really want to do this, I'm only asking because I want him to be the bad guy?  And then, just like that, Chris has the horse delivered to her house for a 10 day trial.

Arielle is over the moon, but I'm preparing her for the fact that we probably won't be able to buy this horse.  Where would we put it?  What does it eat?  How the hell do we take care of it?  We don't know the first thing about horses.  Does she realize how insane this is?

As we drive to Christine's, I am literally telling myself to "calm the fuck down" because my heart is racing.  When I drive into Chris' driveway, everything is familiar.  My childhood friend's home looks exactly the same as it always did.  Except it doesn't, because I have to drive down to the riding arena and I am so out of my element here it's not even funny!  I'm asking myself questions like, "where should I park?  To the left where there are no cars?  Or to the right with the other vehicles and horse trailers?  What if I'm in someone's way?".  I choose left.  There are no cars over here.  I text Chris.... we're here.  She doesn't answer.  Now what?  Do I just sit in the car?  I have to look confident in front of Arielle.  I need to show her that she doesn't need to be scared of new things.  But I'm freaking out.  "Do I look stupid?  Am I wearing the right clothes for this?".  Chris texts back and says to head down to the arena and she'll be there shortly.

And there he is... Frankie.  You know the moments on TV where the angels sing "Hallelujah" and the sun shines through the clouds just perfectly?  It's like that.  This horse is big.  And beautiful.  Or handsome.  Whatever.  He takes my breath away.  And my baby girl's face lights up.

Christine is a true pro.  Wow!  She teaches Arielle how to walk around him, how to brush him, what all the parts of his big, huge, beautiful body are.... and she is simply amazing with Arielle.  I've known her my entire life and I have never seen this professional side of her.  This friend that I have admired and looked up to for 40 years has just as much charisma with little girls and horses as she does with adults.  Maybe more.  I'm awestruck.

And for a moment I think I can do this.  I can figure this out.  I'm smart and kind and I love animals.  .... and then something awful happens.  His dink comes out!  And Christine tells us it needs to be cleaned.  What. the. actual. fuck????  Christine tells Arielle, "you've gotta clean his dinker.".  And her face.... is shockingly HILARIOUS!  I'm thinking that this is definitely going to be deal breaker for her.  Thank GOD!

We get home and she's all smiles.  Like ear to ear type and just cannot wait to tell her dad.  I feel like puking.  All I can see is that god awful (HUGE) dink.  She beams as she tells her dad every detail of our visit - every tiny tidbit about Frankie.  And then I remind her of  "THE INCIDENT".  But she doesn't even flinch.... and oh my god, what am I going to do?????  She doesn't even care about THAT???

After the kids are asleep, Matt and I lay in bed and talk about this decision we most clearly have to make.  I tell him I'm scared to death of this.  But he is the confident man that I love and depend on and assures me that we'll be okay - Chris will teach us.  And the decision is made that we want this horse.  Frankie.  The guy who is about to change our whole world.

Fast forward three months..... I know where to park at the riding arena now.  My heart doesn't pound out of my chest every time I enter the arena.  The ladies at the arena are some of my favorite people in this world - they are open, accepting, helpful, fun and are quickly becoming people I can feel very, very comfortable with.  I reconnected in an amazing way with Christine, who has always been like a sister to me.  But now, we have another bond over a horse named "Frankie Anderson Painter Spencer".  We belong here, at Laz-E-P Equine Centre.  I feel it.  I'm overwhelmed by it and it is literally bringing tears to my eyes as I look back and see what we've learned and the fears I've overcome in a short three months.

We brought Frankie home two nights ago.  We know how to brush him, saddle him, feed him, clean his hooves, and LOVE the shit out of him!  (We don't know how to clean the DINK yet.... but we'll learn.  Insert huge EYE ROLL here.)  Matt worked his ass off preparing a spot for him.  We bought a horse trailer and it's the cutest little thing you ever did see!  We went to gymkhana, and I didn't even know what that was 2 months ago!  Arielle can rock the poles for a little girl who just learned to ride.  Even I've ridden him.  And now I can lope without screaming.

