A Failed Suicide: My Story

In 2012 I was in a really dark place. I had a bully boss who was micromanaging my every move. I tried to measure up to her high standards, but I could not. I don't think that I would have ever been a good enough teacher in her eyes. In March of that same year, I contemplated suicide. I wanted the pain to stop. I erroneously thought that my life would be of more value if I were dead than if I were alive. I was driving on the 55 Freeway and figured that if I drove fast enough, I could smash my car into another car and end it all. Fortunately, I chickened out.

Let me take you back to the day that led to these horrific thoughts.

A few weeks prior to my failed attempt and months after months of harassment, I was working hard to become a better teacher. One of the things that I was asked to do was to have a mentor work with me to create a plan to improve my craft. My mentor and I decided on a few days where she could come help me. We notified my principal in writing of all of these days in sufficient time.  That particular day I planned on teaching for an hour then working with my mentor for a few hours and end the day collaborating with my colleagues. Apparently, my principal forgot about the days because the morning in question I was greeted by the office manager who asked me why I needed a 1/2 day sub that day. I informed her of the plan and told her that Mrs. B, the principal, knew of this plan. I went on my merry way, because it was almost time to get my students. About twenty minutes later, Mrs. B. burst into my room. She called me over and in front of my students lambasted me about the situation stating that I did not have prior approval as stated in the Teachers Who Need Mentors manual. I reminded her that I had previously turned in paperwork with the dates that I would be working on my improvement plan. A paper that she signed and approved of. As she walked out of the door, I stood there flabbergasted. I could not believe that I had just been yelled out in front of 30 five and six year olds. By my supervisor no less! I'll never forget the look of horror on those scared little babies' faces. One of them piped up and said, "What was that all about?"
I collected myself as best as I could and then returned to teaching my precious students.
A month later as I was recounting this story to my therapist, she wisely noted, "I bet some of your students see their parents act like this on a regular basis. This event just further traumatized them"
When the substitute came, she could sense that something was amiss, but told me to get on with my day. She would figure out what needed to be done.
I tried to calmly walk out of my classroom as I went looking for my mentor. As luck would have it, there were no empty classrooms that we could work in. I did not want to work in the teachers' lounge because I feared my bully would interrupt our planning time to yell at me again. We decided instead to go to my mentor's car to work. A few minutes after we got situated, my phone rang. It was the school, they wanted to know where I was. My bully had sent out the office manager looking for me, but she couldn't find me. For the record, I did not have to tell anyone my whereabouts. My students were cared for. I could have gone off campus if I wanted to. It probably would have been more comfortable instead of balancing my notebook and laptop in the front seat of a compact car.
When I answered the phone, I could hear my bully screaming in the back ground, "You tell her to get back in campus right now. She needs to return to her students. She does not have permission to work on her plan today." I immediately gathered my things together and reported for duty as my drill sergeant had requested. I stuffed my emotions for the third time that morning.
Whether I followed protocol or not, it is never Ok for an adult to yell at another adult in the presence of children. I will never know the impact that that day had on my students. I only know the impact that it had on me.
For days after that event, I was unable to sleep and started to lose my hair. Then one day on the way to work as those scenes flashed through my mind, I became overtaken with anxiety. I could not breathe. I parked my car, called the office and told them I would not be working that day. I then drove home in tears. The incident on the 55 Freeway happened a couple of weeks after that.
I could not see my future. I could not envision returning to that hostile environment. I knew that my family needed me to provide for them because at the time I was the primary breadwinner. I thought the only was out of this mess was to end it all. After those scary thoughts,  I arrived at my friend's house. I told her what I had been thinking. She encouraged me to speak to our family therapist about those thoughts. Later that evening before I left her house, my friend made me promise not to act on my thoughts.

When the therapist heard my story, she encouraged me to speak more to a psychiatrist to see about taking some medication. So I did. For over a year I took medication and I saw a counselor until I no longer was in that dark place. One of the things that my counselor told me was that children whose parents commit suicide are more likely to commit suicide themselves. I could not imagine my daughter killing herself, because she knew that's what her momma had done when things got rough.
I am forever indebted to my friend and my therapist for talking me out of that dark hole. I am also grateful for medication that was available to me during that time.

