am I of a lesser league of artist because of my illness?

well after thursdays meeting, old themes resonated again, its not the first time someone made my concerns to be of lesser value- i have dealt with constantly in school while i was being bullied so when i was hearing it from a couple people again on thursday alarm bells rang.  i have always tried to be "normal" as possible. I went to a normal school graduated from diploma programs, I was the teacher assistant. I went to africa to teach computers for four months. I learned and passed my Goethe exam. I had two children and then got really Ill.  I also published a collection of poetry. I write essays. as well as paint. funny I always painted as a child but I was in the shadow of my mother. she really is a talented artist herself who bears herself up constantly.  (she makes me look lazy when it comes to my homework. But she knows what she loves and what makes time stand still- its gardening. something i could never really do.  we have something else in common we both lived with the insidiousness of abuseverbal and physical. hers stopped when my dad took his own life in front of us- he blamed her for his misery. mine stopped because i ended up so sick i was gone through different hospitals and clinics until I had someone I felt safe enough to say what was going on.  I didn't trust many authority figures for a long time. and when I realised that the nurse responsible to help me was also an equal.  as was my therapist. I could finally open up and that led to a portion of my healing. but the worst damage had been done. the insults, the disregard of my word,  so of course that would ring trigger bells  three years later.  So because I battle Complex Post Traumatic Stress disorder  and Borderline Personality I am of less value than another developed artist. he better think again. actually if an artist thinks they are in a better league than those with an illness better look in a mirror because he may have found his foot in his mouth- and karma will find him.

I may have been a bit of a princess in the last show.  but I held my end of the bargain. I did the painting with Kids, but I learned that through my energy levels thats not for me.

I am of a different league of artists than some- but I am not a lesser person or a lesser league and anyone who notices my work gets that. 

I went to an art class there was another girl there that also battled a physical disability but she is a wonderful artist- and understanding how Cerebral palsy challges us with our motor skills she was still accepted in the class and the teacher just gently reminded her how good she was doing. that same teacher was saying about how i came from switzerland to visit her class, how I am a talented artist, and writer. My mom knew how to compensate for my challenges, just like this other girl. and the other classmates didn't pay attention to that they were too busy trying to follow the instructions and get the painting done in our limited amount of time. thank goodness we were painting with acrylics- the painting would have been ruined by a cup of water my mom and I somehow knocked over( some serious time loss there.  and this artisit still follows me on facebook if I post new paintings.and of course I follow her work. As artisits we love praise for our work. You don't look at a painting and say that artist is of such a league because she has a disability of sorts. if you didn't know me you would think i was in the same class as my mother as an artist - shes got about 45 years more experience than me, and she has been one of my best teachers showing me techniques and famous artists or finding it fun to visit art shows at the big gallery in Vancouver, or going to basel when she comes.  she is how i came to understand the influence of art in religion.   and I hope to teach my daughter and my son that one day.  I can see my daughter looks through a camera and hopefully soon a piano. she sings too ( way better than me but is so shy)  my son breathes through a paintbrush and a guitar. ( and probably the drums (he picks up a beat through observation) 

a friend reminded me also that we don't want our illness to define us, our talent comes first and by the way we face challenges because we face an illness we are able to express these challenges in a way that is not obvious.

I have never fit in with the "normal" crowd my whole life, but i am not going to be insulted constantly for it. I am also considered of a league at my art studio because i know the value of quality colors of acrylic colors. but I am no where near a better league than my fellow painters. i have a different style and find it an opportunity to learn from my fellow artists. I am still defining my style. and I am finding my voice as a writer again.  but finding how i can finally help others and still stand for who I am.  I will not be a victim but I will also not stand there and allow someone to insult my friends or myself.  Then the mother defensive mode will kick in.

Songs like butterfly wings,

i need to come up with a business plan and a way to get the interest of investors. Basically why was this little story written and why is it so important to get it published and in the limelight, and how do I see myself promoting this book? 

well to start off- This is a story of a little girl whos family is pulled apart due to her mothers complex mental illness.  it is a story of a mother and daughter being honest about the illness and how singing gives each other strength even when they can't be together. and also reminding children they are not at fault for the crazy things that have caused that separation but also children are witness to how people treat their parents and many times children face difficult consequences due to their parents illness.