Frankie is home.  This is where you'll find him for the rest of his life.  And during the last 48 hours, if Arielle hasn't been standing right next to him, you'll find her looking out the window watching him with hearts in her eyes.  This has been so. much. more. than just buying a horse.  It's incredibly satisfying to say that we were able to make our baby girl's dream come true.

A note about anxiety....

Five years ago, this would never have been possible.  I would never have entered that barn, even though my lifelong friend was standing by my side.  My anxiety would have overcome me and I could not have done this for my baby girl.  Thanks to the right medication, the right friend who called me out on needing help, and the love and support I have from my husband and my family, I was able to push past the anxiety, walk through those barn doors, and make a dream come true.  <3

Really real.

It's about to get really real up in here.... hey, "perfect moms", you need to avert your eyes right NOW!

This post is in dedicated to my friend who recently found out that she can not have children.  And before I continue, let me say that I am, in no way, trying to make light of her situation.  I simply want to show her a reality that many parents don't reveal to others.  I want to get real with her. I want her to know that although I love my life and my kids, that sometimes I yearn for her life.  I think it's a fact of nature that she will be curious about my life the same way that I am curious about hers.  She will not experience what I do... but I will never experience adulthood the way she does.  I think we always wonder about what we cannot have.

The pretext (in other words, don't judge me okay?) to this is that I would fight to the death for my children.  I love them more than I thought I could love another human being.  Sometimes I love them so much it hurts.... But then there are the OTHER times.....  This is an excerpt (sort of) from an email that I wrote my friend when she received her news.  It's taken me months to have the courage to post this here.

For you, my dear friend....

The stark reality of having.... children.....

The fighting between my kids is INSANE!  As a parent, it's enough to drive you freaking crazy!  The other day I literally yelled at them, "Shut the Fuck Up!  SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP.!"  No "mom of the year award here"...

After I had Arielle, I had postpartum depression.  I cried while rocking her, I cried while feeding her, I cried in my bedroom, my shower, and on really bad moments, I would curl up in my closet and cry.  When Arielle was about three months old, Matt came home from hockey to find me sitting on the stairs in our entry.  I left.  I told him, "I don't want this life.  I don't want you, I don't want them, and I don't want any of this.".  I came back, but I didn't want to.  I intended to go to a hotel because I was too mortified to go to my parents house or my best friends house.  But I forgot my wallet, so I had to go back.  When I got home, he was crying.  I knew I'd hurt him but I didn't really care.  Postpartum depression is an absolute bitch.  It can really fuck up your life.

I have not been out on a date with Matt in months.  We rarely get any time alone together.  We have to force time - it doesn't usually happen naturally.

Speaking of time.... Arielle slept with us for 9 years.  Imagine what that does to your sex life!  And honestly, my kids literally suck the energy out of me anyway.  My sex drive is the shits.  The last thing I want to do at the end of the day is give another person my energy.  Another thing that is sometimes forced...

My schedule goes like this:  Wake up... usually say (out loud), "FUCK.", get ready (I never do my hair because that would mean showering which would mean getting up 10 minutes earlier and I NEED those 10 minutes), get the kids dressed for school, sign permission slips, hot lunch orders, etc., pack their bags, leave for work, work, drive home, drive Arielle to skating (two hours EVERY day), take Nate to therapy or curling while Arielle is skating, watch some skating, pick Nate up, drive home, try to make something healthy for dinner (these days, I'll go for just making SOMETHING), get the kids showered and in bed, go to fucking bed because I'm so exhausted.  I don't have any time for myself.  I only socialize at the arena or if one of my lovely friends is so kind to come and visit me at my house.  In that case, they have to be a great friend because I look like shit, I'm in my jammies, and I haven't showered in days.  I consider myself really lucky to have those friends.

My kids are absolute pigs.  Arielle's room is a disaster ALL. THE. TIME.  She actually had the nerve to ask my mom to clean her room.  So... not only is she a pig, but she is also spoiled.  Nate has three weeks worth of dishes upstairs or in his room at any given time.  There is rotten milk in several of those dishes.  When I ask them to clean up, they tell me they hate me and that I'm mean.

