Deborah Carney

Where I Celebrate Life

Depression

I wrote this in 2012 for another site and while the article is still there that site isn’t under my control so I wanted to reprint the article here in case that site disappears someday:
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April, 2012
While I was thinking about this week’s topic, I happened to be watching the tribute to Mike Wallace on 60 Minutes. I didn’t know he had lost a son in an accident. I said to myself “There’s one reason he became such a workaholic.” I lost a son to an accident as well. My life shattered that day. There are only a handful of people that I know now that knew me then.

Back to 60 Minutes. About half way through the special, Mike Wallace was interviewed. I was surprised to hear Morley Safer asking Mike Wallace if he had ever considered suicide. I stopped what I was doing to watch intently. I knew the answer. I have the same answer. Almost. Mike said “I have never said this in public to anyone before. Yes, I wrote a note, mu wife found it and my pills. Depression does things.”

I didn’t have a plan or write a note. I knew I was close to not wanting to live. I had people on alert to come help me with my surviving son if I felt I needed treatment. I knew I would not commit suicide, but I deeply wanted to. I knew what happened to the people you leave behind. I no longer feel that way, my heart and mind are still healing, but I am far from that place where I didn’t want to live anymore.

The trigger – the death of a child. But some people suffer depression that is triggered by much less. That doesn’t make their depression any “less” severe than mine was. I got help. Mike got help. But depressions doesn’t just go away because you take drugs, or meditate or see a counselor or psychiatrist. Most people that suffer depression hide it. They feel like they shouldn’t be depressed, their life may be great and they don’t understand where the depression comes from.

They don’t talk to anyone. Then one day there is an extra pressure, extra stress and they take a step too far. If you are depressed, don’t think you are alone. When I opened up and told people I was on a specific medication suddenly many people were at my side – talking about what they are taking and how they want to be able to stop. Depression is a pervasive disease that wants to take your life away… slowly or all at once. It is actually the one condition you can cure through talking to the right people, and realizing you aren’t alone, and understanding that time heals.

If you are depressed, you aren’t alone, don’t feel ashamed or feel that you are a failure. If you aren’t depressed chances are you know someone that is. Don’t judge them. Talk to them.

When Life Gets Unbearable

Very few people know the story I am about to share. It was a very dark time in my life. Without Chris and Liz the outcome may have been different.

September 2002, 4 months after Dan died, his first birthday after he died. It was almost too much for me. I put Liz on alert that if she got a call from me she needed to not ask questions and get on a plane from Rochester to NYC to come take care of her brother. Because I was almost at a point where I could no longer tolerate the pain. I told her if she got that call that it meant I was on my way to admit myself to a hospital. I didn’t want to live. But I knew I didn’t want to die. I knew people still needed me. But I was close to not caring.

I did “all the right things” after Dan died. I worked for a doctor’s office and they put me on antidepressants and other medications to help me combat my deep grief. I have a news flash for you. they don’t work. Only time can heal the broken brain and shattered heart. Time and rest and sleep and allowing yourself to grieve. Chris and I got through it. Barely. I had a nervous breakdown but was able to get through it without a hospital stay. I knew what to do if I really wanted to die. I didn’t take any steps towards actually committing suicide. But it was there, in my mind. How could I go on with my life with this much pain in my brain?

I couldn’t make decisions. I didn’t sleep. I would try and give up. Once every couple of days I would sleep for an hour out of sheer exhaustion and then wake up again. I became agoraphobic. I only left the house to get groceries and do laundry, which was right on the same block. Being agoraphobic in NYC – Astoria to be specific – is perfect. You had everything you needed within steps or it could be delivered to your door.

Chris was dealing with his brother’s death in his own way. He was online with friends. He lost himself in the online gaming world of Gemstone. He was a warrior creating spells and mythical creatures to fight the demons.

We got through it. We moved from NYC back to Rochester when my grief wouldn’t allow me to continue to work in a corporate environment and our landlords decided the apartment needed to be used for family. We were paying an unheard of (low) $1250 a month for a first floor, wheelchair accessible *2* bedroom apartment. Once we were told we had to leave, there was nothing at all in all of NYC that was under $3000 a month for even a studio that was wheelchair accessible. I spent 2 months with realtors taking me to inappropriate buildings before we gave up and went back upstate. I was already starting to make money online but not enough to support us in that environment.

