For example, there was a physician in attendance as a student who, towards the end of the session, shared with all what only a few seem to know. He reminded us that a mental illness is just that, an illness. It is biological in nature, therefore, like other illnesses, it responds to appropriate treatment. The challenge we face is helping those who suffer to realize that they suffer from an illness and that they should seek treatment.

There is that “Should” word. A professional peer of mine long, long ago was fond of saying, “Thou shall not ‘should’ on others”. Unless someone is asking for your opinion and they trust you, the word “should” usually results in either a defensive reaction or “shutting down”.

I love the book, “I’m not sick, I don’t need help”, by Xavier Amador. The title alone defines the problem that those of us who love someone who suffers from a mental illness face in total frustration. How do you break through their defensive reaction, or total shut down?

When my daughter, Emily, had her first diagnoses, Bipolar Disorder Rapid Cycle, she was prescribed a number of different psychotropic meds. My reaction? Great! We know what the problem is and the pills will take care of the problem. It took me a year before I was willing to admit that my behavior, as her father, was keeping her from her path to recovery. My behavior more often than not, caused her to shut down. On occasion, she would rise in defiance. The net result was that I was blocking her road to recovery.

But that is another story. It was impossible for me to realize my behavior was having such a negative impact upon Em’s recovery because I didn’t understand the complexities of all that’s involved in someone’s recovery. NAMI’s Family to Family course was the course that opened my eyes.

I assume that if you are reading this, you most likely have a loved one who suffers from a mental illness. If you are a parent, like me, I encourage you to go to NAMI.org to learn more about “Family to Family”. You’ll never solve the problem until you understand the root cause. You’ll never understand the root cause unless you take that first step, seeking the help you need. Once you take that step and begin to understand, then, and only then will you be able to start your own journey on becoming the kind of father your child needs you to be.

Stop looking at the reality of your current family situation and begin to imagine what you want it to be. In my case, my vision was “living in an emotionally safe home to which my family could return at the end of each day in peace and joy.” NAMI’s Family to Family course helped me see the way that vision could become closer to reality.

What are you waiting for? www.nami.org/

How can you not know you are in denial? Not only can’t you see it when you are in it, you don’t believe it when people tell you.

What I do know is that I used to dream dreams, but a year after my daughter, Emily, had her first psychotic episode, I had lost all hope. My dreams disappeared, and I didn’t even know it.

“Denial? Me? I don’t think so!”

Thanks be to God, I finally accepted my new reality. My daughter suffered from a mental illness. Bipolar Disorder is a real illness. The good news is that it responds to appropriate treatment and medication. Together, we started a journey on the road to recovery.

When I started writing ”, “Duct Tape and WD-40 … a parent’s guide to the mysteries of a bipolar child“, I spent time drafting a vision statement. That statement is …

More than anything, I want to work with people who are faced with the unpredictable and often frustrating behaviors of a loved one who suffers from a mental illness. I want to help them to:

• Accept that their loved one suffers from a mental illness.

• Understand that a mental illness, like other illnesses, is treatable.

• Believe that there is hope for recovery.

• Realize that they can make a difference in that recovery.

• Want to learn what it is they can do to help.

The biggest problem that I face is the very first bullet point. How can I help someone accept that their loved one suffers from a mental illness if they don’t pick up the book?

Think about it! According to Glenn Close in the wonderfully done public service promo, “BringChange2Mind”, one out of six adults suffers from a mental illness. As is depicted, but not said, for everyone who suffers, there is a loved one who suffers too; the loved one could be a mother, father, sibling, spouse, friend, or neighbor. So that means that one out of three suffers from a mental illness, directly or indirectly. That means over 100,000,000 people in the USA suffer.

Yet, if you use NAMI’s national membership as a barometer, their membership is far less than a million, or less than 1 % of the target market, those who suffer and their loved ones. That should give you an idea of just how many folks are in denial.

So we need to work harder. There are millions of people who suffer simply because they are in denial. What more can be done to help people to acknowledge that a loved one suffers from a mental illness? Can we talk?

Life changes in a “Blink of an Eye!” My life changed forever as I listened to a voice mail on May 18, 2000. That was when and how I learned of my daughter ‘s, Emily’s, attempted suicide. That was the day that I entered into the world of mental illness, not as member of an extended family dealing with mental health issues, but as a father of a daughter who was ill. My life changed in the blink of an eye.

