While many people are often shocked to hear what I have been through with my mom, many times I choose to laugh rather than giving in and crying myself to sleep. Police officers have become street psychiatrists; unfortunately, this is neither fair to the mentally
Ill facing arrest nor the officer. A rookie officer got "broke in " well a couple years back when he called me, my mother's official contact in these situations, to inquire of her "mental state."
My mother had been hallucinating for weeks and fasting to purge demons from her life. Many midnight calls had been received from her at my house; in each, she was frantically begging me to seek forgiveness from the voodoo witch I had apparently pissed off. The witch had sent a message to my mother, via a german shepherd in my mother's yard, that I must be sacrificed for my sins. I ignored these as usual, did not call the police for a welfare check because I knew it was futile with as elusive as my mom can be in these episodes, and hoped she would somehow get herself placed on a mental hold. My mother was being tormented by the demons she saw and they were commanding her to do as they wished.
She later described these events to me, I am explaining them prior to my phone call from " the rookie" ( I have names for them I make up) to help set the scene. The events she described:
Her priest had given her special prayers to ward off the demons tormenting her. As she began the prayers, with rosary in hand, her house began to shake. The walls moved as if flags driven by the wind and the floor became gelatin like. This opened a portal for demons, sent by the witch, to interact with her. They told her she was no match for them and they were now attacking her seven fold. They threatened to dismember me and spread my bowels in the great lake of fire if she did not do as commanded. They began by making her remove her clothes then walk to the riverbank beneath her home. As she looked out across the moon blanketed water, she saw the orange glow of gator eyes. The demons commanded her to get in. She pleaded not to and again they threatened me. She did as she was told. She said they made her stay until dawn. When the sun rose, the demons commanded her to walk to a nearby home. There was a young mother outside playing with her toddler son. The demons commanded she kill them, my mother begged them to kill her instead. The demons replied "instead of killing them, walk to her garden and pee in it." My mother did as she was told and was commanded to walk into the woods and not stop until the demons returned to direct her. For four nights she wandered in those woods until the demons returned. They promised not to kill me if she walked to the interstate and committed suicide in the median for all the world to see. She obeyed.
With the back story in mind, hopefully, understanding of my actions with "the rookie" might make sense. I hadn't heard from my mom for ten days (truly a short time in comparison to her usual) when I received the officer's call. I knew it was an officer by the area code, I also knew it wasn't being routed through the dispatch team at the sherriff's office, this was a personal cell phone; absolutely a terrifying sign. Our conversation:
" Hello, is this Jennifer, daughter of Juliet Austin?" he began.
Me: "yes, what do you need?"
The Rookie, " well, ma'am. I am here with your mom and miss if I can say, something is very wrong with her."
Me: "continue"
The Rookie: (stumbling over his words terribly) " I am so afraid to upset you."
Me: " I highly doubt you will, but go ahead and spit it out!"
The Rookie " we recieved 17 calls within 3 minutes of a naked woman on the interstate trying to commit suicide. I got here, and ma'am I do not think your mother is ok, she is suicidal! She has a broken beer bottle and has repeatedly stabbed herself in the neck, arms, and torso. She is refusing all medical treatment. She wants to be left here to die. Has she ever been suicidal before?"
Me: (irate at this point) "well! ROOKIE! My mother is a devout catholic and would never commit suicide. She is SACRIFICING herself to save me from the voodoo witch. Get that correct first and she may allow you to get her treatment!"
The Rookie: a long pause then "well, ma'am how long has she been considering sacrifice?"
Me: " I guess at least a few days, but sacrificing herself is new to me. Put her on a psych hold and I will call her doctor."
The Rookie: "ma'am, I called you from my personal phone because I was so concerned about your mother. I will do my best to get her the help she needs."
Me: "I wish you the best of luck with that! I will call her doctor. Goodbye."