When you have kids and you go on vacation, it's all about them.  I would LOVE to spend on entire day on the beach or next to the pool just reading a book.  But NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.... they want you to fucking play with them.  I hate playing.  I have no idea what one doll says to another and I hate the money sucking pit of Pokemon cards.  No, Nate, I don't want to play Pokemon.  *insert eye roll here*

You have never experienced guilt like "mom guilt".  I feel guilty all of the time.  When I don't play with Arielle, I feel like shit.  When I yell, I feel like shit.  When I tune out as Nate tells me about his Pokemon "catches", I feel like shit.  When I ask for help, I feel like shit.  When Arielle doesn't get 10/10 on her spelling test, I feel like shit.  When Nate doesn't make eye contact with someone, I feel like shit.  Get the idea?  You ALWAYS feel guilty as a mom.

When you have kids, your marriage is tested beyond your imagination.  Suddenly you have these two pasts with two different parenting styles and backgrounds that have to come together and figure this shit out.  I tend to be an enabler and Matt tends to be really strict.  Too easy and too strict have yet to meet in the middle.  And we're over half way through it!

Who I am friends with largely depends on who is willing to put up with my kids, specifically Nate.  Needless to say, we have very few close friends.  I'm okay with that, I guess.  But, I have drifted apart from some friends who were once dear to me because they don't get it.

Kids are money suckers and energy suckers.  We would have a lot more money if we didn't have to pay for sports, therapy, school supplies, school clothes, toys, extra plane tickets, and most recently.... a horse.

Other moms are sometimes awful.  There are judgey moms, cliquey moms, bullying moms, and condescending moms.  There are PAC meetings, boards of directors, this committee, that committee... all things that you SHOULD be a part of.  And all these moms mixed together is nothing more than a big shit show!

And lastly.... I love my kids, but sometimes I don't like them.  And sometimes I don't like me when I am with them.  We are all unique individuals and I firmly believe that they are born with this raging little personality just ready to explode!  And when they do, we really pay the price....


So......now that I've put all of that out there, I want to reiterate that I wouldn't change a single thing about my life.  I love my children more than anything.  But, what I wanted my friend to know is that it's not all peachy keen over here.  It's fucking hard.  And sometimes I look at her life and wish that I could be doing the things that she is doing.  I yearn for the freedom that childless people have - I sometimes imagine how different our lives would be.  It matters not what path you've gone down, you will still yearn for the "other life" sometimes.  And my advice in these moments is this:  Simply choose happiness and gratitude.

The Cocoon

Matt and I have begun heavily weighing Nate's options for grade 8.  We are starting early because this is a huge decision for us as the effect it will have on Nate could be profound.  This decision is one that I welcome insight to, so please feel free to share your thoughts with me.  I will not accept judgement though... because until you have walked in my shoes and seen the battles I have faced beyond closed doors, I do not feel that anyone has the right to judge our decisions.

Nate is currently in Grade 6... we are coming to the end of another wonderful year at Devereaux Elementary, where Nate has had the privilege of working with the BEST of the BEST.  The staff at this school have gone above and beyond for Nate and, I believe, they truly care for him and his well being.  The most important move we've ever made for Nate's emotional health was to this small, rural school.  There are so many reasons why this is true.... I cannot summarize them all in this blog, but it may tend to be lengthy, so bear with me.

To give you quick picture of his transformation, I will say this:  Nate was ignored, bullied, mistreated by a teacher, blended into the background, "checked out" of learning, and his diagnosis was denied by those involved with him.  He wasn't given time or attention.  He had no friends.  He was simply just "there".  He was depressed, speaking of taking his own life, and living under a veil of doom and anxiety.

Most of that has changed... The staff at Devereaux took the time to know him.  I would even go one step further and say that they love him.  They have established special programs and adaptations for Nate.  His social skills have bloomed - he has friends, both boys and girls!  And although he still struggles with learning, he feels safe when he goes to school.  I would go as far as saying that Nate is happy, about 80% of the time.  He still has his ups and downs and emotional struggles, but the support he receives has made him able to bounce back more quickly from his low times.  He doesn't remain sad for long and has received a ton of support in navigating conflict.  He looks mostly "normal" from the outside.