Everyone one of us has had a “blink of an eye” experience: Lost job, lost wealth, death of a loved one, abandonment, just to name a few.

My fiancée, Kathy, complained about numbness on her right side the morning of May 29th. Her speech, facial expressions, balance were all normal. “I must have slept the wrong way”, was her logical reasoning, and off to work she goes. Two hours later, I get a call from Kathy telling me that she still felt numb and thought she should go and “get checked out”! I immediately left to pick her up and take her to the Emergency Room. Within minutes we discover she had experienced a stroke or a TIA, A TIA is a transient ischemic attack, a “mini stroke” that occurs when a blood clot blocks an artery for a short time. Life changed for Kath and me in “the blink of an eye”.

She is much better today thanks to the prompt diagnosis and treatment she received in the next 24 hours. She had a CAT scan, MRI, and more. She was released from the hospital with a list of additional tests to undergo. She’s now on prescription drugs for blood pressure, cholesterol, and an aspirin once per day.

Kathy does have residual neurological symptoms, in that her right side becomes weak after our walks. She also noticed the same occurrence after serving coffee to several residents at her job; again, when driving in “beep and creep” traffic having to put her foot on the brake frequently.

We are making changes in our life style which include, but not limited to, portion control, decreased sodium intake, limiting alcohol intake, and daily long walks. I’m sure Physical Therapy will be prescribed too.

It is our faith in God that sustains us, especially in times of crisis. Kathy shares my love for “Duct Tape”, focused reflective prayer. “Duct Tape” is an integral part of Kath’s recovery. We spend time in the “Word” each day, seeking wisdom and understanding. We have open and honest dialog with one another in His Presence. We trust in His Word when He says, “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your request to God; and the peace of God which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” (Phil. 4: 6-7) Duct Tape will keep us in alignment with our life style choices.

If you share our faith in Christ, you can help by adding us to your prayer list. Please pray for His help in keeping us on our new path to wellness. What we have is so precious; please pray that we will, indeed, grow old together.

In the mail that morning was an envelope from my mother with only one item inside … her business card. Mom was an artist and had her own “Little Studio” where she taught many a folk the fine art of creating art. Mom taught me many things, but I never caught on to the “art” thing.

It had been more than four weeks since I was held back in my quest to earn my commission as a Naval Flight Officer. I was attending the Naval Aviation Officer Candidate School at Naval Air Station Pensacola, Florida. I could do everything they demanded of me except for 5 chin ups. I passed all the course work required. They even passed me in my understanding of “military barring” … which was a stretch for me.

It was the physical fitness requirements that were my greatest challenge. I had accomplished everything … the obstacle course and “Dipsty Dumpster” included. If you have seen “An Officer and a Gentleman” starring Richard Gere and Debra Wenger, you know what I mean by the “Dipsty Dumpster” and obstacle course. I did it all …. Except for those 5 stupid chin ups.

I remember the first day we were benchmarked on our physical abilities. My Drill Instructor stuck his baton into my belly like he was taking a measurement of my fat. “You might as well quite now, Brown. Fat Bodies like you always DOR (Drop on Request). He achieved his goal. He lit a fire in me that I had never experienced before. I’d be damned if I was going to quit. My Daddy wouldn’t be proud of me if I did.

I stepped up to the chin up bar, jumped and grabbed hold. “Begin!” my DI demanded. “Begin?” I responded. “I’m finished!” I couldn’t do one chin up.

Ten weeks later, I could do two chin ups. The requirement was five. Had it not been for the Viet Nam war and the Navy’s need for aviators, they would have washed me out then and there. But, no! They put me on a PT hold. I was restricted to the barracks, only allowed to go to the gym to work out and to the mess hall to eat.
Week after week for four weeks, that was my life. I could now do three.

Then I opened the envelope my mother had sent in the mail. Inside was her business card, as I said before. On the back of the card, she had written:

Lord, grant me the courage to change that which can be changed;
Serenity to accept that which cannot be changed;
And Wisdom to know one from the other.

I need to openly admit to you that I was not a man of great faith at that point in life. I did enjoy Sunday morning church services because that was the only place the Drill Instructors would not shout at you. Other than that, a strong faith would have been a great hindrance to the life style of a Naval Aviator that I wanted so badly.

I was finally in a place in life where failure was indeed a possibility. I sat on my bunk and read that prayer … I didn’t even know it was the “Serenity Prayer” … and had a conversation with God. I asked Him why me? Why can’t I do these stupid chin ups?

