As my depression lifted, I started taking on chores around the house. My Mom got a parttime job at a motel, cleaning rooms. I wasn't well enough to work outside the home, but I managed to keep the house tidy, the clothes washed, and making meals. As time went on, I told my Mom that I thought I'd feel better if I was working outside the house, so she talked to her boss and her boss hired me to do the same thing Mom was doing. I had 16 rooms to clean every day, and even though it was really hard physical work, it wasn't something you had to think about in depth. I had to change beds, clean bathrooms, defrost refrigerators, clean stoves, dust, vaccum and put out new towels, cups, and coffee. At the end of the day, we all took our carts back to the laundry room and washed all the glasses and put them in clean paper wrappers. All the dirty linen had to be bagged up and made ready for the laundry people to pick up. Then we had to load up our carts for the next day, and we could go home after we turned in the keys. Sometimes Mom and I would go to the bread outlet not far from the motel, and we'd buy bread, rolls, and occasionally a pie to eat on the way home.
It was hard, backbreaking work, but I was young and I felt better getting out and meeting people. It was nice to be back in reality.
I worked there for a while, and then I got tired of it and started looking for baby-sitting jobs. I started looking at the want ads in the paper and found a job not far away taking care of 2 little girls and an 8 hear old boy named Jack. The girls names were Dawn, 4 years old, and Penny, 2 years old. I went to see them and they had a nice home, a double wide trailer like ours, and they had a play room built on where all the kids toys were and where they could play safely without me having to keep an eagle eye on them, but I watched them anyway. Dawn had problems not being the baby anymore. She was withdrawn and too quiet for a 4 year old, but she was very sweet and loving. Penny was sweet and cuddly with blonde curls. Jack was a handful. He tried my patience one day by kicking his bedroom door from the inside of his bedroom, and I got a ruler out and spanked him for it. That evening he told his Mom, "If something happens to you and daddy, Mom, Bonnie can take care of us!". When his Mom told me the next day, I asked if that was my walking papers? She just laughed and said no, but I don't imagine it made her feel very good. I did a few dishes every morning and wiped off the table and vaccumed the dining room and living room. I spent most of my time with the kids, taking them to the playground, and fixing their food. They were good kids and I got paid fairly well for a job where I didn't have to work so hard. Mom quit her job too and just stayed home taking care of her own things.
Later on, the people I worked for decided to move up the coast and wanted me to go with them since the kids loved me so much. They said I could have free room and board and they'd pay me and I'd have evenings and weekends off. I didn't want to go though so I left them and found myself another job taking care of 2 little Arab boys and their grandmother. The littlest boy was only 2 and his name was Omar. His older brother was 7 or 8 and his name was Mohammed Dean. The Grandma was in her late 60's and she reminded me a lot of my Grandma Annie. Her hair was white, and she had blue eyes and was very sweet and friendly. She laid on the couch a lot and we got along just fine. Omar was so beautiful. He had dark skin, black hair and brown eyes and was a really sweet and lovable little boy. Their Dad was Arab and their Mom was white. The Mom was pregnant and worked at a bank. I don't know what their Dad did but I saw very little of him.
Sometimes I'd take Omar walking down to the shopping center. We would have lunch at the T.G.&Y. store and I'd buy him blue jeans and tennis shoes and cute hats and things. We had so much fun together. Dean would come home from school around 2:30 and I'd fix food for all of us. Everynight I had to sneak off from Omar because he would start crying and wanting to go with me.
But that job, even though I loved Omar, wasn't leading anywhere. I applied for a government test as a clerk/steno which means a typist who can take shorthand,
and after the test I was scheduled for an interview. So I quit babysitting, and in January of 1968 I started working at Naval Air Station North Island where your Grandpa works now. I was thrilled to have my own desk, typewriter and access to a coffee machine! Ha Ha. I typed naval messages and speedletters and mailed out status cards and all kinds of things that would just bore you, so I'll spare you all the details. Later on, I was in a car wreck and had a really bad whip lash. The night of the wreck, my neck got so stiff I had to take my hands and put them behind my head and pull myself up to a sitting position. The girl that hit us wasn't hurt, but she had been putting on her makeup and wasn't even looking to see what was right in front of her. We were stopped at a red light and she hit us at about 40 miles an hour. The impact threw us out into the intersection and we almost got hit again. They didn't give her a ticket or anything, so I got a lawyer and sued them. The bad part was that the clinic they sent me to for therapy for my whiplash was the same clinic the girls mom worked at and they didn't treat me very well. I had to wear a neck-brace for quite a while and had to take soma compound to relax the muscles in my neck and shoulders.
