And so now, here are my stories…

Sometimes there are no words. Sometimes, your heart just breaks in two. And sometimes, you get so mad at the world because you just can’t understand what is going on.

That’s how I feel. You know what is even more devastating… if I feel this awful, I can’t even begin to fathom how my husband, sister-in-laws, or father-in-law feels.

Last night I called to check in on Tom. He put me on speaker phone and asked, “Do you have any special memories of Nana? We are writing the obituary.” I got so choked up, I just couldn’t do it….And so now, here are my stories.

Tommy and I met when we were 19 years old and so for the better part of my adult life, I was blessed to have Kathy in it.

The day Tommy brought me home to meet his entire family at his aunt’s house, I was immediately greeted by this woman with short blond hair, a big warm smile, and an even bigger hug. THAT was who she was-the person that hugs someone she just met. I went home that night, and my mom said, “How were they?” “What were they like?”

I said, “A lot like us. They were all sitting there together laughing and enjoying their time together.” And that is what our family has been for over 20 years, Kathy, the matriarch making sure her family was always together, laughing and having a good time. There wasn’t a holiday, birthday, random Sunday dinner or even a phone call that wasn’t full of her laughter. I think I can count on one hand the number of times I saw her mad–I mean really pissed.

They say you marry a woman like your mom, and she and I were alike in a lot of ways. Loud, not afraid to say what had to be said, and fiercely protective of those she loved. As incredibly filled with friends, life, and love as she was, she kept her true inner circle incredibly small and tight. If you got in–you were in. And if not, well that was your loss. I guess I was in because up until the day she died I loved her fiercely and she loved me, too.

A few years back, Tom and I separated. It hadn’t been an easy road at all. When Tom told me he was leaving I called 2 people–my dad and Kathy. I was lost and didn’t know what to do. NEVER in a million years did I expect her to take sides or get angry with her son, but I knew if anyone in this world could get him to open up, it would be her. It took time, and Tom and I did the work, but she was the one who called me everyday to check in. She was the one who talked him through what was a very tough and confusing time. And it was she, who kept many of the secrets both Tom and I shared with her, never revealed to anyone, and never a judgement just love and support.

She’s walked me through many personal crisis. She’s listened to Tom and helped him remain patient with me when I was a raging bitch or crazy lunatic. She saw beyond even what Tom and I saw and was our biggest cheerleader. For that I have never said thank you enough, and I hope she knows how much her support meant to both of us. She and Tom Sr created the most beautiful human being. I see Kathy in my husband everyday–his love of laughter, his light hearted attitude, and of course his love of hugs. She certainly lives on in him–and all of her children–but I’m blessed to be married to one of them.

Her son, Tom has given me the gift of three wonderful children. Each time we told her we were expecting, it was always an occasion of joy–even when I was hormonal–like the time I was pregnant with JT. We were in Maine and my large German Shepherd decided to take a nibble of Kerri’s husband…..eek! I was MORTIFIED and burst into tears–9 months pregnant, worried, hormonal. I was so scared that the dog would eat my soon to be baby! She just grabbed me, hugged me and talked me down. I still giggle thinking about how fast Papa, Tom, and Mike scattered when those big fat tears rolled down my cheeks. She handled it like a pro–like the nurturer she was.

We spent sooooo many night on the porch in Maine. During the day, the kids would jump all over her, and she loved it. At night after they’d go to bed, she’d put on her robe, pour a glass of Chardonnay, and we’d sit on the porch and chat for hours. I’d wake the next morning, usually one of the first awake, get my coffee to be greeted by Nana shortly thereafter. We sit there, watch the Today Show and enjoy our caffeine. The coffee pot was always on and her heart and ears were always open.

Nana loved all of her grand-babies with reckless abandon. Many nights she’d get up with me when my girls refused to sleep. She’d would take them for a week at a time if Tom and I stole time away. She’d send cards every holiday–Easter, Valentine’s, even St. Patty’s day–always signed, Love Nana and Papa. AND she NEVER EVER let the kids go to bed with dirty feet! It was her thing….the kids would come in from the sandy beach and before they got in bed, those feet were washed like Jesus’ on Holy Thursday.