I felt a certain peace that I had never felt before. I left my bunk and went to the head (the bathroom for you non Navy types). There were sturdy bars in the shower stalls that everyone used for chin up exercises. I jumped and grabbed hold of the bar and preceded to do six chin ups. Yes, I said SIX.

I immediately ran to the Duty Office to report my success. My DI said, “Show me”. Back we went to the head. I did the mandatory five. He looked at me and said, “Do it again!” With a deep breath, I jumped, grabbed, and squeaked out five more chin ups. That was a total of 16 within just a few minutes, thanks be to God and adrenalin.

I went out on liberty that night to celebrate my success. Later that same night I lay in my bunk and I cried. I had already gone back on my promise to God … as I have done time and again most of my life.

My mother had influenced my life a thousand miles away. She knew I was depressed because I couldn’t do five chin ups. I later learned that she and dad were secretly hoping that I would wash out, thereby not having to go to war. But they never said that. She just sent me that prayer. I guess her prayers were answered because I never went to war … but that’s another story.

Mothers are like that! They profoundly influence our lives asking little in return. Please remember your mother this weekend.

Not too long ago I learned that one of my daughters was experiencing one of the biggest challenges of her life. I didn’t know what to say or do. Then I thought of my mother. I did what my mother did and sent my daughter the “Serenity Prayer” on the back of my business card. A few days later she called to say thanks. She put it in her wallet which is the same place I put my mom’s card, forty years ago. It’s still there today.

Thanks Mom! I miss you dearly, but am reminded of your gentleness everyday by the art work throughout our home.

Then, at age 81, he said he regretted that decision.

“Why?” I asked. “Didn’t you enjoy your business?” “It’s all that I knew. Yes, I enjoyed my work!” he said.
“Think of it this way, dad. You and mom overcame a huge obstacle in your efforts to rebuild the business after the fire. You never quit. You did what you had to do, and you survived. Do you have any idea how that effort on your part has impacted my life? Quit? Me? Never! You didn’t quit, nor will I.”

He smiled. He had a tear or two in his eyes. Conversation moved on to other less serious matters. We were closer after that night … yet still not close enough.

My dad passed on a couple of years later, in 1986. He lived long enough to enjoy his seeing first granddaughter from my marriage, Emily. He passed away the day after she was baptized as an infant. What causes me to sometimes be sad today are the things we never talked about. Ahh, yes, the unanswered questions in life.

The unanswered questions are the elephants in the living room. You both know what the question is. Neither one of you has the courage to bring it up. It’s easier to pretend it never happened.

My dad went to court when I was in college to fight someone who was attempting to black mail him. He was caught on camera in, let’s just say, a comprising position. He had broken one of the “Big 10”, big time. He was set up, and taken down. But, just like the fire, you couldn’t keep my dad down. Mom, to her credit, stood by his side when she had every right to walk out. Together, they won, and left the court with heads held high.

It was one of those things that I had often thought about yet never had the courage to ask about. Dad, of course, never mentioned it either. My question would have been “Why?” Why would my dad let himself be put in such a situation in the first place?

Well, now I know. There’s a lot of truth to the statement that “an apple doesn’t fall to far from the tree.” Years later, long after my dad died, I found myself in a “comprising position” too. Those who know me well know what I’m talking about. Those who don’t know me, I’m content to let you use your imagination. All I will say is that now, more than a year later, I remain profoundly ashamed of my behavior. If it wasn’t for my ever increasing faith in Christ, I don’t know how I would have survived. Confession and repentance are powerful healing forces. God’s love shines brightly in the eyes of those who love you the most when they extend their forgiveness too.

Unlike my dad, I have started to talk about my indiscretions with both of my daughters. I do not want that to be the elephant in the living room that dies the day that I die without any answers. It is not easy bring up subjects of the past that created great pain in your children’s lives. But there are cycles in life that if ignored, will continue on generation after generation.

I’m beginning to see my own behaviors (I’m not talking the ‘Big 10’ rules here, just the recklessness of the age in question) being repeated in my daughters’ lives. It’s like watching a movie of my own life when I was 20 something. My hope is that through open dialog I can help them not do the “elephant in the living room” thing in their life time. More than that, I want them to experience the same healing I have found through confession and repentance.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not blaming my sins on my father’s because we never talked about it. I’m simply saying that those things my dad and I did talk about were healing for both of us. I need to do for my daughters what my dad did for me. Over time, I hope I can provide a sense of healing for my daughters and me as we all grow older together … before “game over”.