Particularly relevant to Nate's success...  the kids out here are different.  I can say that, having seen and experienced both.  The experience we have had with the rural kids that attend Devereaux is that they are more compassionate and accepting.  They are all equals and have always treated Nate as one of their own.  I have a deep respect for these children, their parents, and the staff at Devereaux as a combination of these individuals has made the culture at this school what it is.

So, how can all of this positive change lead to a struggle with this decision we are facing?

Nate has been in a cocoon of sorts.  He has been loved and protected fiercely by the staff, his friends, and, of course, his parents.  I do not believe he will receive the same tender affection at the middle school, comprised of 100's of students.  Some of the same students who bullied him.  The same students that circled him and took turns pushing him down.  The same students that told him they would find our home and burn it down... that they would kill his family.  The students that had him up night after night in trauma because he believed it would never end and it would be "his fault".

Which brings to me to the fact that at some point in our lives, we all experience such adversity.  I did.  Not to the degree at which Nate experienced it, but to a degree that makes my heart ache when I think about it today.

I know that some would argue that this adversity is part of life.  And we have to learn to deal with these conflicts so we can handle them in the real world, when we become adults.  However, my internal thought struggle makes me wonder....

That time when I showed up to school to find my face drawn on the chalkboard with the words, "Terri, the Joker" written underneath it.  And while everyone in the class laughed at my shocked expression, I cried in the girls washroom because I had no idea what I had done to deserve this.  Did that make me a better person?

That time that the cool girls, once my "friends", excluded me from dates at a friend's trampoline and numerous bike rides.  And as if the exclusion weren't enough, they rode back and forth in front of my house until I asked if I could come along to which they blatantly turned me down.  And I agonized over who was I going to eat lunch with the next day and whether tomorrow might be the day they would befriend me again.  Did that experience help me navigate friendships in the real world?

When my "best friend" decided that he didn't like me anymore and stopped speaking to me until we were adults... for a reason I still don't know or understand.  And this came at a time when I needed him most... because my heart was broken and I was struggling with dark thoughts and secretly cutting myself because I was in so much pain.  Is the fact that I remember this so vividly that I am shedding tears as I write helping me in any way as an adult in my late thirties?

I believe that the answer to all of these questions is a resounding NO.  I have always been sensitive and compassionate.  This can be attributed to a combination of my DNA and the way I was raised.  My mom taught me to fight for the underdog.  These situations brought me nothing but sadness.

So, based on my own heartbreaks and the heartbreaks that I know every teenager faces, how can I consider sending my son to a place with the bullies that he still speaks of by name?  To a place that he already asks about with fear and anxiety?  The place where my heart, and the hearts of so many others, were repeatedly shattered.

There are alternatives, of course.

We could register him in a private school where he will start all over again.... trying to know other children and make friends again.  And will he have the social and emotional support here to guide him through the obstacles that he is bound to face?  Will he, perhaps, face the same struggles or worse at a private school?  Of course, there are no guarantees...

Or, do we consider home schooling him?  Where he will likely NOT experience these types of stresses.  We are committed enough to ensure that he maintains his current friendships, however, he will be missing times of adversity and lessons to be learned from those times.  Are we keeping him in that cocoon to his detriment?  And is this even financially possible for us?

So, you see.... we struggle with a decision that I agonize over daily.  Every time my head hits the pillow.  Every time I speak to a professional that Nate works with.  Every time I look at his sweet face and remember the times that he cried in terror at night....  And I have absolutely NO IDEA what is going to help me make this decision, other than talking to people with insight.  People who care.  Maybe you, too, are agonizing over this decision?  Or maybe you have already had to make a similar decision?  The only thing that is certain at this point, is that we will do the best we can.

