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Ron and I saw the movie, Extremely Close, Incredibly Loud,
Saturday and it was amazing. The 14 year old actor, Tomas Horn, was just fantastic and it was his first acting job. He was discovered after he was on a teen version of Jeopardy. I read something where he said that he thought the experience was great but he would be glad when his life just went back to normal. I'll be surprised if it goes back to normal anytime soon. He was in every scene in the movie and playing the part of a boy with Asperger's Syndrome. He portrayed it perfectly. I don't know how he captured it so well. Tom Hank's role was minor. He was the focus of the story (being the father killed in 911) but his role was brief. Sandra Bullock was the emotionally absent grieving widow. Her role was brief also although it had a surprising twist at the end. We really enjoyed this film and highly recommend it but be prepared that it is emotionally draining.
The line that got me the most in the film was when this young boy said, "I tried so hard to be normal". I lost it because it made me think about my brother and how hard he has tried to be "normal" all his life. It made me think......if my brother were "normal" he wouldn't be Mike. He wouldn't have all the unique, quirky things that make him who he is. I would only wish he could be Mike without the fears and obsessions associated with schizophrenia. My biggest wish is that he could have peace.
Mike's weekend started leveling out on Saturday and he had a great day with our other brother and Ron. They all got together to watch basketball. There were no problems until last night when he called to say he had a pill missing from his med planner. Ron and I drove over but the pills were fine. He's just anxious about them. I hope he does well this week. I need to call him....he missed his 8:15 call-in.
Thank goodness.........all is well. He had just walked to Subway to get his daily sandwich. They know him well at Subway!
Decreasing Michael's medications is going to be a long and tricky process. He is extremely anxious about it. He's having trouble expressing his fear but what I've been able to figure out is he has an irrational fear he's going to die if they decrease it. I try to assure him that his psychiatrist is very knowledgable and that he won't do anything that would put him in harms way. I can have this conversation a hundred times but he goes right back to his obsession. I guess the best we can do is try to distract him as much as possible.
I've been keeping a daily journal about Mike so that I can share it with his doctor. Mike can't express himself and his memory is so bad he wouldn't remember the struggles he has had through the week. The doctor will either use the information or just dismiss it. I just want to do all I can to help him receive the best care possible.
I told Mike last night how much I admire him and how he has taught me so much. He just cried which made me feel bad. But he told me he needed his tears, that it was a release for him. I get t hat. Sometimes a good cry really lets us get out the feelings we have bottled up so long. Mike needs to hear that he is a good man and that his disease does NOT define him as a man. He is a man who has schizophrenia. He's a man who has worked hard to be a good person inspite of his disease.
Ron is with Mike this afternoon watching a ball game together. This gives me time to get some chores done. We are going out for a movie tonight.
I have been married 8 months now but I still haven't gotten my name changed on all my accounts. Yesterday I called Uverse to see how I needed to go about changing the name. The young man who assisted me was so pleasant. He took care of the name change and then said he wanted to review the account. I thought, here it comes, a sales speech to get me to increase my service. But no, he just said, "I can take $5.00 off your monthly fee for you." He didn't even explain why he just did it. No sales speech, nothing! I have to say I was impressed.
I figured I was on a roll so I called the gas company but they gave no discounts. I hope I didn't turn off my gas service in an effort to change the last name. I guess we will know if our feet get cold tonight.
How do I make my brain think like a schizophrenic? I try but his brain jumps around like an ant on a hot rock. I'm answering one question and before I can finish a thought he has moved on to something else. It's like talking to Flash Gordon, he's all over the place.
Yesterday was a day of obsessive thoughts. He obsessed about his medication and told me he was having suicidal thoughts. All this was going on while I was trying to work. I had an unusually busy day yesterday and I was juggling everything while I had a phone attached to my ear. This is such a "normal" routine for me I become completely unaware of who is around at the time during these conversations. It must really sound odd to the outsider.
"Now, why do you want to kill yourself"?
"Because you think you might have missed a pill?"
"What are you afraid will happen if you missed a pill?"
"You'll die?"
"So, you'll just kill yourself instead."
All this while I type on my computer and shuffle papers on my desk. People must think I'M nuts!