I went back to work after a couple of days even though I didn't feel very well. I got $3,500.00 for the suit that I won. The car we got hit in was my brothers car, even though I had co-signed for it. So I split the money with him, so he could get his car fixed. I took the rest and put it in the bank. Later on, after he had spent all his money on drugs or whatever he was into, I still had mine. He wanted mine too! I told him no, even though my mom was pressuring me to give him even more money! I took my money and put it down on a brand new car of my own. Then I didn't have to get up a 4:30 to take the bus to work every day. It was a Chevy Nova, light yellow, and was a great little car. I loved it! I would spend my Saturdays washing and waxing my new car out in the driveway and drinking cold Pepsi's. It was great. I had my own money, my own car, my independence and the freedom to go wherever, whenever and I was becoming an adult finally.
My Dad left the picture, and left Mom with no job, no money and all the bills to pay. One night I heard her crying, and I got up out of bed and went to comfort her. She looked so pitiful sitting all alone at the table with a pile of bills in front of her. Back in those days, if you owed people money and didn't pay them, they could come to your house and demand you pay them, and we even had them trying to pound the door down. One day at work, I felt so bad I told my boss I had to leave. I went home, and laid down after telling my Mom that they gave us some time off because they were painting the building and putting down new carpet. That wasn't true, but I was getting sick. Sicker than I'd ever been.
Finally, after 3 days, my boss called my Mom and told her that what I had told her wasn't true. He told her I'd been acting strange and that she should take me to a doctor. So they tried to fool me, and told me that they were taking me shopping. They took me to my Grandma's doctor, and after a few minutes with me, he gave them the name of a good psychiatrist. They took me there, and I had a conversation with a Doctor Funk. He called my Mom in after he talked to me, and he had me wait in the waiting room. Then he called me back in and told me I was mentally ill. All I did was look down at the floor. He gave me medicine to take and said he wanted to see me again on Monday. So we got the medicine perscription filled and went home. I took one of the pills, and went outside to sit in the yard. After about 30 minutes, the medicine took effect and I almost fell out of my chair. My brother David came and grabbed me to keep me from falling and he carried me in the house and I fell asleep in my bedroom. I hadn't been able to sleep for 2 weeks. So the next morning I was doing much better. The circles under my eyes were less, and I was able to sit down long enough to eat breakfast. I had been running around all day and night driving places and not sleeping or eating.
I don't know how I survived. He told me also that he wanted me to stay home from work for an undetermined time, until I felt better. My boss came by with my first check, and to get a statement from my doctor telling him what my problem was. I found the paper, and it said I had Schizophrenia. It's a word I learned to be afraid of. I was afraid of myself already anyway, but when I read that I was really afraid of me! As I got better after about a month, I drove to the Library and started reading all kinds of books about it, and finding out there were different types. I was trying to figure it out and get rid of that fear that I had. I don't want you to be afraid of me. More than anything I need your love and understanding. I am not simple minded. I have limitations that make me different from you, but you don't have to be afraid of Grandma or think I might ever hurt you in any way. I don't want to keep things hidden from you because this also ties in to my relationship with Jesus and God the Father, and how they have helped me over the years. He has always been there supporting me, even when my Mom died. Your grandpa has always loved me, and supported me and even when I am sick, he takes care of me. He never left me even though it was difficult to stay. Hopefully you will never see me that way. I never want you to see this disease. That's why Grandma takes medication. It has been very hard to get well. Once, I stopped my medicine because I thought I didn't need it anymore. Then I got really ill and had to go in the hospital. But I was only there 8 days and then I signed myself out and walked home.
This has been a very hard cross to bear. I want you to hear this from me and to know that I take every precaution I can to never let this happen again. I always take my meds, and if I reduce them for some reason, I always tell someone. I am careful with my meds. I take them every day and I am responsible for my mental health and well being by praying, meditating, reading, and sticking to my beliefs. I share a wonderful experience with your Grandpa. Something he has shown me through the years. Someday you may want to read his books too, and make your own judgement. That's a long way off though. So for now, I will just tell you even though my beliefs and grandpa's beliefs are different, we respect each other's belief's and we are both very strong people. We each have so much love for one another and our family and all of you grandchildren. With every day we live, we love you even more.
I was out of work for about 6 months and even when my doctor asked me if I was ready to go back to work, I said no. But he said he didn't want me to give up and not try to function in society. I went back, but I couldn't think straight. I would sit at my desk and cry but they didn't bother me. I think they were afraid to say anything. They gave me easy things to do and were fairly tolerant of my behavior. I had to see my Doctor every 2 weeks at first. He was a good Doctor and even when I needed to be hospitalized, he paid for all my expenses because I didn't have any health insurance. He told me once that I needed to stop feeling sorry for myself, and that made me mad. It made me so mad that I told myself
I'll show him! I decided I'd show him who was feeling sorry for themselves and I just got better and better. There are many was to help people with this disease and one of them is called psychotherapy. Another way is by hypnosis which he did for me and I took all the advice he gave me. I bought a book called "I'm OK
You're OK" and it helped me to find all my weak spots in my psyche, or way of thinking if that makes more sense to you. I did better and better.