Trauma and Tenacity: Swingle Clinic Part II

We've been in Vancouver for a week now and it's been a great experience so far.  We've re-connected with several people we met in the waiting room last time (in the waiting room) and it's been nice to touch base and see how they are making out.  We are trying to get into the city groove as much as we can and the weather has been cooperating with us, for the most part.

Nate was sad to find out that the majority of his appointments would be working on reading.  I wasn't aware either and when I found out, I was worried about how it would go.  It has been surprisingly great!  Nate's sessions include wearing glasses that flicker lights when his brain waves are not in the ideal state.  When they get to the desired levels, the lights turn off and a sort of "white noise" can be heard through the headphones he is wearing.  The idea is to frustrate him a tiny bit while in a learning environment so his brain learns what to do.  Reading is tricky for Nate because of his learning disability, so this type of biofeedback can be very successful for him if all goes well.  

The first few days here were rough on me.  Nate was very defiant and saying, "NO" to everything I asked of him.  He was grouchy and uncooperative, which is unlike him.  I always tell people that I usually just have to "look at him mean-like" and he does what I ask.  However, the first few days were completely different!  I discussed this abnormality with Dr. Swingle who explained to me that they were working on the frontal part of his brain associated with persistence and they may have "over corrected".  Dr. Swingle was on top of it and, after seeing Nate, assured me that this was the case and that they had taken care of it.  And, sure enough, they did!  No more defiance.  Not even once since that moment.

I'm having many proud mommy moments as all of the technicians have told me what an enjoyable and cooperative young man he is.  *sigh.... my heart swells*  Several have also told me how much his reading has improved already since last week!  I can't wait to see if this transfers to his classroom environment.

When we leave our sessions, Nate is noticeably happier than when we went in.  (I wonder if it's because we are STILL climbing six floors of stairs to get to each appointment?)  I have also noticed that his anger spells have decreased SIGNIFICANTLY and when he does get angry, he is very quick to apologize.  I can tell he is truly concerned about how I feel and wants me to know that he is very sorry for what he's said or done.  It makes me feel relief.  I can see his happiness shining through and isn't that all we ever want for our kids?  Their happiness?

As for me, I'm experiencing treatments first-hand, although, they are much different than Nate's.  The first on my list was to tackle the trauma marker at the back of my brain.  Dr. Swingle felt it was very important to increase the Alpha waves here and have my brain release the emotions related to the trauma.  All of the technicians explained to me that if I had any emotional "outbursts" just to recognize the feelings and sit with them.  I felt prepared.  My treatments consisted of closing my eyes and listening to some relaxing music.  When my Alpha waves increased above a certain threshold, I would hear a soft horn.  I was told to passively listen to the horn.  I am not one to be able to take a nap but I must have almost fallen asleep 5 times in my first session.  I say "almost" because the technicians cannot allow me to sleep or the treatment isn't effective.  It's so absolutely relaxing.... and I am thinking about the last time I sat and relaxed for 45 straight minutes without looking at my phone or being interrupted by a child (or husband).  It makes me realize that I definitely need more of this in my life.  And I mean daily.

The second night, as I'm laying in bed next to Nate and just staring at him (you know that creepy mom-stare you do when you are thinking that you had NO IDEA that you could love a human being THIS much?), when I start to cry.  Like sob.  And suddenly I have this thought of this HUGE fight Matt and I had when Nate was around two.  (Sidenote - Matt and I have since learned how to "fight" properly and keep in mind that this was pre-medication and a full-blown mental illness for this girl.  I'm not apologizing for this by any means.  Matt and I still fight.  We think it's important but now we do it "right".)  It was a full-on screaming tantrum with psychotic Terri throwing things... that broke....  And suddenly my baby boy was wrapping his arms around my legs and pleading, "Sorry Mommy, Sorry Mommy" repeatedly.  He thought it was his fault and in that instant, my heart broke.  Of course I explained to him how mommies and daddies sometimes have fights and that it had nothing to do with him, but I felt deep grief and guilt in that moment.  I hadn't thought of that in years, but suddenly here it was.... and I was sobbing.  This may or may not be my trauma marker... it's not what I thought it might be.  But it affected me deeply.  And since then, Dr. Swingle has informed me that I have numerous trauma markers that we will be dealing with.