After Chris died in 2006 I was already on the West Coast in San Francisco having decided to move there a mere month before he died. I became terrified of drowning. I had nightmares of drowning. I wouldn’t go to the ocean, I wouldn’t take baths, only showers. No drugs this time around, the ones that are supposed to help you almost killed me. Friends on the phone with me for hours is what helped me get through Chris’ death. Everything was accelerated. All the things I did and felt after Dan died happened faster after Chris died. I quit my job and moved to Las Vegas. I lived alone and grieved and tried to define a new life that didn’t include my boys.

Why am I sharing this story? There are so many people out there that are hurting emotionally and physically and they don’t think they can go on. I was there. I got through. I didn’t want to get through at some points. But I did.

No matter what your hurts are, no matter what your physical or emotional pain is, you can get through it and survive and find a new journey for your life. I didn’t believe it was possible. But here I am. Some days are still not great. I try and turn them from sad to celebratory. I try and go on and accomplish what I promised my boys I would. It’s a new journey, it’s a work in progress.

You know what helps? Hummingbirds and Butterflies 🙂

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Something My Daughter wrote in 2002

My daughter Liz did a google search on her name, which we do from time to time. She found a post she made on a site that had an email address for her that neither of us remembered. I put the domain into Archive.org and not only did she own the domain way back when, but it was a site for parents that had children with disabilities or that had lost children. Here is her about us page, I didn’t even remember she had gone public with this. I had written a short story about her child that died, I will have to look it up now. In 2002 I was deep in grief over the death of her brother Dan and was in NYC trying to cope and had her brother Chris living with me, but I am amazed neither of us remember her starting this site.

About Us

I’m sure many people may wonder why I would put together a site like this. I would like to share with everyone my story and my personal reasons for why I saw a need for Parenting By Parents.

I grew up with 2 brothers with Spinal Muscular Atrophy. It was hard since I was the oldest and ended up taking on much of their care. I remember when my parents had to fight the school district in 1984 to allow the older of the 2 to go into a mainstreamed Kindergarten class. You see, although they were in wheelchairs, their form of SMA does not affect their minds or intellect. Obviously things have changed, and the public has become slightly more aware when it comes to people with disabilities, but that does not mean that they understand.

When I was 22, I found out that I was pregnant. I was an unmarried soldier at the time and was scared. Luckily I found the right man just before my world would start to come crashing down. I went through all of the normal tests that you have done during a pregnancy and found that there was the possibility of a chromosome disorder in my baby. No problem, I had volunteered and worked with kids my entire life with various disabilities. I knew what would be involved, but had the test done to see if we could find out exactly what was wrong so that I could be better prepared.

I was told that there was a defect linked to the male chromosome, that would’ve likely been passed on from the father. Unfortunately, I no longer had contact with the father and couldn’t let him know. All they could tell me was that the defect may or may not affect my child once they were born.

What I did not know was that chromosome defects can sometimes cause premature labor. I went on a trip to Florida to meet my husband’s family for Christmas. When we got back, I went back to duty. I hadn’t been back for a week, when the trouble began. I started spotting and immediately when to the post urgent care center. They ran some tests, told me everything was fine, but hooked me up to an IV and sent me to the local hospital. At this point, I knew that they weren’t being honest when they told me everything was fine. The military doctor on call met me at the hospital. I was dilated 2cm and had already ruptured membranes. They needed to get me to the hospital in Syracuse, NY immediately as they were not capable of the preemie care that would be necessary if I gave birth that night. My husband was told to stay home as there was a bad snow storm and to meet me in Syracuse in the morning. I had to spend that night, my first ever in a hospital, alone.

When I got to Syracuse they adjusted my bed so that I was laying intrundel to relieve some of the pressure on my uterus and hopefully stop labor. I was not having any contractions, which was scaring everyone. I remained like that for a week before they decided to let me lie normal and allowed me out of bed to use the restroom. Boy was that a mistake. The first time I got up to use the bathroom, I sneezed and ended up pulling the emergency cord. I could feel my baby’s head!!

The nurses all came in, they sent in an intern to examine me and I was told, yes, they could see the top of the baby’s head but everything was fine. And back to bedrest and intrundel I went. Well, this naturally didn’t sound right, but who was I to question them? This was my first pregnancy!