As I sighed while hanging up, I glanced at my husband who was driving us onward to our vacation. He was driving with hands at a perfect 10 and 2, not his usual 6 o'clock, his lips folded in, and his face beet red. I asked " what the hell is wrong with you?" One look in my direction and the laughter burst from within him! "Do you think my mother trying to sacrifice herself is funny?" That did it, he had to pull over. With tears in his eyes from the now hysterical laughter, he explained "while you were 'schooling' the rookie, nice name for this one might I add, you certainly didn't think before you spoke!" I was livid now, I raged "what is your problem, you are being so insensitive! I can't stand you!" He said "I am sorry honey, but I won't be surprised if you end up on a hold!" It was then that I realized what I had said. Yes, it was me explaining sacrifices and witches. I was now laughing too. Truly, that poor officer was probably scratching his head as to why I, the "supposedly sane" one, was my mom's emergency medical contact! Oh how we laughed together. A nice respite from the usual tears. While the situation was in no way a laughing matter, somehow my mistake made it better; it lightened my burden.
My mother was hospitalized, medicated, and released 96 hours later. She was on to new missions and quests. Of course, I got her out of that trouble too.
Monday, August 26, 2013
Saturday, August 24, 2013
She Would Have Been a Shaman
About 5 years ago, I watched a primetime show (I don't recall which one) about shamans. As they portrayed their amazing feats: extended fasts, holding their breath while heads buried in the sand, etc..., I remember saying to my husband "hell, that is nothing compared to my mom!" He agreed with me and we discussed some of her "feats." She has walked thousands of miles to see me, I have seen her place acid in her eyes and have no lasting damage (she was curing her "cancer of the demons" that had been plaquing her brain), she has fasted herself to the point of kidney failure twice, and yet here in the USA she is "crazy" not a spiritual leader of her community.
The show awakened something in me that night and I truly believe it is worth investigating. Aside from the obvious question: who IS this "normal" person psychiatry and psychology use as their grand measuring stick? I needed to answer questions for myself. Here is my "short" list of questions:
Is she actually a shaman?
How is she "different" from a shaman?
Is there any merit to her visions and dreams?
Would she be "cured" if only her fellow man would leave her alone?
The only answer I could come up with is Yes! indeed she is a shaman. Like a shaman, she had a "death and rebirth." Before schizophrenia "claimed" her she was prom queen, well educated, and athletic ( all normal by American standards); afterward, she was distant,stuck inside herself, and on a quest for enlightenment. Like a shaman, she regularly practices amazing miracles. I have removed her shoes after she hiked 1096 miles to my house, to reveal blackened skin and exposed bone. As I pleaded with her to allow me to take her to the ER, she calmly walked to my bathroom, grabbed rubbing alcohol from the cabinet then poured it on her feet without flinching, then calmly asked if I could spare a pair of clean socks. Her feet are still attached and they healed, so yes, she MUST be a shaman. She and shamans are one in the same no doubt.
Many of her visions require interpreting. Much like the bible (yes, the prophets were either shamans or schizophrenics too), but beneath the often garbled, non-sensical words, lie deep truths. I will "interpret " for you as I am her "student" if you will.
"All people are useful and desire to help"
" graciously accepting a gift is as important as giving one"
" truth is not real, only lies"
"Karma will get you 100 fold"
The answer is yes. Her visions have merit and are worthy of repeating.
"Coexist," with all the symbols of the major religions, is seen on the bumpers of cars everywhere. My mom deserves that too. While she has had a few major crime incidents, I can whole-heartedly proclaim she was the victim, she is honestly rather harmless. Our judicial system would disagree, but her attacks were provoked, and her perpetrators warned numerous times to leave her alone. She truly is more afraid of the world than the world is of her. She constantly avoids crowds because she believes everyone is uncomfortable (because she believes there is ink she cannot see on her forehead warning others she is "psycho") around her. If people could and would accept that she may say or do things they wouldn't understand, a life lived happy and free could be attainable for her.
A poem (yes, I wrote a poem) about my mother:
Shaman Mother
She would have been a shaman,
In another place and time.
Her death and rebirth complete.
Control of the spirits at her will.
This world subdues her!
With its medicine.
Medicine Man she would have been
With her cures seen,
through enlightened eyes.
They cure her themselves,
As she prepares for a long sleep.
Never to truly awaken.
Stop! She tells them,
Let me be!
But they won't.
Only through their eyes,
Will they see.
Her words garbled,
They refuse to hear.
Only the outward appearance,
She is their plaque.
Hide your children!
She comes!
Wild eyed and crazy,
Weaving tales of demons!
Do not hear!
We have the cure!
You shout!
