When you first hear the news that your child will be mentally slower than their peers, your first thought is for them. Their future. Will they perform independently as an adult? How will they cope if you died while they are still children? What will be for them?
As a Parent, your last thought is for yourself. It's the greatest gift of being a parent with a child who has more needs than others. You immediately become selfless. All thoughts of how you will get through these years goes out the window and is replaced with a force from within to help your child.
Being gifted with a child with needs is a blessing. You learn so much as I'm sure all of you out there would agree, you learn to be strong. You develop this amazing patience, love, acceptance, consistency and the ability to function with little sleep.
My last child has Dyspraxia, which in her means, immaturity for her age. As her 11 year old body is growing into puberty, she is a happy six year old, horrified at the thoughts of growing up changes happening to her body and not ready to hear it!
She has lots of conditions inside that diagnosis, but one of them is ADHD. She is impulsive, excitable and hyper active. (She could have been badly behaved, but thankfully, I got some very good help with behavior when she was four and it worked really well. It's really simple, it's not accepting bad behavior from your little tots. Giving them consequences and not pushing them into situations that they are mentally not up to. And lots of praise for good behavior!)
As I got her first call (Mammy?) from her room this morning in the pitch dark, I looked to see it was 5.30am.
She's awake. She can't go back to sleep. There is a reason she awoke this morning an hour earlier than usual and it's halloween dress up day in school. She is going to be a nerd. She finally has the so wished for braces to add to her nerdity. She can't wait to dress up. And I have a lot of work ahead of me, so I may as well get up and get organized before she leaves for school.
As I was making my coffee, I thought, 'You wouldn't want to be a lazy Mum with a child like mine, nor an unfit one, nor too old.' (It doesn't mean I don't feel all of these symptoms this morning!)
My 11 year old also has sensory difficulties and this morning she's all clogged up from a cold. I begin a nasal wash with salt and water, to her dismay, but she knows it makes her feel better. She then has a good breakfast and we begin the task of washing her, hair brushing, plaiting, hair color spray, nail varnish, clothes, makeup. She needs me to help with all these things as she can't do it by herself. I am pretty good at grooming and hygene as I was a hairdresser and beauty therapist in my day, so my skills aren't lost.
In the meantime, she is so excited, she can't sit down. At this point, I can't really take my eyes off her, because anything could happen. Thankfully, it's 9am and my 20 year old daughter is dropping her to school this morning as I am not dressed and my house is now a mess.
My 11 year old doesn't need an SNA in school as she is really well behaved and they have her in a good routine, but they do watch her and keep an eye on her, so I know she's safe. I will pick her up at 3pm and she will be exhausted and sometimes deflated, if the day didn't go to plan.
As I sit here writing this with a thousands things to do today and a thousand things to worry about, all I'm feeling is blessed.
Jean xxx
Friday 23 October 2015
Sunday 11 October 2015
Social difficulties for children…...
Someone once told me that children with Dyspraxia constantly eat all the time as they never feel full. Now, this wasn't a medical opinion, it was just an observation the woman had made about a nephew of hers. Despite all of my daughter Yasmin's learning difficulties, I was worried about this the most. Yasmin did indeed want to eat a lot and I was wondering how I could prevent her from becoming obese in her life, especially when she becomes an adult.
Firstly, the least thing I could do, was make sure I cooked proper dinners at home. Yasmin thankfully likes all kinds of food, unless it's spicy, so I could easily get her to eat delicious chicken and vegetable stews and other rich and healthy vegetarian stews, with all sorts of veg. She loves salmon and steak too, so I have no excuse not to cook these foods, (when I can afford it!)
But she is like any other child too and she loves pizza, crisps, chips, sweets and soda's too. And trying to keep these in moderation is difficult, especially when Yasmin is at a social occasion, like her friends many birthday party's. Yasmin will sit at the table and eat a lot of goodies one after the other. She's not really interacting with her pals and they aren't interacting with her.
And I have discovered something. It's not that Yasmin wants to sit there and eat and not talk, it is because she can't maintain a conversation on her peer's level. She has a social immaturity. She 'fits in' as a normal 11 year old if she's munching on her food. She's busy. She doesn't have to try make a normal conversation.
And you know, this does sadden me a bit. I worry that she's being left out. Her friends are very kind to her, so I don't have to worry on that level.
So, I then have to remind myself at how well she is doing.
Thankfully, she loves the out doors and is always active, so that balances her appetite and keeps her body healthy. She loves her pony and show jumping and despite her poor muscle strength, she has achieved to get her stubborn pony to jump over the 80's course. She has a great drive. This is the good part of her ADHD diagnosis. She's very active and she's impulsive. This may prevent her from being afraid of tackling the high jumps.
She also never gives up.
Children with learning difficulties often have a difficulty in communicating their emotions; Their fears, their worries, when they are sad. They don't move into the next stage of development from childhood into emotional maturity. So when their bodies reach puberty, their minds are not ready for it.