Now as I said, I wasn’t feeling any contractions, so they would periodically hook me up to machines to monitor whether or not I was actually having any. About a week later, January 15th, 1999, I was on that machine and a nurse came in. There were no contractions being monitored, but she noticed that there was a drop in the baby’s heartrate, so she got someone in there immediately. Upon examination we learned that I was dilated to 10cm! My husband and family had just left so they got me a phone while they were prepping me for delivery. The last ultrasound had shown the baby was still facing the right way.

I called my mom and my husband then tried to prepare myself. We found out the baby was breached so they chose to do a C-Section. I was only 24 weeks along. Once they started the C-Section they realized that my poor son was stuck in the birth canal and they had to do the old fashioned T Cut in order to have enough space to get him out. He was rushed immediately to the NICU. He was bruised all over his poor body. My family arrived while I was in recovery. I was shaking in pain from the contractions that they had to induce after the surgery, and it was too soon for them to give me any pain medication.

Aaron Bruce Ababon survived for just 8 hours. His father and grandmother each held him, although I never got a chance to. He was so small that with the amount of morphine I was on, I was scared I would drop him.

Just 3 months later, I lost my aunt Kathy Jean to cancer. She had survived far longer than we expected, and we all believe it was because she wanted to see her first great-nephew born.

Later in May of 1999, I learned that I was pregnant again. Although I had ultrasounds every 2 weeks, it was a much more pleasant experience and Alec Gene Ababon came into this world Feb 2, 2000.

Alec is a very healthy, happy 2 year old now. Someday we shall tell him of his “older brother.”

During this time, my 2 brothers with SMA left for college. Dan, the youngest went to Hofstra University and later got into New York University’s very prestigious dramatic writing program. Chris went on to Hofstra when Dan went to NYU. Dan spent 2 very happy semesters living his dream come true. He was a finalist for the Emmy Internship that he wanted so badly in Los Angeles, had many scripts in various contests, and suddenly late Sunday May 12th my mother got a call that her 21 year old son had been a passenger in a car accident and was being taken to a hospital in New Jersey. They believed he was fine, although he had been thrown out of his wheelchair through the back window of the van. She told the hospital of his disability and made sure they were aware of his needs. She was leaving NYC on the very next train to get there. Within the 2 hours that it took for mom to get to my brother on May 13th, he had died due to aspiration on the cat scan table.

That is another day that will forever live in my memory. I was awoken at 5am by the doorbell. They had been trying to call me for an hour to tell me that my fuller than life itself, 21 year old brother had been killed. The next days were a blur as I helped my father make the arrangements since my mother was still in New Jersey handling things down there.

Daniel was a role model to the many people with disabilities that he came into contact with. NEVER once did he allow the fact that he was in a wheelchair stop him from doing anything that he wanted to do. He was truly living his dream until it came to a crashing end.

Today, my brother Chris lives in NYC with my mom and I am working to get this website up and running so that it can help others. I am a Work at home Mom to Alec and wouldn’t dream of doing anything else!

Life is TOO Short…

I started a thread in a forum on a day that turned into a day when 2 people I loved ended up in pain. When I started the thread all was well. By the end of the day someone was in the hospital. Both people that had issues that day recovered, but it was a day that scared the heck out of me.

Losing 2 children shocked my system to the core, losing the first set me on the path to serious affiliate marketing. I needed to work at home to be with my other child. I couldn’t cope with being with people that thought the “important” things were whether the coffee was made or the door was too squeaky.

I can’t say enough that life is absolutely too short. Please enjoy your friends and family, do work you don’t hate and take time to enjoy your life. It has taken me a very long time and very special people to get me to be able to function well again and stop being a workaholic to run from the world. Too many of *us* right here use our self employment as an excuse to work when we should take a break. And others choose to spend their time on activities that are not productive nor enjoyable.

Balance. Life is too short, so enjoy it with balance.

June 25th 2009 2 icons died. Children lost their parents, parents lost their children, the world lost people they loved. Controversial or not, they were both loved.

The point of posting this is just to give us a reminder to be good to ourselves and those we love, re-read the posts that have good advice.

Hug someone you love, go offline and play with your kids, call someone far away. Tomorrow they may not be here. And that isn’t said in a mean way, or a condescending way. I said goodbye twice without a clue that it would be the last time.

Sometimes tomorrow doesn’t come.

Need inspiration to follow your passion?

Originally posted elsewhere on September 19, 2007:

Today is my son Daniel’s birthday. He would have been 27 today. Over the past 6 years I try every year to get through his birthday without anguish. For those that don’t know, he died in a car accident in 2002. On Mother’s Day.