You can Imagine how difficult it is to get funding to support those withthe Mental Illness- Borderline Personality Disorder is often associated with being a teen and or being narcisstic, as well as self harm. but not all patients are teens when they are diagnosed, rather adults  who were teens when the diagnosis was just an idea flittering in the mind of a wonderful Psychologist who knew first hand the feelings most of us went through; Ms Marsha Linehan. There are many factors that coincide with this illness including Complex Post Trauma which also has complex symptoms of its own. inclusive Dissociation. now be a child of that parent going through such symptoms.  so there have been support and self help groups developed for the patient, ( which is good - sort of like taking the oxygen mask first in a difficult plane situation) and for the parents of the patient- they need to help to cope with the patients odd behaviours and not take the blame or put the blame on the patient.  then there are groups for the spouse or the adult /late teen sibling.   There is a group missing here! and lack of support available for the most vulnerable group.  this is not a problem just in the states but world wide.  this is possibly because childrens mental health is at the bottom of a complex funding.  so maybe we need to create the program and support from other means of funding. 

The Duchess of cambridge had recently done a public announcement for Place 2 Be which seems to be a forerunner to support the children.  I would hope to create the program specifically for children of parents with Borderline Personality.  and help it to continue to grow with the availabilty of the book, and not just USA, or england but also in Switzerland and Germany.  Children need a safe place to speak about how their parents illness affects them with other children, to laugh and paint, do kareoke days, to play music.  or board games and basically know they are not alone.  Their world changed when their parents got Ill and diagnosed with a mental illness, new people entered their lives but to support their parents more than them.  maybe they feel they need to be the new parent for a younger sibling,or need to do well in school and fit in. they worry what others think when they realise what kind of illness their parents have. and feel they have to be happywhen they are by their parent because their time with that parent is limited and full of people around. 

They don't need to fight the stigma - thats our job as adults. We need to let children know they are loved, regardless. 

So the target audience is pretty much primary school-aged children so that they know they are not alone.  Hopefully most clinics  with in-patient and out patient programs that cater to helping patients with BPD, organisations that help fight the stigma attached with BPD. and hopefully in the public libraries as well as school libraries throughout the world. that way children who don't have the support available still can reach it. So families can sit together and read a lovely story of a very wise girl and her mother as they go through all the changes in their lives and realize all the resources they have to get to see one another more often.

what i hope to do to promote this book- i would read the book in as many libraries and bookstorees possible, as well as media interviews. Ellen, Oprah and Dr. Phil are you ready to help champion for children?  I hope to have this book translated in the worlds main languages as soon as possible. 

with the  20 % of royalties from the sales of the book ( after the investment of 4,000 US is returned to the investor)  the investor would be guaranteed their logo on the back of the book in gratitiude for their support of the book and what it would stand for.

I would also be grateful for the interest and Support of The Chief Editor of Waldorf Publishing who has shown the belief in the story (and so quickly) and would be sure to create a wonderful package to help all parties involved.

i would love to thank my friend Michelle who thinks we could at least translate the story to get it available here in switzerland as soon as possible.(i think you should become an agent)  My own Psychiatrist  Dr. Mössinger for also believing this story is special and is worth the attention it will bring.  and my daughter for correcting some details in the story to improve its authenticity of our story. Yes it is our Story, a mother diagnosed with BPD and Post -Trauma and a daughter, and son.

I hope to create such a program in cooperation of NEA-BPD and hopefully name it after the book.  We mothers send our love to children through lullabies on the wings of butterflies when we can't be there for them. 

The Remnants of a Parental Suicide,

It was 1975, He had just turned 25 on new years day, and was freshly diagnosed with Manic Depression.  And was known to self medicate with whatever drugs he could get his hands on. He had finally gotten a steady job as a bus driver. He was a father to a 13 month old little girl,and he was married to a devoted wife.  