This causes a lot of problems for young teenagers and their parents, which is why we and they have problems with the transition of secondary school.
Parents often miss the fact that their child may have a learning or social difficulty. And it's not their fault completely, especially if it is their first child. We all make more mistakes on our first child and I live to tell the tale!
I think the best lesson I learned in raising my children is to accept them for who they are. And don't push them into situations that they are not ready for. We all make the mistake of assuming our child is really assertive and well able just because they talk well and look older for their years. But if they're ten, they are only ten!
Children with social difficulties can lose their trust for their parents very quickly after just one mistake. And they will not share things with you after that. I remember I embarrassed Yasmin at age seven, by demanding why her friends wouldn't play with her!! After that everything is fine with Yasmin. She won't tell me when she's sick, feeling sad, lonely or bullied.
I've worked hard on my parenting skills since that day and I see the benefits of my now proper parenting, but it's a daily process.
Meeting the emotional needs of children is a challenging job. It's not for the faint hearted.
But it is the difference in raising a child to reach their full potential or leaving them to the difficulties of the harsh world on their own.
You may all realise this already, but these are the kids who end up suffering with depression, turning to crime/drugs and alcohol abuse.
Most of our services for children with social difficulties want to put our kids on tablets.
To calm them down.
I think the psychologists who take the time to listen to whats going on for the kids and their parents are the ones who give the correct diagnosis.
Not apposed to medication at all, but as my doctor said to me when I was 22, 'Yes, you probably do have a bit of depression, but before we go down the route of medication, lets figure it out first.'
It's a tricky one!
Jean xx
Firstly, the least thing I could do, was make sure I cooked proper dinners at home. Yasmin thankfully likes all kinds of food, unless it's spicy, so I could easily get her to eat delicious chicken and vegetable stews and other rich and healthy vegetarian stews, with all sorts of veg. She loves salmon and steak too, so I have no excuse not to cook these foods, (when I can afford it!)
But she is like any other child too and she loves pizza, crisps, chips, sweets and soda's too. And trying to keep these in moderation is difficult, especially when Yasmin is at a social occasion, like her friends many birthday party's. Yasmin will sit at the table and eat a lot of goodies one after the other. She's not really interacting with her pals and they aren't interacting with her.
And I have discovered something. It's not that Yasmin wants to sit there and eat and not talk, it is because she can't maintain a conversation on her peer's level. She has a social immaturity. She 'fits in' as a normal 11 year old if she's munching on her food. She's busy. She doesn't have to try make a normal conversation.
And you know, this does sadden me a bit. I worry that she's being left out. Her friends are very kind to her, so I don't have to worry on that level.
So, I then have to remind myself at how well she is doing.
Thankfully, she loves the out doors and is always active, so that balances her appetite and keeps her body healthy. She loves her pony and show jumping and despite her poor muscle strength, she has achieved to get her stubborn pony to jump over the 80's course. She has a great drive. This is the good part of her ADHD diagnosis. She's very active and she's impulsive. This may prevent her from being afraid of tackling the high jumps.
She also never gives up.
Children with learning difficulties often have a difficulty in communicating their emotions; Their fears, their worries, when they are sad. They don't move into the next stage of development from childhood into emotional maturity. So when their bodies reach puberty, their minds are not ready for it.
This causes a lot of problems for young teenagers and their parents, which is why we and they have problems with the transition of secondary school.
Parents often miss the fact that their child may have a learning or social difficulty. And it's not their fault completely, especially if it is their first child. We all make more mistakes on our first child and I live to tell the tale!
I think the best lesson I learned in raising my children is to accept them for who they are. And don't push them into situations that they are not ready for. We all make the mistake of assuming our child is really assertive and well able just because they talk well and look older for their years. But if they're ten, they are only ten!
Children with social difficulties can lose their trust for their parents very quickly after just one mistake. And they will not share things with you after that. I remember I embarrassed Yasmin at age seven, by demanding why her friends wouldn't play with her!! After that everything is fine with Yasmin. She won't tell me when she's sick, feeling sad, lonely or bullied.
I've worked hard on my parenting skills since that day and I see the benefits of my now proper parenting, but it's a daily process.
Meeting the emotional needs of children is a challenging job. It's not for the faint hearted.
But it is the difference in raising a child to reach their full potential or leaving them to the difficulties of the harsh world on their own.
You may all realise this already, but these are the kids who end up suffering with depression, turning to crime/drugs and alcohol abuse.
Most of our services for children with social difficulties want to put our kids on tablets.
To calm them down.
I think the psychologists who take the time to listen to whats going on for the kids and their parents are the ones who give the correct diagnosis.
Not apposed to medication at all, but as my doctor said to me when I was 22, 'Yes, you probably do have a bit of depression, but before we go down the route of medication, lets figure it out first.'