**I did eventually return to the scene of the crime so to speak, but things were never the same. I'll write about that experience in a few weeks.

Best. Playdate. Ever!

I know we are celebrating Independence Day in America but I'm celebrating the Best. Playdate. Ever.
Yesterday's playdate exceeded any expectaions I ever had for these sort of things. Here's how it all went down.
A few months ago I met the acquaintance of a local mom online. She and I met a few weeks ago for conversation and some Starbucks. (In case you're wondering, I am currently obsessed with Iced Oprah Chais.) At this visit I met one of her six adorable children. She and I seemed to hit it off well so we agreed upon a playdate to be determined at another time. I was so impressed by this mom, Kim (not her real name nor will any of the other names I'll be using in this post). She seemed so easy going and not at all like a mom of 6 children. I told her all about Princess and her quirks and needs but she did not seem taken aback. She was quite the opposite. She was curious and eager about meeting my little gem.
A couple of weeks later, I contacted her about setting up said playdate. She was so gracious and asked me to choose a place that Princess would feel comfortable at. She even asked me if I would prefer if she only bring her three girls and have her oldest boy watch her other sons at home. I loved her idea of not overwhelming Princess with too many kids at once, so I agreed with it. I chose Chuckee Cheese's for this meet up since it is contained and air conditioned.
On the way there I front-loaded Princess with my expectations. I asked her what she was going to do if she got frustrated. She said she would take a "Cool out" or remove herself from the situation. I also encouraged her to play with all of the girls not just the youngest as I know she likes playing with the younger set since they are mostly followers. We talked about how good behavior would look and sound. She brought up that there would be no negativity from her either. She and I discussed this as well. We role played what lip smacking and eye rolling looked like. Then I explained that there would be consequences for those actions. I felt that she completely understood what was needed to have a successful playdate.
When we arrived this cute blonde child asked me if we were here for a playdate. It turns out that she had asked her mom to show her a picture of Princess and I so she could be on the look out for us. I was impressed from the beginning. Then Faith, the social butterfly, escorted us to meet her mom and her other two sisters. I had already met the youngest, Hailey, at Starbucks and she was just a precious as I remembered. The oldest of the sisters was Ingrid, but they called her Ginnie for short. All three girls were just as charming as could be.
I gave Princess some tokens while Kim and I figured out what we'd order. The girls skipped off once Princess had her tokens so she could join them in the game area.
Again Kim and I chatted freely about many things while the kids played nicely. They checked in from time to time then came and ate when the pizza was ready.
Princess is an odd bird because she usually likes to sit on one side of a booth all by herself since she needs a lot of personal space. Not yesterday. She squeezed herself in on the same bench where two of the girls were already sitting.  When I noticed Princess pushing Hailey, I encouraged her to go to the other bench where Faith was sitting. Princess decided to make the best of it and stayed where she was.
Princess shared pizza and tokens like it was no big deal. I was so proud of her.
After all of the pizza was eaten and the tokens were used up, the girls played in the indoor playground. During this time, Princess got injured on her shin. She walked up to me to show me and informed me that she needed ice and a band aid. Like any mother of a drama queen would, I pointed to the counter and told her to ask for those items from the cashier. My daughter is not shy at all so she hobbled over there to inquire about these items. Surprisingly she only used the ice a few minutes then declared she was cured before returning to play with her new friends.
When it was time to leave, there was no kicking or screaming by any of the children or their mothers. As we were going to our cars, the social butterfly declared that she wanted another playdate with Princess next week.
In the past playdates lasted no longer than two hours and usually resulted in me leaving with a crying, raging or screaming child. Normally when Princess gets the tiniest scrape it is like the world is about to end. We typically don't have a playdate with more than one child at a time because it overwhelms my daughter.
Later last night while we were swimming in our pool, I asked Princess to rate the playdate on a scale of 1-10. She gave it an 11.
There were many factors that contributed to yesterday's success. One of them was her new medication that I cannot say enough good things about. Another one is her school has been giving her so many social skills. Her private therapist works with her as well on many issues. I believe that front loading Princess before we even arrived was an important piece. My new friend's willingness and attitude helped immeasurably. She probably has no idea what a big deal yesterday was for my daughter. My child walked away from that experience with her self confidence boosted 1000%.
For all of you moms out there who have children without Special Needs who teach your child to be accepting of others with Special Needs, I just want to say thanks for spreading acceptance in your own little way.
As an end note: I cannot wait to meet Kim's three sons who are, I am sure just as wonderful, as their mom and sisters.