So what’s this to you? What “elephants in the living room” are you ignoring with your children? Don’t let the clock run out before you have that conversation. You, too, can break the cycle, with God’s healing help.

I miss her. Oh, we still get together from time to time, mostly just to exchange life stories. We celebrate victories … we share one another’s pain in life’s disappointments. We hug! We say goodbye.

Every once in a while, I get that call asking for my opinion. Happy, happy, joy, joy. Then the days go by and you don’t hear a thing.

I now know how my own mother felt when I failed to call or visit. If I had it to do over again, I’d visit her more often. But that time is gone. My mom died three years ago this month. At the time, I thought I was paying enough attention to mom. Now, I realize that you can never pay too much attention to your mother or father.

My mom was all too aware of the feelings of guilt that a parent can bestow upon their adult child. She told me stories about her own mother’s guilt laden comments. “Why are you spending all this time painting. You have a house to clean, you know.” That’s why my mom seldom went out of her way to lay a “guilt trip” upon me. Likewise, I try very hard to not lay a guilt trip upon either of my daughters.

Susan’s not married. I’m still her “go to guy” … at least it seems that way. Yes, I know she too has her friends and support systems. Yet, unlike her sister, when push comes to shove, I’m still her “go to guy”.

That’s life! It’s time to live mine and stop living my life through the lives of my children. And that’s exactly what I’m doing. In many ways, I’ve never enjoyed life like I do today. It just seems that no matter how fulfilling your life is, you still ache from time to time for the days when … “It’s 10 PM! Do you know where your child is?”

From 1989 to 1999, my goal was to build my business, The CommonWealth Forum, to the point that it would provide not only income for our family, but income for the families of those who helped in the building of the business. Eventually, I would have a business of significant value that I could sell to another younger consultant.

The CommonWealth Forum provided a safe environment for business owners to meet as informal boards of directors where they can work together, helping each other solve business problems. The rules were simple: what is said there stays there. Competitors are not allowed.

By 1999, I had 8 different Forums here in Central PA serving the Harrisburg, York, and Lancaster metro areas. Each Forum had 10 to 12 members. Four of my peers were working with me, helping by facilitating a forum, and in turn, building their own consulting business. We had an 85% renewal rate each year. We had a well oiled process for growing each forum individually and collectively. Life was good.

Then I hit the white waters of personal crisis. As my daughter, Emily, entered middle school, her grades began to fall. This made no sense to me since her IQ borders the genius category. She began to miss more and more school days due to complaints of illness. Our family dinner time became more turbulent than warm and loving for that’s when I would choose to challenge Emily and her decreasing academic performance. The family doctor suggested an antidepressant for Emily. We sought out appropriate counseling to help Emily deal with depression. While this was happening, I began to lose focus on my business.

In 1999 Emily’s grades continued to fall. In early 2000, Emily’s use of the internet was increasing. We took her computer privileges away to no avail. She simply walked to the library which was one block away and continued her use of the internet. It felt like I was losing all control.

I was in Maryland in April of 2000 conducting a workshop for a client. There were a couple hundred participants. I was doing what it was I love to do when suddenly my session was interrupted by an emergency phone call from my administrative assistant. Ginny had worked with me for almost 10 years. She never called out of an emergency before. I gave the group an assignment then went and returned the call. Ginny told me that the local police were there in my office with Emily wanting to interview her. Ginny told them no way. She needed to inform me first.

It seems that Emily had reported that she had been approached by an adult male and felt threatened. They wanted to talk to her to get a description. I got them to post pone the interview with the promise that I’d be home within 3 hours. Then and only then could they interview my daughter.

A month later, Emily attempts suicide. What happened next is what “Duct Tape and WD-40…a parent’s guide to the mysteries of a bipolar child” is all about.

My life was totally upside down. My ability to focus on business completely disappeared. I began to lose forum members. I began to downsize the number of forums. I began to lose forum facilitators. I began to lose money. And the sad part of all this was that I didn’t care.

As I sat in one of many meetings with my wife and her psychiatrist, the psychiatrist suddenly expressed concern for me. He said that having known me for a few years he has noticed that I no longer display any affect. What did he mean? I no longer smiled or frowned. My facial expressions were completely neutral. I was exhibiting symptoms of depression. He put me on an antidepressant.