After that first night, I have had several of the same treatments and no emotional issues.  We have now switched it up and are working on increasing Theta waves which will correspondingly increase my stress tolerance.  The treatment is more like Nate's this time - flickering lights and white noise.  Not as relaxing, but still 45 minutes of "Terri Time".  I'm enjoying it.

I will say that I haven't noticed a big change in myself.  Having said that, I'm realistic.  I'm in artificial circumstances right now.  Nate and I are living a pretty relaxed existence.  I'm still working when I can get a decent internet connection but there is no morning routine, I am sleeping in, I don't have to rush to work, there are not numerous drives in and out of town on often icy roads, there are no skating practices to deal with, no grumpy daughter issues, no lunches to make.... you get the idea!  I'm excited to see how I do in the real world.

Nate and I are utterly exhausted (wow... now I get it!).  And we have a whole week to go!  Yesterday we sat around the apartment instead of going to Science World.  Nate built Lego, we played a few games, we watched a movie and we had tacos.  We are now counting down the number of appointments until Matt and Arielle come visit us this Friday.  Our plans include Science World and the Canucks game!  #weareallcanucks

In the meantime, we are going to enjoy our little vacation from "lifing".  I've told Nate how immensely proud of him I am for working so hard on his reading.  I'm recognizing every little change.  I'm also remembering that when we get home there will be hard work to be done breaking behavioral habits.  But, we are going to nail it.  Watch us.

What is a Swingle Clinic?

Nate and I are currently spending two weeks in Vancouver while he attends appointments at the Swingle Clinic.  As my awesome friend Phoebe asked, "What is a Swingle Clinic?".... I got thinking that the more people I can tell about this clinic, the more people might possibly be helped!  So here goes!

We were introduced to the Swingle Clinic last spring by a friend who had taken her child to Vancouver to have treatments.  I googled the clinic and once I read about Dr. Swingle's history and training, I was sold!  We made appointments for October 2016 and next thing I knew, we were on our way!

We arrive at the Clinic and the first step for Nate is a 19 point brain map.  The brain map identifies areas of the brain where the brainwaves are not functioning at optimal levels.  The technician, Stef, attaches 19 monitors to Nate's head through a special cap.  Once these are attached, we can see his brainwaves on the screen.  Stef leads Nate through a series of exercises where he keeps his eyes open, closes his eyes, or performs a task, such as a math problem.  Once the testing is done, the data is analyzed and we meet with Dr. Swingle.

Dr. Swingle is an elderly gentleman dressed in slacks, a button-up shirt, and suspenders.  His office is decorated with certificates in psychology, biofeedback, and neurology, and many others.  We instantly feel at home, as he jokes around with Nate.  He proceeds to look at the numbers and describe Nate to me as if he has known him as long as I have.  It's incredible, really.

As it turns out, Nate has certain areas of the brain where the waves are not at optimal levels (as we all do).  Some of the characteristics of his measured levels are his unwillingness to let things go, his predisposition to depression, his difficulty with reading, writing, and spelling, and his inability to regulate his emotional responses.  We also learn, that although it is just a label, Nate also has Attention Deficit Disorder.  Dr. Swingle has treatments designed to help bring the brainwaves closer to their ideal levels.  And that's what we are here for!

The next step for Nate is to see a technician.  And here is where I wouldn't have believed how powerful the brain is if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes!  Nate is attached to some monitors and sits in front of a screen.  The technician monitors Nate's brainwaves while he plays a game.  But he does not play this game with his hands.... he is literally playing it with his brain!  He likes the game that simulates Pacman the best.  Here's the kicker... Nate's brainwaves must be at certain thresholds in order for his Pacman to move.  When it moves, he hears an audio response.  As such, his brain is rewarded in two ways!  It's quite mind-blowing!  This process is called Biofeedback for the Brain.