But you are weak ,
Refusing to listen,
In your ignorant state.
Walk on by!
Do not stop!
Fast you should run!
Take your seats.
Bow your heads,
In humble remembrance
Of your Lord.
Where is he,
When she cries out?
Won't save
Her wretched soul.
Give her peace!
Yes you can!
Leave her be!
Look away!
Let her live
And be free.
Because she sees,
What you won't.
Only a poem could express what I feel. While my road to this state of acceptance has been long, I propose we change. Change our minds, our hearts, and our souls.
The show awakened something in me that night and I truly believe it is worth investigating. Aside from the obvious question: who IS this "normal" person psychiatry and psychology use as their grand measuring stick? I needed to answer questions for myself. Here is my "short" list of questions:
Is she actually a shaman?
How is she "different" from a shaman?
Is there any merit to her visions and dreams?
Would she be "cured" if only her fellow man would leave her alone?
The only answer I could come up with is Yes! indeed she is a shaman. Like a shaman, she had a "death and rebirth." Before schizophrenia "claimed" her she was prom queen, well educated, and athletic ( all normal by American standards); afterward, she was distant,stuck inside herself, and on a quest for enlightenment. Like a shaman, she regularly practices amazing miracles. I have removed her shoes after she hiked 1096 miles to my house, to reveal blackened skin and exposed bone. As I pleaded with her to allow me to take her to the ER, she calmly walked to my bathroom, grabbed rubbing alcohol from the cabinet then poured it on her feet without flinching, then calmly asked if I could spare a pair of clean socks. Her feet are still attached and they healed, so yes, she MUST be a shaman. She and shamans are one in the same no doubt.
Many of her visions require interpreting. Much like the bible (yes, the prophets were either shamans or schizophrenics too), but beneath the often garbled, non-sensical words, lie deep truths. I will "interpret " for you as I am her "student" if you will.
"All people are useful and desire to help"
" graciously accepting a gift is as important as giving one"
" truth is not real, only lies"
"Karma will get you 100 fold"
The answer is yes. Her visions have merit and are worthy of repeating.
"Coexist," with all the symbols of the major religions, is seen on the bumpers of cars everywhere. My mom deserves that too. While she has had a few major crime incidents, I can whole-heartedly proclaim she was the victim, she is honestly rather harmless. Our judicial system would disagree, but her attacks were provoked, and her perpetrators warned numerous times to leave her alone. She truly is more afraid of the world than the world is of her. She constantly avoids crowds because she believes everyone is uncomfortable (because she believes there is ink she cannot see on her forehead warning others she is "psycho") around her. If people could and would accept that she may say or do things they wouldn't understand, a life lived happy and free could be attainable for her.
A poem (yes, I wrote a poem) about my mother:
Shaman Mother
She would have been a shaman,
In another place and time.
Her death and rebirth complete.
Control of the spirits at her will.
This world subdues her!
With its medicine.
Medicine Man she would have been
With her cures seen,
through enlightened eyes.
They cure her themselves,
As she prepares for a long sleep.
Never to truly awaken.
Stop! She tells them,
Let me be!
But they won't.
Only through their eyes,
Will they see.
Her words garbled,
They refuse to hear.
Only the outward appearance,
She is their plaque.
Hide your children!
She comes!
Wild eyed and crazy,
Weaving tales of demons!
Do not hear!
We have the cure!
You shout!
But you are weak ,
Refusing to listen,
In your ignorant state.
Walk on by!
Do not stop!
Fast you should run!
Take your seats.
Bow your heads,
In humble remembrance
Of your Lord.
Where is he,
When she cries out?
Won't save
Her wretched soul.
Give her peace!
Yes you can!
Leave her be!
Look away!
Let her live
And be free.
Because she sees,
What you won't.
Only a poem could express what I feel. While my road to this state of acceptance has been long, I propose we change. Change our minds, our hearts, and our souls.
Thursday, August 15, 2013
I Have a Best Friend
Sometimes, best friends start seemingly as enemies. Mine was the neighborhood "bully" and coincidentally, her name rhymed with her label. She was mean as sin, tough as nails, and sneaky....just like me. We have been through so much together, our goal is to go out reaking havoc hiding sweetly behind our moomoos and toothless smiles. She can listen and understand, correct me and set me straight, laugh, cry, and celebrate with me. Plus, if something happens to my husband and I, she inherits our 4 versions of ourselves.
