There's no mental health (issues) in our Family!

Mental Health - I think mine is ok, but can any of us be sure?

What have you had to cope with in your lifetime?

I have developed coping mechanisms, mostly, this involves accepting what I believe I am responsible for and coming to terms with it. Whilst, determining what I could not control and learning to accept it.

I'll place my thoughts and feelings within { Curly brackets }

I will be vague about who I am referring to, there are still family and friends who may be offended and I do not want to disrespect the people I love(d).

{ Writing this made me well up - I try to accept that this is normal. Some things are still quite raw, even after years have gone by. I can't change the past, but I can influence the future }

{ I believe language to be very important, it frames events in our lives like a 'picture'. How we refer to these events both internally and externally can influence how we perceive ourselves. }

Agoraphobia

Growing up, we had plenty of local friends, but none were allowed to come to our house.

Family rows would last forever, past issues would be dragged up by one parent.

Depending on how offended, angry, and intense the dispute, the more misdemeanors would be dragged from further back in time.

(These misdemeanors were on the whole quite minor to me, there was no infidelity or anything like that. For example, I remember visiting a popular tourist attraction where one parent banged their head, and the other parent stifled a laugh and went from there. 4 weeks of hell on earth and a major event to regurgitate in future arguments)

This continued into later life, at the age of 24 (I was late to fly the nest), two friends from work visited me unexpectedly at home.

Whilst all was well during the visit, all hell broke loose as soon as they left and the questions lasted for weeks, who were they, why had they visited...

Living like this was 'normal', but my friends found it hard to comprehend.

It is only then that I fully realized that most other Families didn't live this way.

I now believe one of my parents had a form of agoraphobia.

Don't get me wrong, I don't consider myself to have had an abusive childhood, both my parents did the best they could, regularly working seven days a week to keep us clothed and fed. Whilst the other kept a good home and also worked.

Sudden death

Whilst driving a close friend of my Spouse died instantly at the wheel. This caused the vehicle to collide with a house. The local presses' initial report blamed boy racers.

It was difficult to get people to understand the real reason for the accident.

Suicide

Several years later, the spouse of the friend, who died whilst driving got themselves into trouble with the law, their solution was to end their life.

They had formed a new relationship and their suicide hit their new spouse, hard. After several failed attempts, they too took their own life.

Suicide

My sibling took their own life.

I recall a bizarre conversation about how best to kill yourself with the least pain. This did raise concerns that I expressed, but I was reassured that it was just morbid curiosity.

I had to live with the realization that this wasn't mere curiosity and that one of the methods discussed was used in my sibling's demise.

For various reasons this was front page local news and made it into the back pages of the national newspapers.

{ This caused me to feel shame for what had happened and I had to take responsibility for how my sibling died. I found that discovering more about what happened helped to rationalize the events and understand my sibling just wasn't functioning on a rational level when they took their life }

{ It did teach me that I can never really know what is going on in someone else mind, no matter how close I am to them }

Adding to this we had relatives who seemed to see the circumstances of my sibling's death as an opportunity to impress their friends.

We had to cope with inappropriate behaviour from them, trying to push my spouse out and offering to stand beside me at my sibling's grave during the funeral. This was 'serious crazy ville!'

If that wasn't enough these 'ghouls' visited my grieving Parents with flowers and told them they would be travelling to the Chapel of Rest to view my sibling.

Who in their right mind thinks this is acceptable?

Shortly after they visited my parents I received a phone call telling me the coffin was to be sealed and that if I wanted to view my sibling laying at rest I should go straight there.

I responded saying the coffin should be sealed immediately as I had heard what had happened.

I had already decided I wanted to remember my sibling from memory, rather than seeing them in a coffin.

( This was horrendous, my head was up my arse, I wasn't functioning, yet a local newsagent had refused to put the billboard paper out as a mark of respect - it's these little things that I hold on to, someone showing some integrity and that they care }

{ I found that every time I first discussed these events with someone I would be very close to tears, welling up with emotion. Once that initial conversation had happened I could discuss it again with normality }

{ Welling up again }

Sudden death

A very dear friend of mine from work, who had spent many hours with me trying to rationalize my sibling's death, passed away unexpectedly at home one weekend.

I recalled a conversation where they mentioned to me they had started to get swollen ankles, I told them to go to the doctor. They agreed too, however they didn't.

This led to a blood clot that hit their lungs and they died instantly. This was a bitter double blow as both my siblings and my friend's death were mere months apart.