We spend two weeks in Vancouver and Nate attends three appointments a day.  By the last day, we know everyone at the clinic and Nate has some favorite technicians.  The people involved with this clinic are phenomenal!  And so is Nate - he's reached level 60+ in the pacman game!  He's exhausted and we are both ready to head home and leave rainy Vancouver behind us!

Almost immediately upon returning home, we notice that Nate is still quick to have emotional reactions, but he has an almost as quick realization of his reaction.  He quickly apologizes for reacting in anger.  And he does this every time!  We have realized that even though his brain has changed, he has some behaviors that need to be dealt with.  This we can work on!  In addition to what we notice, his teachers notice that he can more easily deal with tough situations without shutting down.  This is HUGE for Nate.  Our family notices that he is talking a lot more and he has a lot of fun things to say!  Matt and I notice a definite willingness to read small bits of writing all on his own!  And his reading has improved!  All very positive changes for our big guy and the rest of the family!

All of this is justification to attend the clinic again, so here we are back in Vancouver!  Dr. Swingle has indicated that nothing is "going sideways on us", which I think means we are seeing good progress.  Something new has emerged as well - Nate has what Dr. Swingle calls the "Artist's Signature".  This means he has the ability to visually see things through.  He strongly feels that Nate's artistic ability has not "shone" because it hasn't had a chance to being that Nate's anxiety levels have been so high.  I'm looking forward to seeing this in the future as his other learning areas become easier for him.  He is currently working hard on reading (his least favorite thing to do).

I figured that while we are here, I've got my own work to do!  Yesterday I had a brain map done (a five point brain map for me) and I learned a lot!  Turns out I have a trauma marker, likely a very old one.  I don't, of course, know what this trauma was, but I could probably nail it down to one of two things that I'm not ready to blog about just yet.  In addition, I have markers for stress, difficulty sleeping, short term and visual memory problems, obsessions and perfectionism.  My Alpha, Beta, and Theta waves should look like this:

-------
         -------
                   -------

But they actually look like this:

--------  -------  ---------

Interesting, isn't it?

Yesterday I began treatments to increase the Alpha waves at the back of my brain and release the emotional trauma stored there.  Last night I bawled like a baby at a silly movie.  Today I am just plain exhausted.  Plus it is rainy and gloomy here, which doesn't help.

In my adventures with the clinic, I have met some really awesome people in the waiting room.  Kerry at the office remembers me because I am "the one that talks to everyone".  I'm not sure what she's getting at here.  ;-)

Some of the stories I've heard are incredible.  I spoke to a man about my age who was in a workplace accident and was hit in the head by a piece of steel.  He suffered endless migraine headaches to the point where he physically could not function.  He was not active in his role as husband and father and spent his life on the couch.  He lost all physical strength and couldn't so much as pick something up.  He was considering taking his own life when someone told him about the Swingle Clinic.  As of the time we spoke, he was physically stronger and was only experiencing about one migraine headache a week.  He was given his life back and was incredibly grateful.

I also met a lady who had experienced physical and emotional abuse her entire life.  She felt completely worthless and was taking large doses of anti-depressants to function.  She was in her sixties.  After receiving treatments, she told me it was the first time in her life that she felt self-love.  She was working on reducing her anti-depressants dosages and living happily without contemplating suicide on a daily basis.

I share these stories because they impacted me and made me see the versatility of what biofeedback for the brain can treat.  Dr. Swingle treats everything from anxiety and depression to head trauma to neurological conditions, such as autism.  It is not a cure, by any means.  However, we are grateful because in a time where we needed help and we didn't know where else to turn, the Swingle Clinic was introduced to us.  We have seen changes in Nate that I don't think we could have accomplished any other way.  Nate may "hate" coming here for the hard work it brings, but I hope that someday he will thank us!  As one of the doctors said.... "I will throw anything and everything at my child in hopes that it will work.  About 70% of it probably will.  The other 30% probably won't and maybe it's simply crazy.  But at least we tried everything".

Let's Talk

Today is a significant day for those suffering from mental health issues.  Bell will donate $0.05 per use of the hashtag #BellLetsTalk.  I feel grateful that people are talking about mental health and, as such, thought it would be fitting to show some gratitude in honor of today.