Though she would account of many incidents of battery and emotional abuse. I do recall hearing my mother being slammed up against the wall. And as an infant I would shut down in fear (the deer in front of an oncoming truck) I would develop this coping mechanism as I grew and encountered other abusive situations (apparently typical of survivors of suicide-murder) I encounter bouts of guilt as I was not a healthy baby. - I  was born with a lack of oxygen, and later we discovered my thyroid non function - I was in and out of hospital in my first few weeks of life.  I am sure my father used that against my mother when I wasn't there. 

One night he decided to mix a few drinks and probably dropped some acid as well as taking his medication. It was a deadly decision that almost cost the life of not only himself but his wife and daughter(me). After the drinks he went home and became physically abusive to my mother, and threatened to burn down the house with us in it. I would hear all this in my crib in the neighbouring room

My mother was smarter(and sober) and grabbed me from my crib and ran to the neighbours, the first set of neighbours were not home, so she ran to the next, in which she was confronted by him shouting and blaming his low self esteem on her, and wielded a sawed off gun pointing at himself. She had gotten me to safety with the neighbours taking me in. My mother was in the depths of the drama, the fear, and the fighting. She hadn't known I was propped up in a window by the curious kids. 

He turned the gun on himself and shot himself in the stomach that night. Everyone was shocked. Not only had I witnessed the violent suicide of my own father, but  I was dropped and abandoned for a time while everyone was running in different direction like decapitated chickens in shock.  

My mother needed to be drugged up with valium due to witnessing such a violent act. We Somehow did make it to Vancouver so he could be cared for in the larger hospital, and my grandparents could care for me while my mom would be spending time by his bedside praying, talking to him, and when he finally died due to the gangrene infection, my mother needed to be medicated yet again. I needed her but she didn't have the strength then to acknowledge my presence. I remember having a rest with her in the big bed in the guest room of my grandparents,  I woke calling to her, climbing up on her and not getting a response.  I didn't understand what was going on, I was just an infant who lost her daddy, and scared she was losing her mommy too.  

My grandfather stepped up to the role of father for me. And doted on me when I came to visit or if they came to visit us.

But to lose a father to a violent suicide disrupted my sense of value- I wasn't a good enough person or he would have wanted to live,  I didn't understand these highs and intense lows until later in my life where I became diagnosed as having borderline personality disorder.  In my therapies I discovered my sensitivity to sudden loud abrupt noises that would find me cowered under tables not feeling sure what time frame I was in. There are self help groups for the parents or spouses left behind. Although 7,000-12,000 children( Hopkins Chilterns Center) lose their parents to suicide.   There are approximately 20,000 homicides in the United States annually. In 2002, 8.6% of

victims were killed by their spouse, 5.5% were children killed by a parent, 7.4% were killed by a family member, other than their spouse or parent, and 7.3% were killed by their boyfriend or girlfriend. The vast majority of these deaths are related to domestic violence.Fathers who kill children and then themselves often meet the criteria

for domestic abuse of their partners, including contact with the police. Even many suicides

by women are thought to be associated with battering.( survivors resources) 

There are no groups for the children left behind- it is either not acknowledged that people who take their lives could possibly even be parents.  I see groups for those who were the spouse,partner, or parent of the suicide victim.  But never a group for the child (adult survivor). Or is it just too hard to talk about.  Is it that group could never be acknowledged because if we acknowledged that it occurred we have to acknowledge that we let a group that have been left unattended to.

