Saturday, December 24, 2016

When My Head Hits The Pillow~

Its been awhile, I know---I haven't forgotten, in fact, I often feel the urge to write as soon as my head hits the pillow-when the quieting stage of my brain seems most futile. I suppose if I got up and actually wrote, I would have a new post daily, but, I choose nightly to persevere in the pursuit of sleep-a keeper of the mind, of sorts.

I hope all is well with my dear writing friend's here, I think of you often, truly.

All is well here, though the road hasn't always been kind and easy to travel, nonetheless, that was then and this is now-change, which I'm thankful for.

I don't talk with many people about various things in my life, but, I couldn't give a rats ass for how many times I've heard, "you just get stronger."
I'm very grateful for the few that cared enough to say it, however, I don't feel stronger at all, in fact, I've just gotten really, really--good at shoving all the painful memories and images of situations far away. I know its wrong, I feel it to be so, but, I need to cope, really, really--need to cope. This I dare to do to myself-
until my head hits the pillow.

Believe it or not, besides the unkind journey along broken roads, I have, and my family has, found the light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak, for now. Least of all as far in the stage of dealing with a loved one with depression. I know in my truthful heart its not the end, I know this struggle for my daughter may follow her into the future, but I try hard not to think of it, breathless I become with heart ache when I do. I try to think of  (right now). Because right now....I have the best part of her change in a smile, and in my heart, in the days leading up to the day we find here.

So, with a full heart, close to 1:00 am in the morning, the night before Christmas eve, I wish you all loving roads and paths and...a wonderful Christmas and New Year, from my family to yours.

Love Dee~

Monday, October 24, 2016


The subject of psychology is interesting. My daughter and I have had long evening talks over coffee regarding people and psychology. And not so long ago we sat one evening on her bed and studied with her flash cards for an upcoming psychology test in a class at her university, at which, taught this old lady a few things about the parts of the brain and what they're functions are. Course, I'll never remember all that she can absorb in her studies, she's quite impressive in that way---however, I will remember my quiet thoughts later on how ironic it all seemed that she was studying psychology when, it is (she) whom waits, sometimes frantic, for mental health help.

I'm not certain if I understand fully the dynamics of our Canadian mental health system and it's ability to make vulnerable people wait such long stretches of time to get help. This alone makes one measure they're own worth. I know because my daughter has mentioned it a few times since July.
 I (do) understand however, there's been an alarming increase of people of which need help, and clearly not enough professionals specializing in this area in growing communities across the province's.
 My major concern is, how long is too long in waiting? What will those signs look like when the need gets desperate? My nineteen-year-old daughter has been waiting in cue for a follow up appointment with a referral to a psychiatrist almost going onto the fourth week without a call. Clearly the psychologist that my daughter finally saw thought it in my daughter's best interest to refer her to a psychiatrist to deal with her antidepressants---but when?

As for our family doctor, he's been exceptional about seeing my daughter every two or three weeks. It appears to me he's watching over her, of which I'm very grateful for, however, its been said by the psychologist that, our family doctor doesn't specialize in antidepressants, therefore it leaves us in the mercy of a waiting list for whom does. Meanwhile, I watch good days and bad days, and take both my blood pressure pills every day, because she needs me.

Tonight she walked out the door into a dreary night of rain. She had class at the second campus down the freeway. She wore that knit toque again, the one she wears when her hair isn't going right. Her make up looked perfect, but she would tell you different. She spent most of her time in her room before she left, mostly likely mastering a look of her own approval. I shoved a ham sandwich at her before she left, fully knowing what prevails of her bad days-no lunch, no dinner-and off she went, soulful face of someone struggling to find the reason for living, pushing herself out the door reluctantly.
When her car lights left the driveway I broke all the other times of helplessness. But this time I was furious! furious at a system with which appears to allow our youth and adults slip through the folds of suffering. Yeah---I was pretty pissed off tonight! And then I got a call from my daughter who was now on campus-

"Hey mom? remember that psychology test we studied for? I got 82%!!!!"


Friday, October 21, 2016

The Valley~

The rains have come.

 The clouds stretch across the valley like a blanket-weeks on end, holding us in under the heaviness of it's weight. Oddly enough, the people of the valley move about normally, least how it seems, taking strides to overcome the dreariness that befalls their windshields with a simple flick of a wiper.

I forget what the mountains look like, the clouds hover and loom so low. It is when the clouds eventually lift that one sees the mighty landscape for real, leaving it not to imagination, nor, a string of dreams anymore.
Has it been so long since I've seen the mountains that winter befell it before my eyes? to the highest peaks- there's to be snow so radiant---that a rare sun blushes all over it in the most loveliest pinks, while the floor of the valley calls upon us with a mild fall and winter of rain-to the lower mountain level with clouds that cling~


Sunday, October 9, 2016


Every now and again when she walks out that door.... I think I won't see her again.

The waiting for appropriate mental health care can be such a risk to families, an every day risk, to be honest, one of which makes me feel utterly helpless over. Meanwhile she's medicated, but the cost of side affects are high every time the family doctor decides to up her dose-and she's frayling on a long weekend of which we can do so little about. She's frustrated, I'm frustrated-how the hell am I going to save my daughter? how?
 They said she'll get a call, but when? how long? meanwhile the mercy is with our caring-family-doctor, who doesn't specialize in antidepressants.

I want to scream. I want to do more for her. I want to save her for god's sake!