As I look back upon the price I paid as a business owner, my daughter’s illness cost me 4 years in loss revenues. It began the year prior to her first psychiatric hospitalization. It continued to worsen as denial took over my life. It continued when I realized that my own behavior was not helping Emily at all, causing me to reinvent my role as father. By the time Emily was on her road to recovery, I had lost almost all that I had built in the CommonWealth Forum. The most devastating loss was my marriage of 31 years. I felt completely defeated in life on so many levels.

Today, I’m healthy and happy. Emily continues her road to recovery. As I tell folks who ask, she has been married for going on three years to a man who understands her illness and loves her deeply. She is gainfully employed in a job she enjoys for more than 2 years. And, best of all, she no longer asks me for money.

I have found the person I want to grow old with in my life. We are compatible in so many ways.
My cardiologist doesn’t want to see me for another year. It’s been two years since I had my last stress test. He’s content to wait another year before I have one. I no longer take an antidepressant. Finally, I can focus on business again.

So what’s the point to all this? I watched a wonderful video clip featuring Glenn Close and her sister who suffers from Bipolar Disorder. If you haven’t seen it I hope you will take time now to click here.

In the video, Glenn uses the statistic that one in six adults will experience a mental illness sometime in their life. If you own your own business, divide the number of employees on your payroll by six. That’s how many folks you have employed that will fall into this category. Add to that the fact that each of these folks has someone who loves them …. A partner, a parent, a sibling, a child….who also suffers just as I suffered. That means you now have the potential of two out of six employees somehow affected by the devastation of a mental illness.
While they are in the depths of the illness, they cannot focus. They may be present at work, but their mind is elsewhere. Their work performance begins to falter. What are you going to do?

That’s a question worth pondering.

We had our preconference preparation meeting a few days before we left for Raleigh, NC. I gave Em a couple of ideas, not as her father, but as her public speaking coach. She took those ideas to heart and “hit the ball out of the park”.

She used stories to illustrate her points. She had two concise messages: one for parents, and one for her peers. The feedback from the audience was immediate and extremely positive.

Don’t take my word for it. Becky Faucette from NAMI NC just wrote to say about Emily, “I know you must be so proud of her. She was so well spoken and meaningful.”

If you want to know what she said that was so powerful, why not visit her blog and ask her.

All I have to say is that I’m one proud Daddy! Thanks, Em.

More years ago then I care to remember, there was a very real leader in my life. This leader was not my boss. Matter of fact, this leader had nothing to do at all with the organization which employed me. This leader was the President of the Pennsylvania Jaycees. At the time, I was President of the Camp Hill Jaycees.

My interactions with this leader were few and far between. Whenever we did interact, he would speak about the future. He would paint a word picture describing what a successful chapter looks like. He helped us see how the three strategies of the US Jaycees, if used correctly, would produce great results. He inspired me to want to do great things.

Following his lead, our local chapter climbed out of the depths of the fear of losing our charter to being ranked among the top 25 chapters in the state. There was no monetary award attached to this accomplish. There was simply a compelling vision to guide us, a series of proven strategies to follow, and a never ending passion to see it through.

It was only two years later that I began my first business. My vision, my passion, helped me overcome so many obstacles in so many ways. It was this vision, and this passion that allowed me to build a business which met many goals.

But in the year 2000, my vision and passion gave way to a greater concern, that of the survival of my daughter. An attempted suicide of a teenage child will definitely blind side you, and knock you off game.

As time went on, I eventually got back on track. However, there was a new track beginning to develop. I’m still passionate about my business. But my passion for a new vision continues to grow stronger and stronger every day.

What is this new vision? More than anything, I want to work with people who are faced with the unpredictable and often frustrating behaviors of a loved one who suffers from a mental illness. I want to help them to:

• Accept that their loved one suffers from a mental illness.

• Understand that a mental illness, like other illnesses, is treatable.

• Believe that there is hope for recovery.

• Realize that they can make a difference in that recovery.

• Want to learn what it is they can do to help.

What does Duct Tape have to do with this? What does Duct Tape have to do with leadership?

I use duct tape every day. Every day, I read my vision statement. Every day, I focus! Every day, I reflect. What am I doing that is working, for those are the things I want to be sure to continue. What am I doing that is not working? These are the things I need to stop doing. What is something new, something that I haven’t tried before but might work?

If I ever expect others to follow me, I better have a pretty clear vision of where I’m headed. A daily dose of Duct Tape guarantees just that.