OCD Can Ruin a Lovely Day

There are days lately where I think that maybe it is time to close up this blog for awhile. After all Princess is doing so well. Then there is an incident like yesterday and I realize just how much mental illness is a part of our lives. I am grateful that the Bipolar side is being controlled with meds but right now, today, we are dealing with OCD.

OCD at its worst can take over a person's life. In our case it also takes over our family's life.

Yesterday the place I thought was the most likely to feed OCD did not. Instead a place I would have never guessed did. Let me explain. As you may know Princess and I went on a mini vacation. Yesterday I decided to take her to one of the beaches in LA. This one has a carnival feel to it. Princess was a bit nervous as there was sand which has been a problem for her tactile senses in the past. We also ate at a seafood restaurant which can be an assault to her sense of smell but thankfully it did not smell fishy. Yep over all we had a pretty great time at the beach.

When it was time to leave I decided to take the scenic route which ended up taking us a lot longer to get home that I would have liked. Princess did great in the car ride by keeping herself busy with her sticker book and rockin' out to the music on the radio.

When we got closer to home, I said that I was going to a drive thru at a fast food restaurant minutes from our house. She let me know that she had to use the RR. Before we got there I asked her if she thought she could wait until we got home and she said she did. Of course while we were in line, it became clear that she was in "emergency status." I told her to jump out, use the RR fast and get back in line. Silly me I thought this would be simple as the line was long. I ignored the voice in my head that warned me that OCD was lurking. As I moved up in the car line, I prayed that my daughter would be finished by the time that I got to the drive thru window. That was not the case. The cashier even let me pull up a little since there were no cars behind me. This establishment is not like many McD’s that has a parking spot where you can wait if your food is taking extra long.  At one point I got out of my car and walked to the window to ask the manager to keep an eye on my daughter. Eventually another car pulled up in the drive thru and my gig was up. I actually had to pull my car around the block, back through the alley and then park in the strip mall adjacent to the restaurant. Then I entered the restaurant where the real fun began (insert smirk here).

Once inside I noticed that there was a lady standing outside of the RR who politely but firmly informed me that she was next. I let her know that it was my daughter who was inside. She stepped aside and let me talk to my daughter through the door. I told Princess that she had to hurry up as others were now waiting but alas my words fell on deaf ears and it was another 15 minutes before she emerged. I ended up watching the men’s room while the lady who was waiting to use the women’s room went inside. I was so embarrassed. There was honestly a point where I wondered if we’d have to do something to break the door down.

When Princess finally emerged, we pretty much walked in silence to the car. On the way home, I let her know my displeasure and how her OCD impacted not only me but the restaurant patrons and employees as well.  I was pretty ticked.

After we arrived home, I went straight inside after telling Princess to gather a few of her things. Here’s where things got really dicey. About ten minutes later, I realized that Princess was still not inside. So I went to our van only to find her a sobbing mess in the back seat. I coaxed her out and let her know that it would be OK. (Insert mommy guilt trip here.) A few minutes later I went to check on her in our bathroom because she was supposed to be getting some tissues to dry her eyes. I asked her what was up. She told me that she could never forgive herself. Oh the burden she must feel. She gets what she is doing is wrong but she cannot stop OCD from bossing her. As I mentioned before we do use a combination of medicine and therapy to help tame the OCD beast. I think a phone call to the doctor is in order today. Stay tuned.

* As a side note: I was finally able to get Princess mind off of the ugliness by watching "Mrs. Doubtfire" with her while cuddling with  her on the couch. Maybe I'm not the worst mom in the world after all.