{ Guilt is a word I recall, I felt guilty I hadn't done more for a dear friend who had helped me so much and had kept the details in confidence }

{ Was the guilt mine to own though, everyone has choices in life, I could only advise and support my friend, I couldn't force them to visit the Doctors }

{ I will always feel this guilt, but I know it is irrational to do so, however, I have to accept that this is the way it will be }

{ I'm welling up again }

They say things come in threes, strangely, my experience supports this urban myth.

Within 3 months of my sibling's demise, my partner's estranged parent passed away of cancer.

My Spouse was in two minds as to meeting their estranged parent, the parent had rejected any attempts my Spouse had made at making contact in the past and now wanted to make amends on their death bed.

{ My advice to my Spouse was that I supported them either way, but this was about my Spouse and their mental health going forward, doing something is better than doing nothing }

( My spouse went and made their peace, however, this wasn't an easy path to take, however to me it was the most positive path, as I believe it provided my Spouse closure in the long term )

Life settled down for a whilst our children were growing up and doing well despite their issues, one is Dyslexic with mild depression and the other is Autistic, yet both are special in their ways.

My Spouse is also medicating for depression, quite unsurprisingly really.

Sudden unexpected death of a Parent

In the middle of Covid, I received a phone call from one of my Parents telling me my car was parked outside and spelling out A S T R A.

This raised alarms as the parent who called was suffering from Dementia and didn't normally ring. My parents owned an Astra and I didn't.

I asked to speak to my other parent, and they said they would try to get them to talk but they were just lying in bed with their mouth open and hadn't spoken all day.

{ This is hard going, emotions are welling up again }

We jumped in the car, me, my spouse, and one of the children, we were straight on the phone with the other children and my other siblings.

Sadly my parent had passed away overnight, apparently not from Covid, but from heart failure.

My now deceased parent had repeatedly expressed 'look after the living, the dead look after themselves.'

{ I saw this as a subliminal message that meant 'look after my surviving parent'. }

Dementia

{ I firmly believe the death of my sibling started my parent's decline into Dementia. Suicide is the single most destructive thing that can happen in a Family, the fallout can destroy the lives of the people left behind. Having said this I do not blame my Sibling, I also believe that the mental state they were in when they died would have prevented rational thought and the realisation of the consequences of their actions. }

That night was hectic as you would imagine, arranging for the Chapel of Rest, coming to terms with the loss, and slowly understanding that my remaining parents' Dementia was on a level I hadn't expected.

One of the hardest tasks was informing my surviving parent that their loved one had passed. We tackled this as tactfully as possible with the Paramedic present, yet within minutes my surviving Parent was enquiring as to the whereabouts of my deceased parent.

Imagine holding a conversation where one minute you are being addressed as your deceased parent, the next moment you are addressed as yourself, and then in the next sentence, you are being addressed as a stranger in a conversation about yourself.

I stayed overnight with one of my siblings to make sure our parent was alright. I got about two hours of sleep.

In the morning after my sibling had left, there were more concerns. Serious indications of poor circulation and the heating had been switched off at the mains to save money.

There was no perishable food in the house, as though no one had been shopping and the neighbours had reported seeing now late parent two days before.

It was quite clear that my remaining parent had been alone for roughly 2 days without the ability to make drinks or meals for themselves.

In addition to fresh cups of tea (with three sugars) every 90 minutes which were accepted but barely touched, we cooked some fish, but it was refused.

We got a McDonald's in and managed to get my parent to eat half a small portion of French Fries.

I got the gas fire working which greatly helped with circulation.

I had been told by a sibling that we needed to scour the house for a Will, which we were trying to do with as little intrusion as possible.

I stayed with my parent again the next evening...

That night whilst trying to figure out my surviving parent's medication. I called NHS 111 to get details of the medication and doses, however, I still cocked it up, and split the wrong tablet giving a double dose of blood pressure medication.

I got no sleep this night.

The following morning there had been a nosebleed and blood was all over the bed, also their face had changed causing me to think it could be a stroke, so I called 999.

{ More guilt caused by a simple mistake with medication. Anyone could have made it, especially considering the circumstances. }

My parent did not like anyone from the medical profession and refused treatment telling the Paramedic to get out.

By now it was becoming very evident that my surviving parent was not capable of looking after themselves and my Compassionate Leave from work would soon end.

I spent the next day with a sibling sizing up for a fight, I had to explain that leaving a dementia sufferer alone with their estranged (10+ years) child was unlikely to end well.

I knew my parent was paranoid about people breaking into the house and thought the neighbour had a set of house keys, so leaving a virtual stranger albeit their child in the house with them would be risky.

We had to push aside our differences to get the NHS to take my Parent to the hospital.

Have you ever tried to get a Dementia sufferer with White Coat Syndrome (the fear of medical practitioners) to a hospital against their will? All medical staff are trained to leave if their services are not wanted.