Why post today? Why not just hide away like I planned? Because his story is one of passion and ambition and brilliance. And unlike so many other people, he *did* what he was passionate about. He didn’t talk about doing things, he did them. And he had obstacles, oh did he have obstacles. He didn’t finish high school because he had panic attacks. And he went on to attend Hofstra University and got into the highly competitive NYU Dramatic Writering program. I lived with him at NYU in the dorm for a year (well, it was almost a year) because he went there right before 9/11. When the buildings came down, they weren’t concerned with finding a health aide for a 20 year old in a wheelchair, they had bigger issues to deal with. But that’s another story for another day.

He wrote his first complete novel when he was 10. It blew me away. It is no longer around, the files got corrupted on the computers it was on, the hard copy is no where to be found. It wasn’t meant to be his legacy.

Passion… when you think about how hard it is to do what you love… think of Daniel and how he managed to do what he loved, and know that he was poised for greatness when the universe claimed him back. He followed his passion… to the day he died. He had a movie in independent pre-production, he had an internship with the Emmys, he was ready to fly.

The Movies

Slay the Demons – When a random act of violence forces Brent Fischer to relive the traumas of his past, he’s forced to finally face down his demons or let them destroy him forever.

Age of Experience – An exploration of the difference between age and maturity seen through the eyes of two male prostitutes and a disabled college student. It’ll suck the funny right out of the room. And then you’ll get to the climax.

kiuljuk – An online plea from an old college friend fills Greg Mitchell with confusion. Because what happens online isn’t real life. That is, until it is.

kilran – Death in a funny suit

Go do what *you* are passionate about and don’t make excuses why you can’t.

A wise man told me in May, “just keep thinking of the future”. And today he said “go forward, go forward”. I am going forward and not dwelling on the past, but the past has some issues I need to deal with now and then. And Dan’s accomplishments going unnoticed are one of the things that bother me now and then.

Daniel was also a huge positive influence on people that knew him. He made a huge impact on a community of script writers, Project Greenlight. Most people only know that now because of the tv show, but it started as a community, a forum, where a young man named dfogg had a huge influence and following. He met his girlfriend there, he made friends that were his business partners, he inspired other people to write and attempt to market their writing, when they were too shy or lacked confidence to do so. Sound familiar?

He stirred controversy, went to live events – in LA, and believe me flying cross country was not easy on us. Especially the trip that all three of us went. Neither Dan or Chris could sit in an airplane seat comfortably, and airlines don’t really know what to do with 300 pound wheelchairs. I sat between them, taking turns letting them lean on me or holding them up. But I digress….

He started on a message board and made people do what they were afraid to do. He inspired people. So maybe that is why I am so pushy about inspiring people myself.

And he *is* the reason I repeat “life is too short”. His life was too short. He is the reason I pressure some people to get out of their comfort zones and do certain things.

Follow your passion, follow your heart.

Life’s To Short to Not Accept That Some Days You Will Still Grieve

There are birthdays and there are the “anniversaries” and I know that even as time passes they don’t get easier… even if we want them to. So on “those days” (for me today is one for Chris) I try to do something that reminds the world about how special those we love are and how hard it is when they are gone.

It’s been easier to deal with adults that leave us, my dad, my sister – but even when your children are adults it tears your heart out and leaves a whole to big to fill. Even when your life finds a new path, and that path is a good one, there are still times when the memories and the pain resurface.

I write this because life it too short to not acknowledge the pain, take a day with the memories, do something that honors that child (brother, uncle) that you lost and understand that it is still ok to grieve even though it makes those around you feel sad that they can’t “fix it”.

Chris was my life, especially after his brother died. He was a quietly wonderful man, he drew (I don’t have his drawings), he played Gemstone IV online incessantly, he was an actor (which is why he loved the online roleplaying). So I don’t have anything “tangible” from him, but great memories of his love for animals, his love for his nephew, his passion for acting.

Some of you met him in person or virtually. He was part of your lives too. Today we can grieve again and tell people to listen to the Doors (he was a huge Jim Morrison fan) and have a shot of Stoli…. and remember that life is just too short.

(Chris left us this day in 2006 – he had been in the hospital for a few days, he went back home with his girlfriend, they got up in the morning and he had trouble breathing. She went to get him a drink and when she came back in the room he had stopped breathing. She did CPR, called 911, but it was done. He died quietly and quickly.)