That sink in Maine has seen more feet and baby bottoms that I can recall. Every baby had a bath in that sink–all 8 of them from Connor to Maeve, washed, dried, and dressed in jammies by Nana. And don’t forget the HAT! That was her thing….all babies need a hat!

She danced at weddings. She cried at funerals. She smiled and laughed when the company was good–and when it was bad–well…..you knew.

Born on April 4, an Aries, Nana was A BOSS! So true to her sign… “Aries is the first sign of the zodiac, and that’s pretty much how those born under this sign see themselves: first. Aries are the leaders of the pack, first in line to get things going…don’t be surprised if they can rally the troops against seemingly insurmountable odds—they have that kind of personal magnetism.” True to the Ram, Nana was “a bundle of energy and dynamism, kind of like a Pied Piper, leading people along with its charm and charisma” https://www.astrology.com/zodiac-signs/aries

Charm and charisma…that is who she was and who I will always remember. I hope her smile never leaves my memory because when I think of it, I feel joy. In the warm breeze that blows, I feel her hugs. In the sunshine on my face, I feel her presence.

Over 20 years of loving someone brings with it a wealth of memories, most of which I can’t remember now, being overcome with grief, but I know time will heal the hole we all feel.

Though she has passed onto eternal life, and I will miss her dearly. With ever fiber of my being, I believe, I HAVE to believe, that she knew her job here was done. She’d raised three wonderful people, married the love of her life, and saw her proudest legacy, her 8 grandchildren, grow into the amazing people that they are. I can almost feel her whispering in my ear now, “my job was done.” I can see her smiling down on us all watching the beautiful thing that she and Tom created. I’m so lucky to have been a part of it for 20+ years. I an even happier that others had to good fortune to know her much longer.

For Tommy, Kristen, Kerri, and all the kiddos, Nana lives in all of you….little pieces of her are reflected in each and every one of you. Her spirit forever lives on in you and through you. The best gift she gave us was each other and through maintaining that closeness she cultivated, we’ll forever have her with us.

From Broadway’s The Lion King:

They live in you (Hela hey mamela, hela)
They live in me (Hela hey mamela, hela)
They are watching over (Hela hey mamela, hela)
Everything we see (Hela hey mamela, hela)
In every creature (Hela hey mamela, hela)
In every star (Hela hey mamela, hela)
In your reflection
They live in you

Inside True Crime and Anxiety

Yesterday I finished watching a great documentary about Michelle McNamara, late wife of Patton Oswalt, who posthumously published a book and a 5 series documentary titled I’ll be Gone in The Dark. I stumbled upon this documentary in my quest for all things true crime, specific serial killers. I can’t tell you why, but before it was even “cool” to be a true crime junkie, I was ALWAYS fascinated with the workings of the human brain, specifically brains that were so depraved that they took others’ lives repeatedly and horrifically. I know this sounds crude, but I know I’m not alone….case in point–Michelle McNamara.

Michelle McNamara had her own blog and podcast, True Crime Diary, and through her years of dabbling as a true crime sleuth, she stumbled upon the case of the East Area Rapist/Original Night Stalker that taunted California in the late 70’s and early 80’s. As she began to investigate EAR/ONS she began to fall into an abyss so large, so dark, and so daunting, that she knew she just had to find this man and had to publish a book about all of his terror and damage.

Though I chose to watch to get my true crime fix, what I ended up watching was a very thought provoking documentary that was also about slipping into mental illness so quickly and so easily. As Michelle pursued her research, which ultimately aided in the April 24, 2018 arrest of the Golden State Killer (EAR/ONS), Joseph James D’Angelo, she sunk deeper and darker into anxiety and depression, self medicating with opiates, benzo’s, uppers, etc. As you watch this, you think to yourself…hmmmm….she seems OK”. Wow…writing a bookd is HARD! Her family seems to think she’s ok. Maybe she needs a pick me up. Looks like she has this under control. Soon you quickly realize, all of that means nothing as this beautiful mind, mother, wife, amazing writer, and true crime pioneer, accidentally overdoses in April of 2016, in what I interpreted as a victim of yet another mental illness.