 Yes as children we are narcissistic in our reactions to the suicide - we take on a level of blame- if only.    I am also guilty of those as I got older.   I was also having nightmares, had fears of rooms that were long and dark.  But I couldn't put words to everything.    This issue seemed to fall through the cracks, people didn't want to admit to the possibility that i was a witness to this horrible event. They just wanted to concentrate on my development due to my rare genetic disorder.  Because they didn't detect it soon enough - it was suspected i may have mental retardation- i had a physical challenge. But i was more than intelligent enough.  And this may have made me more of a fighter in my life. I knew there was something out there that wanted me and my mother to live.  And I have had to be persistent in my story until finally as I came to the end of my teenager years a psychologist finally believed me as she noticed some of my other fears and anxieties came out.  It was clear I had a complicated history, and that I would feel isolated when people would learn how my father died but that through a change in hormones from a pregnancy I developed a mental illness. People are scared to hear of this possibility that we could possibly inherit a mental illness. But we had already battled most of our lives with post trauma anyways. (What is one or two more to top it off)  i tried joining a group where they had child survivors and I was reprimanded for being honest.  Again a way for me to feel isolated and strange for my situation.  I stand out, I try to move forward but a part of me is stuck and cannot move forward because this infant is unable to cry- she is that deer suddenly trapped in the middle of the road with oncoming traffic of bright lights and screeching brakes.   She must be quiet as the situation was life threatening. And the advocating mother in me says - I will not keep this topic a taboo. 

I spent years dealing with various psychiatrists (partially due to my being born with a rare thyroid condition) and when I was old enough to tell my perspective even small segments I  was accused of lying, of telling something I may have heard in gossip. I was only 13 months old when it happened.  How could I have remembered that event.?  The question is how could I I was at an age where I didn't have a vocabulary so my coping mechanism to shut down physically and emotionally.  I learned at the age of 38 that I dissociated in 7 forms to cope with the trauma.

The last straw was when my husband had hit me while I had my son in my arms because I slammed the door and locked it to protect myself and get my son to stop his screaming.  I was triggered to relive these events in new detail that i would never thought possible. 

This brought me to two clinics where I would spend a total of 15 months trying to get back on my feet again. Yes I felt suicidal many times but I stopped myself and asked for help- I did not need to repeat history and leave my children short of a parent.  

I started the bizarre behaviours marking my post traumatic stress disorder - these 7 forms of dissociation found me unsure of my time span( usually triggered by a sudden loud bang), days where my left side behaves as though I have had a stroke, or times where a tornado basically rips through a room breaking things and me in a corner debating on whether or not i should injure myself so I could come back to reality. 

It has taken a team to help me learn to trust, and to understand why 38 years my body behaves this way and that I should be nice to myself at this time of year. And yes 39 years later my body still knows what happened but now I have someone to help me through the rough days I had a wonderful group of nurses, doctors and therapists that do believe me and helped me tolerate my environment better. And I thank them wholeheartedly. 

Gemma Luescher-Verseckas  

Here's to the beginning of February

So i want to message a friend - my corrector button doesn't work nor did half the letters on the top row of my keyboard geesh - couldn't get a word in edgewise.  S it has been an interesting evening in an interesting time of the year where i question how things would have gone if vcertain events had a different turnout. 

So i am referring to of course my dad's death, and now my divorce, my voice, my strength and what exactly does healing mean to me.  And do i want to be healed. But i am told much of the damage has been done and it is pretty much irreversible, but my physical self is not the only part of me- i have a spiritual self. This is a part of me that looks for hope even when my pysical self is at limits, as is my emotional self.  That spiritual self seeks the light that streams through windows in the darkes of cellars and the darkest of nights.  

But what helped me with the question i battle with is the difference between healing and being rescued.  I don't need to be rescued by god, i need to be loved by god in how i am and all the challenges he puts before me.  I hear a song on my computer  called "Moses"  by Sally Barker,   It is about asking moses to be near me and to lend me a hand( it doesn't ask him to take away what my challenges are but rather just be near me and help me find that energy and strength to go further. That love that one feels while in the company of another who understands my plight.  I listen to this song and it does lend me that strength some days, as it reminds me that i am not alone in my journey. That i have a purpose.  And i am reminded this evening that i am not alone. That i am noticed in my journey.  And that i will be able to help others. 

So hopefully through my written word and gentle art i can help others, just as moses led his people through the desert and he parted the seas, it was his simpler action of just being there. His voice for those who couldn't. His voice to give strength for those who felt alone in their daily fight to feel like a human.