Every morning at 8:15 he calls and every morning at 8:15 I hold my breath. Is it going to be a good day? Or are we going to ride the schizophrenic roller coaster? Sometime after the 20 - 30 phone calls for the day I will come to a conclusion.
I took Mike to his psychiatric appointment Monday and it went well. Mike had the best two weeks he's had in over a year. His optimism was high and he didn't have any problem with reducing his Thorazine. He had only one episode when he got a little anxious over his med. planner and I had to go back to his house and make sure it was OK.
Dr. T. lowered his dosage of Thorazine again from 3 x daily to 2 x daily and he lowered the Trihexyphenidyl from twice daily to once daily. Mike seemed OK with all the changes. We had an enjoyable trip and went to lunch.
On Tuesday morning I got a call from Mike and he told me hadn't slept. He said he called our brother at 1am and told him he was having suicidal thoughts. I guess it just hit Butch's last nerve and he must have yelled at Mike. So Mike was upset with Butch. All I could think about was I can't lose Butch's help with taking Mike to appointments. I just can't do all of it by myself. If Mike gets too paranoid about Butch he won't go with him. So I did my best to defuse the situation. I had Mike call his psychiatrist himself to tell him what was going on and he did. Dr. T. then called me and just said that Mike should take his Thorazine at bedtime and that it will take awhile for him to adjust to the changes. Mike seemed reassured and did just fine last night.
His psych. nurse has started coming again and she will take over the med planner duty. I'm still hopeful that things are going to get better and that his thinking will improve. He will probably continue to have difficulty with impulse control. He's always had a problem with it. I just hope that he remains sweet and doesn't go back to being mean and demanding like he was before all this happened. The meds have made him much sweeter. If that happens we will have to have a come to Jesus meeting because I won't let him abuse me the way he did for so many years. I may have more leverage now because he knows that I'm all his has. Mom and Dad are gone so he knows I'm it! Gives me a little bit of leverage I hope.
Do you remember the first time someone called you ma'am? I think I was about 30 or 32 when the sacker at the grocery store called me ma'am. I about died. I was sure I was over-the-hill and my youth was just a faint memory of the past.
Ron's daughter called recently to report she had just been called ma'am for the first time. She was having about the same reaction that I had. We teased her a little and welcomed her into the over-the-hill club. I told Ron after we hung up that I have passed the ma'am stage and have entered the sweet little old lady phase. Now I'm called "sweetie" or "darlin" or other sweet old lady terms of endearment. Young people hold doors open for me and act like they want to carry my parcels. Frankly, I LOVE it! So far I haven't felt the least bit offended.
Following my divorce in 1978 I spent about six years in counseling. I was fortunate enough to find a therapist that I felt very comfortable with and trusted completely. Initially I didn't seek counseling for myself but for my children who were having a difficult time adjusting to the divorce, or so I thought. What I learned was that my kids were fine, it was me that needed adjusting. So began my six-year journey of self-discovery.
The first year I spent the majority of my hourly sessions crying and working through my feelings of rejection. Everything was centered around mourning the death of my marriage. What I learned in that year was how to identify what I was really mourning about....it wasn't the marriage as it really was but the hope of what I wanted it to be. I was grieving the loss of hope. Once I was able to learn the difference between the two I was ready to move on to focusing on myself and what I wanted in the future.
The following year I had my counselor's support as I tentatively began to open myself to the idea of dating. I was able to talk about a multitude of feelings this evoked. It took me to places I wasn't even aware of and how these experiences had impacted the way I acted in relationships. I hadn't realized that being molested as a little girl actually impacted my ability to be intimate in a relationship. Why I never connected the dots is still a mystery to me. But we were able to go back and work through some ugly residue left over from that experience. There is a time to look to the past but only if by doing so you can change the future. Otherwise just keep moving forward.
In the end I felt I had been given tools that would help me as I moved forward in my life. I finished all my work and I'm grateful I was finished before I turned 34 years of age. I've continued to use the tools and strategies I learned and I believe I gained a much better understanding of myself. I learned that happiness is not dependent on anyone but yourself. If you are unhappy then change your circumstances, don't wait for someone else to change.