Then, one day my Mom decided she'd go see my Dad in Seattle and she took my younger sister with her. My brother David didn't want to stay with me at home, so he went to stay at his girlfriends house. Her name was Barbara and she had a little girl named Larie that I adored. The little girl had long blonde hair and was about 4 years old. Anyway, I was at the house alone and I had borrowed $500.00 to pay off my car loan. One day at work, I thought to myself "I have to keep on working anyway an paying for all my bills, so I may as well enjoy this money!". So, one Friday night I went shopping and bought over $300.00 on clothes and another $40.00 on jewelry. Back then your money bought more and the products were better. I went to the Broadway Department Store and I bought all sorts of things I liked. Then I took myself out to dinner and had a great time even though I was alone! Then, while my Mom was gone and I had spent all my money, I decided I'd go find David and for some reason I had my grandmother with me. I drove to National City to find David, and went to Barbara's house. Her Dad answered the door and said that David and Barbara had gone to a party somewhere and he didn't know where it was. I decided to wait for David and sent my Grandma home in a cab.
I sort of got out of reality that night, and my brother eventually showed up and he and his friends took me to University Hospital. They put me in a room with a lot of other people with problems and left me there until I settled down. They watched me through a window in the door and eventually they took me back out of the room, gave my brother medication for me, and sent me on my way. My car was in the parking lot at the Broadway and I had left my keys in the ignition and the windows were down. I don't know how it didn't get stolen except that God was watching out for me. We went home and I took the medication and went to sleep. The next day David and I went to my Grandma's house and I went in her bedroom and laid down because the medication made me sleepy. I didn't know it but David had called Mom and Dad and told my Dad he neeed to come home because I had lost touch with reality and needed him.
The next thing I remember is waking up and seeing my Dad by my bedside and he hugged me. He had always been sort of afraid of me because I had such a bad temper, but I was no longer the same person. I was pitiful. I had lost so much in my life and it had made me very ill. All the moving and all the changes and having to start over every year or so was more than I could take and the fact that I had a chemical imbalance in my brain was no one's fault. At the time I blamed everyone else for my problems, because I was so mixed up. But now I know it wasn't anyone's fault. Not even mine. It's just a fact of life. There are a lot of people who have this disease. Currently there is no cure, but they have new medicines that keep the disease under control. I take 2 different types of medicine. One kind I have taken for over 20 years. The other one is fairly new and it helps me to sleep and to adjust to changes that happen in my life, just like everyone else. My medicines have been a part of my life since I was 22. I had been sick before that, extremely depressed, but no one took notice. That was when we lived in Minnesota and I was separated from my friends, my boyfriend, and my school and California in general. I had a very difficult time when I flew back to San Diego. Nothing was the same and I gradually couldn't remember being here before. Not even my Mom's house seemed familiar. It was one of the hardest things to happen in my life. My battle had just begun. But today I am doing fine, although now and then I have the urge to stop taking my meds because I think I am well. As I said, there is no known cure. The only way to win with this disease is to keep taking the medicine, and work really hard to solve your mental issues. That's what I do. I read a lot, pray, meditate, and deal with life on a daily basis just like everyone else. There are a lot worse things that could be in my life. I could be blind, homeless, have no family, be crippled or have cancer or multiple sclerosis or polio...the list goes on and on. I am a survivor and I have overcome my greatest enemy, myself.
I am determined to live long enough to see all of you grow up. No one knows when they will die, but I am trying to get healthy physically by losing weight and exercising. I can have an almost normal life by taking my meds and working diligently on my problems. I will live as long as God allows. This is the reason I talk so much about God to you. I have been at the bottom of a deep well and the only thing that helped me get out was God. He brought the right people, the right meds and gave me the stamina and determination I have to get well and enjoy my life. God is my best friend and He brought Grandpa and all of you into my life to love and nurture. He does the impossible. He does miracles, like me, and like Kris. Kris is a survivor too! He's a tough little character! He is so little, but he runs and falls and gets back up and brushes himself off. Watch him. He can be a great lesson for you. Start looking at life with understanding and gain wisdom and knowledge and insight. You are young and have so much to learn. Start learning today, and if you have any questions for me, I will try to answer them openly and honestly. Don't be afraid to ask questions. That's how you learn about the world and it's people.
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