The credits to the documentary rolled, I shut off my TV, and I sat there for a moment contemplating what I had just watched. This woman–a civilian crime detective–essentially propelled this case back in to the spotlight and “solved” one of California’s coldest cases. As she spent hours and hours relentlessly pouring over crime scene photos, talking to victims, scouring the internet, and interviewing detectives the darkness and horror of these crimes invaded her. Patton talked candidly about her still very much maintaing her role of an involved motherr and loving wife. As an occiaisonal blog writer, I can’t even begin to contemplate the hours that Michelle put into her research and book, coupled with the gruesome content that she consumed. The pressure was immense- and even though she had an incredible support system, she found her self leaning on adderol, benzos and the like to get her through.

But, what sacred me the most, was the darkness underneath–gone undetectd by her, her family, and her closest confidant and friends. Essentially she was “fine”–stressed about her book deadlines–but “fine”. This made me think of all of the times I felt down trodden, ridden with anxiety and told myself, I’m fine–you can’t be 100% everyday. To some extent, I guess that is true. We can always be 100% on top of the world. Emotions are normal–depression, anger, anxiety…those things are all a part of the human experience. It is when they invade our true being that we need to take a long hard look. When we fall into self medication, self destrutive habits, or destroy relationships, people must ask…WHAT IS GOING ON?!?!? BUT–after watching this, a woman with incredible support, financial security, a promise of a book deal, I thought –well, that could be me.

I’ve talked time and again about the importance of mental health. May being, Mental Health Awareness Month, seemed like the perfect time for me to fall upon the story of Michelle McNamara. In the series, Michelle’s siblings talk about Michelle’s late mother and her own struggle with depression. As I watched and listened to the many poignant journal entries that Michelle wrote, it was obvious that aside from never really healing from a post college sexual assault from a former employer, she suffered, too, from depression and perhaps, anxiety. Once again, there was a part of me that lived within her.

My son was born in 2006, and after a 5 day hospital stay because of complications, I came home and retreated deeper and deeper into my house. I was interested in NOTHING but my son. I’d nurse him on my chair, change him, play with him, clean my house, and cook dinner, but I NEVER wanted to leave the confines of my home. You might be saying–so what that is what new moms do, but not this new mom. I would not leave unless my bestfriend drove down to my house, said, “let’s go!” and went with me to the market, Target, or even for a walk outside. My mom came over and did the same. When I did leave I thought for sure that my heart was going to pound right through my ribs out of my chest! I was convinced that I was short of breath with every step I took…. Yet, they wouldn’t let me retreat. Now I understand, as they did then, that I was suffering post-partum depression. Though relatively short lived, the anxiety that I also felt never went away. I started being social again, going out, and even feeling”normal”; but, there was always this big elephant on my chest who NEVER seemed to get off!

It wasn’t until after Maddie, my second child was born, that I was seeking counseling for the first time in my life. My parents were going through a divorce, and though over 30 years old myself, being caught in the middle felt awful. After several sessions of counseling my therapist suggested that I see the psychiatrist becasue she and I both agreed I probably had a classic case of generalized anxiety.

5mg of Lexapro, a lot of counseling, and even more self-relflection I FINALLY knew what it meant to feel “normal”! When I thought back, I suspect that I suffered from anxiety even as a kid, but I just learned to deal with it. However, after the changes my body went through in pregnancy, there was NO IGNORING this beast! And a beast it was!

The most intersting thing about anxiety is that it can be difficult to treat, especially in someone like me who had anxiety about taking medication. I’ll never forget the day that I finally decided to fill my prescription. My sister was at my house and JT was sitting in his high chair eating a muffin. Being a typical 3 year old, he crushed every bit of that muffin and threw it all over my floor. I BALKED!!! Thank GOD my sister was there. She calmly said, “JT, mommy isn’t feeling well right now. Can you help auntie and get the dust pan and brush to clean up this mess while I talk to mommy.” We then had a heart to heart.

Gina, too, had been going to therapy and had some years ago been diagnosed with depression. She had walked the road and basically what she said to me is that once you are on the other side of this you will NEVER look back. She held the proverbial mirror in front of my face and made me take a look at what was occuring. I took my meds, and from that day forward finally felt free.