We needed someone to evaluate my Parent's Mental Capacity to refuse medical assistance and make the best interest decision.

Our hopes were on a mobile Doctor, who came and left when told to get out.

We were told another mobile assessment unit with these skills could be sent out, but it would most likely be the next day.

Apparently, the GP could section my parent and that would allow us to get them the care they needed, however, this proved to be incorrect.

Upon visiting the GP surgery, he told us to ring an Ambulance and the Police, which we did. This is what the mobile assessment unit would do, so by doing this we got them to the hospital that day.

Of the three Paramedics who came, one I knew from Secondary School, finally someone arrived who understood the gravity of the situation.

I instigated and witnessed up close and personal 4 Police Officers and three Paramedics forcibly remove my parent from their home, wrapped in a quilt and strapped to a chair for their safety, screaming they had done nothing wrong, they knew their rights and that they did not want to leave home.

{ I am crying writing this }

Despite this, I knew deep down this was the right thing to do.

Several months later after getting the hospital notes I discovered my Parent was dehydrated to the point they needed an intravenous drip.

Dehydration is the number one killer of Dementia sufferers.

In addition, they had several severe fungal infections requiring treatment with medicinal honey and a lower respiratory infection requiring anti-biotics. There were three more medical conditions that I will not go into.

I now understand that someone with Dementia becomes more agitated and difficult to deal with if they have an underlying medical condition, just imagine what it was like looking after someone who has seven.

It was the middle of the Covid pandemic, and once on the assessment Ward, we were no longer allowed to visit. At least not until we got a phone call asking us to assist my Parent for half an hour.

Half an hour became 90 minutes which I spent walking my Parent around a secure Ward trying and deliberately not succeeding to find the key to get out.

I could tell my Parent was exhausted and was getting wobbly, but was struggling to keep them close whilst trying to seek assistance.

In the following three months my parent remained in another secure Ward in the hospital.

Relatives of 'End of Life' or 'Dementia' sufferers were allowed to visit and we did, missing only a handful of days in three months.

The present

In the here and now, I'm not sure if I have dealt with the death of one of my Parents and am adjusting to the knowledge that my remaining Parent has a life limiting disease that has now been determined to be Alzheimer's.

I am used to having conversations where my surviving Parent communicates with me thinking I am several different people in the same sentence.

I have to agree with my Parent and 'go along with deceptions so as not to upset or agitate my Parent, this can be hurtful, but disagreeing or pointing out reality agitates and upsets my Parent impacting their quality of life and makes them more agitated for the Care Home staff to deal with.

I have read months' worth of handwritten Care Notes, trying to decipher what they say and mean. Collating evidence and formatting it coherently to justify NHS Continuing Health Care.

You wouldn't believe what I have read, trying to understand what could change the Parent I know and love, altering their behaviours so radically.

I still love them, their carers see the mischievous side and often say they're a character.

I visit the Care Home between Covid and Scabies outbreaks, sometimes we have a cup of tea together, and other times I am told to leave, the Staff at the home tell me they will keep trying but this just agitates my Parent. It's not about me, it's about them.

Going back to the title, throughout my life I heard 'There's no mental health (issues) in our Family!' many times, and I now believe I understand why.

My surviving Parents, Parent, my Grandparent had Dementia and would be aggressive and violent. As the youngest child of a large brood, my surviving Parent would have heard their siblings saying this when dealing with Dementia. This would have been during my Parent's formative years and would have had a huge impact on their view of Mental Health and how taboo the subject was and the shame it inflicted on a Family.

Thankfully we now live in more enlightened times, where I don't need to deny the disease exists and can face the challenges as long as I am willing to put the time and effort into understanding a swathe of Social, Medical, and Legal terminology.

I am also aware that the other members of my family are struggling to come to terms with this and other tragedies we have lived through and shared with our friends and family.

How do I cope

I'm not sure I am coping, I'm trying to take each day as it comes, and meet the commitments and responsibilities I have taken on.

For example, I had to apply to the Court of Protection for authorization to sell my Parent's house. This is something a Solicitor would normally do, but I have been advised I am capable and I have a responsibility to spend my Parent's savings as wisely as possible. Not fritter it away on unnecessary Solicitors fees.

I got this right the first time, which was no mean feat considering what was involved.

I am open to talking about my experiences in the hope I can help others.

I volunteer at a local church coffee morning and food bank, this has expanded my social circle and I have made a number of friends.

These things give me self-worth and confidence that my life has meaning, I can bring positive change to the lives of others rather than dwell on the negative things that I have experienced.

I am however concerned that I could also succumb to Alzheimer's and this scares the shit out of me. However, I have told my children to put me in care if necessary and not to feel guilty about it.