I hear so many women say " my husband is my best friend " or "I just hate other women, we don't get along!" To that I say " does your husband know which coupon insert has the good tampon deal?" I didn't think so. Oh and you can't get along with other women because we tend to call each other's bluffs worse than men at a poker table!
If you are a woman without a female best friend, you are missing out! There is power in uniting woman to woman, loving a friend enough to die for her. My best friend has guaranteed bail money for me!
We have been through her beloved father's death ( I was scared I would lose her with that one!) and my mother's "missions" from the lord that always end with a phone call from sheriff Barnie out in HeeHaw Neverland USA.
I have been fortunate to have her for 29 years of my 31 and glad she has let me tag along. All women need a best friend, not a guy, and certainly not your husband. There is more to this life than you can keep for yourself, connect with that person. You never know, it might be a bully!
I hear so many women say " my husband is my best friend " or "I just hate other women, we don't get along!" To that I say " does your husband know which coupon insert has the good tampon deal?" I didn't think so. Oh and you can't get along with other women because we tend to call each other's bluffs worse than men at a poker table!
If you are a woman without a female best friend, you are missing out! There is power in uniting woman to woman, loving a friend enough to die for her. My best friend has guaranteed bail money for me!
We have been through her beloved father's death ( I was scared I would lose her with that one!) and my mother's "missions" from the lord that always end with a phone call from sheriff Barnie out in HeeHaw Neverland USA.
I have been fortunate to have her for 29 years of my 31 and glad she has let me tag along. All women need a best friend, not a guy, and certainly not your husband. There is more to this life than you can keep for yourself, connect with that person. You never know, it might be a bully!
Driving Ms. Crazy
Much of my adult life, has been spent caring for my paranoid schizophrenic mother. I have been asked my favoritequestions "why don't you do somethin' bout her" and "is she on drugs?" The answers always are "No!"and "No!" The truth is, it isn't illegal to be "insane" in the USA and my mother is completely medication/drug free (unless of course she has been court ordered to take her meds for her mostly petty crimes).
It is time for this country and its doctors and scientists to wake up, listen, (I hope you notice my purposeful exclusion of law enforcement because that is a novel's worth of reformation) and insist on change. Medications need to change, interactions need to change, and acceptance and insistence need to lead the reform.
Having driven her cross country numerous times, after rescuing her from our legal system, has taught me lessons no one could comprehend. I am grateful for the unique perspective on what I call the "human condition" because of my crazy little mom. From learning how to stand up to her "victims" and give them the "I told you to leave her alone" speech, to simple, yet moving children's stories only her and her "crazy mind" could pen, my life is lived abundantly and fully because I know full well of the 7 billion + of us that share this planet, most of us take our minds and souls for granted.
My life has seen many horrors, but I have lived, been scarred, and been awakened. Trust me when I say, many "sane" people quickly take advantage of the mentally ill, and in my life, the small daughter that wandered with her. I hope to give some understanding (never try to understand it fully you will drive yourself mad), peace, and a sense of equanimity for those like me; and a glimpse of truth for those untouched by mental illness.
It is time for this country and its doctors and scientists to wake up, listen, (I hope you notice my purposeful exclusion of law enforcement because that is a novel's worth of reformation) and insist on change. Medications need to change, interactions need to change, and acceptance and insistence need to lead the reform.
Having driven her cross country numerous times, after rescuing her from our legal system, has taught me lessons no one could comprehend. I am grateful for the unique perspective on what I call the "human condition" because of my crazy little mom. From learning how to stand up to her "victims" and give them the "I told you to leave her alone" speech, to simple, yet moving children's stories only her and her "crazy mind" could pen, my life is lived abundantly and fully because I know full well of the 7 billion + of us that share this planet, most of us take our minds and souls for granted.
My life has seen many horrors, but I have lived, been scarred, and been awakened. Trust me when I say, many "sane" people quickly take advantage of the mentally ill, and in my life, the small daughter that wandered with her. I hope to give some understanding (never try to understand it fully you will drive yourself mad), peace, and a sense of equanimity for those like me; and a glimpse of truth for those untouched by mental illness.
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