Counsling, therapy, and even sometimes medication are all there to help us treat our brain when it isn’t working well. If it were the heart or lungs, no questions would be asked, and treatment would begin immediately! Yet when you put the word mental in front of the world illness, people pause. Mental health matters!!!

I share my story, and Michelle McNamara’s story, and even small tidbits of my sister’s story, to tell you that everywhere you look there is someone who might be suffering inside. I know that for me, it was helpful to know that someone had walked in similar shoes to mine. That is why I share my struggle with anxiety. Somedays it rears its ugly head and I’m bitchy and full of restless energy. Most days, it is under control, but I know that I am not alone. I have resources and help. Unfortunately that same resources are always available to everyone.

As a country we MUST prioritize mental health. All too often we turn our mentally ill to the streets or into prisons, when instead with treatment we can help people to be productive parts of society. It is so much easier to complain about “others”, but if you are being honest about what separates you from “them” is that YOU have health insurance and can get help if you choose. All of our citizens should have access to mental health services.

I know how horrible I felt with my barely diagnosable mental health issue. I can’t even begin to think of the torture that those with pervasive issues feel. Even more, imagine feeling so much pain that you self medicate, harm and murder other or commit suicide. NO person deserves that pain! I believe that even the gruesome rapes and murders of Joseph D’Angelo may have been avoided had he many years prior addressed the mental illnesses and years of abuse he suffered. Think of all the lives saved….

Mental health matters. Mental health will always matter!

National Mental Health Awareness Month: Part 1 – Make Mental Health Matter

I’ve said it before and I will I keep saying it until I take my last breath #makementalhealthmatter! Blue lives, black lives, all lives….NONE of it matters if mental health doesn’t matter!

Before you come at me, let’s talk about what is true. 2020 and 2021 were some of the toughest years on record that I can remember as a ripe 43 year old adult. A pandemic, a volatile stock market, an even more conentious US presidentail election, riots, TOO MANY dead folk of color, all of it—being inundated day in and day out with information has caused us–the human race–a serious decline in mental health. MYSELF included.

But, before I get to my own struggles, let’s look at some numbers. NAMI, The National Alliance on Mental Illness, cites suicide as the 2nd leading cause of death among 10 to 34 year olds. READ THAT AGAIN… 10 years old!! As a mother of a 10 year old, that raises a scare in the depths of my soul. Furthermore Mental Health America released its 2021 report, The State of Mental Health in America, with some staggering findings:

The month of May has been dubbed Mental Health Awareness Month #MHAM and NAMI is continuing its campaign, You Are Not Alone, #notalone, to continue to raise awareness about mental health. Normalizing mental health is critical. Afterall, the brain is THE MOST IMPORTANT organ in the human body.

nami_youarenotalone_2020_finalDownload

Without the brain, we can’t breathe on our own.

Without the brain, our heart can’t beat.

Our brain is the driving force of all that we are and all that we do, yet there is soooo much stigma around mental health issues. For the life of me, I will NEVER understand this! If I have a bacterial infection, I’ll get an antibiotic. If I have cancer, I”ll receive chemo. Think of COVID–there was a monstrous public health push to keep people healthy and well, but not even of a fraction of the same resoureces were spent on addressing mental health issues, more specifically, the mental health issues that were compounded from the impact of COVID.

Megan Brooks, in here article Poll Shows Worsening Impact of COVID on Mental Health, cites a poll from the American Psychiatric Association in which 4 in 10 Americans report they are more anxious than last year. 43% of adults have reported that the pandemic has had a serious impact on their mental health and the incidence of drug use and alcohol use have increase over last year, 14% and 17% respectively.

I can cite data all day, but it isn’t necessary. All one needs to do is take a walk down a city street and you can see the anxiety in our neighbor’s eyes. Call your friends, you can hear it in their voice, they aren’t well. As I mentioned, I too, have struggled with mental health during my adult life, as have many people I love. Because it is important to normalize caring for out mental health, over the course of this series, I will share these stories.

Until then, we must realize many people suffer with mental health issues. Until we normalize and prioritize caring for our BRAIN, NOTHING matters. We as a society are beginning to decline not because of one political affiliation, sexual orientation, gender identification, or racial classification. WE, as a society, are declining because we are not paying attention to mental health!

Mental health MUST matter. #makementalhealth matter