Thank you....

Thank you to my parents who struggled through a pre-teen child with a completely irrational fear of death.  Thank you for enduring the sleepless nights and endless tears, for taking me to the hospital many, many times for many, many "symptoms" that were all in my head, for praising me when I finally made it through a night in my own bed, and for recognizing my fear and not minimizing what I was going through.

Thank you to God, who showed up for me in grade 9 when my friend passed away and I felt a wave of security pass through me and I knew, without a doubt, that my friend was in a good place.  And suddenly, my irrational fear of death was gone.

Thank you to my brother and his incredible wife for introducing me to the concept of depression and educating me on what people go through when they have a mental illness.  For showing me that I was wrong in my belief that people were "lazy" and they should simply take control of their lives and just "do something about it".  Thank you for not treating me like an ignorant fool when you easily could have.

Thank you to Shalom for cleaning up after me after I threw a movie at Carl because I could not control my rage and, instead, blamed Carl for everything that infuriated me.  Thank you, Carl, for being the brother you are.  I love you.


 

Thank you to my incredible friends and family who have stood by me through some ugly times.  To those who didn't scoff at me or pass my depression off as something I could control, you have no idea how much this means to me.  For me, being scoffed at or minimized is one of the most difficult behaviours I've had to endure because it makes me feel shame.  So, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.





Thank you to the sweetest teenager who hugged me tight when I returned to coaching volleyball after a miscarriage that sent me deep into the throes of depression.  I think of this moment often, Kristen, and remember how mature you were at age 15 and I hope you know how much that moment meant to me.  I will remember it for a lifetime.

Thank you to my husband who stood strong the night I decided I did not want this life.  The night that my newborn Arielle would not stop crying, Nate was going through a bout of night terrors, and I decided that I simply could not do this life anymore.  And I left you crying on the stairs of our front entry.  Thank you for being there when I got home.

Thank you to the people in my life who I can say anything to without fear of judgement.  From, "I can't watch the news" to "I quit drinking"... and you simply respond with acceptance.  I also thank these people for laughing with me when I talk about the way I obsessively count, send you an "apology" text, and make jokes about being crazy.  I think it's good to laugh about these things sometimes and I'm grateful that I have people who will laugh alongside me.

Thank you to my mom who has taught me that it's okay to talk about depression and anxiety and that we should be real and vulnerable because you just never know who needs to hear it.  Thank you, mom, for preparing me for the changes that are to come and for the comfort of knowing you will be here to help me through it.

Thank you, my husband, for enduring the many items thrown at you in my fits of rage.  From the keys that stuck in the wall next to your head to the plate of spaghetti that smashed all over the kitchen cupboards, counter, and floor.  And to my mom who walked in at the very moment when I fell to the floor sobbing and simply looked at me with compassion and cleaned up without saying a word.

Thank you to my doctor who explained to me that depression is not always "the blues".  That anxiety, excessive worry, irrationality, insomnia, and rage are also forms of depression.  And thank you, more than you can imagine, Doc Ashwell, for seeing that I needed a prescription and making that happen for me.  My life is forever changed because of you.

Thank you, God, for allowing me to recognize these tendencies in others and offer them grace.

Thank you to my best friend Michelle who has never faltered, who has always loved me in spite of my crazy, and who has seen me at my ugliest.  You are so incredible for standing by my side all these years, despite my many changes, my ups and downs, my absences, my controlling nature, and my worrying.  You are a strength that I know I can always count on.




Most of all, thank you, Matt.  Matty, you have stood by me through thick and thin.  You never allowed me to leave you when I thought you deserved so much more than me.  You endured some tough times with me when a typical man would have left.  You stepped up with parenting, respected my needs, and committed 100% to me and our life.  I know it hasn't been easy for you.  I'd like to think that the last five years have been our best and it will only get better from here, my love.

And finally, thank you to anyone who has read my blog or facebook posts and reached out to me to tell me that you, too, have experienced feelings like these and that I have touched you in some way.  You are the reason I write.

#BellLetsTalk