It's a tricky one!
Jean xx
Wednesday 7 October 2015
Dignity in Mental Health
How indeed do we keep our dignity while suffering a mental illness?
As a 48 year old woman who suffers from depression, I'm speaking from my own experience but I can imagine it can be somewhat like this for others too.
Depression for me began when I hit puberty, at about ten years of age. Ok, so I had a parent that was angry and aggressive due to his alcohol issue and his behaviour made me afraid. I didn't know how to deal with this fear as a child, so I hid it for the most part. I was able to go about my duties as a child with my friends and appear normal. I did cry when there were difficult times at home and I did wish I was dead by the time I was 14, and I even contemplated taking my own life then to escape the fear.
But nobody knew I was depressed, not even me. I was able to get on with things. I appeared to be a normal, happy, boisterous, teenager on the outside. I looked normal (albeit an ugly duck). I didn't look depressed. I was young. My face hadn't learned to be haggard with depression at that point in my life.
My behaviour changed dramatically after I had my first child at 22 when I was either crying inconsolably or extremely angry. I suspected I could be depressed but couldn't see that any of these emotions were related to depression. I just thought I was a horrible person. My doctor encouraged me down the road of self help, rather than medication at the time and it was the right thing to do, as I needed to learn about myself.
I worked really well in the self help program and I definitely improved. I was a very busy young woman at that time with working full time, but I seemed to be managing.
When I had my second child six years later at age 28, I again went into a depression. It was fear based. I was irrational. I spoke about a trip away to Majorca in 1996 with my husband in my book (My Beautiful Flower) without the kids, where I was convinced Saddam Hussein was going to blow up Ireland while I was gone. I still remember the two kind Scottish ladies faces when I told them, while I was waiting anxiously for the news. They must have thought I was mad!
I was full of fear. But once I was home safely in Ireland, I was able to perform again and appear to be normal to the outside world. I knew I was struggling with something inside me, but I wasn't sure what it was.
From the age of 34. I began to be less and less able to control or hide my outbursts. I found everything difficult; The workplace, my relationship with my husband and my relationships with my kids. By the time my last child came along 11 years ago, I was 38 and I knew I was suffering with depression. I couldn't function and I now had a huge hatred for myself and my face was beginning to tell the tale. I was haggard looking. I also felt physically ill and I had no interest in my appearance. Because I was aware of all this, I didn't want to see anybody, nor talk to anybody. I couldn't even face the doctor at my worst. I had to wait till my emotions recovered a bit. No matter how mentally ill I was, I couldn't go to the doctor looking and acting the way I did. (This is important because the doctor is not getting a real record of your illness, because of your infrequent visits!)
This is more common than you would imagine. The last thing any person wants to be seen as, is some mad women sobbing out of control and looking a wreck and having to sit and wait in a waiting room exposed to all.
This is the reason why doctors don't diagnose depression correctly. They misread the patient. If the patient looks presentable, it must mean they are well enough. They don't listen to the patient. They are unsympathetic to the patient. They send them home with, 'Ah you're grand' attitude. That's why sometimes patients may go and take their own life. They feel there is no help. They hate themselves. There is no escape.
I think the worst thing for us sufferers of Depression is that your personality is exposed or the very worst side of it is exposed. Despite your mental illness, you still feel embarrassment and shame. You dislike yourself. And because of the sensitivity of the nature of your illness, you're easily put off from getting help by insensitive administrators, nurses and doctors. You also have to divulge innermost thoughts to the Doctor in order to get proper help and most of us don't want to do that or can't.
Hospital staff's insensitive behaviour towards me only confirmed my feelings of unworthy-ness to myself by treating me with no dignity. I was an unworthy person. I hated myself.
My experience of these nurses and doctors would prevent me from going there for future help. And that is the pity. That will just give you an idea of how many people could be in my position......
Amazingly enough I found the ambulance men, during my spell of panic attacks, more understanding and knowledgable, so I must commend them.
I, like many others was prescribed medication, which I'm still on, but for me, it helped clear the clouds. It didn't have any nasty side effects, so it suited me. But I also had a lot of work to do on myself. I had to find my way out of the clouds completely.
I had to figure me out. I asked God for help.
I did get fantastic guidelines from one very good therapist, Linda Keen from the UK, who was in Ireland for a few years, but inevitably, I was going to have to help myself. I looked at my personality and I could see where I was letting myself down. I had to start being good to me, respect me, accept me.
I apologized to my family for the way I behaved while I was depressed and I worked hard on changing. I changed. I didn't go back to that person.
I began to practice positive thinking and gratitude. I focused on myself and released my mind from negative resentments. This really started to turn my life around. I took fresh air walks everyday and I truly felt God's guidance. I ate well and slept well.
I began to fell happy. Secure. Confidence in myself.
I am also conscious of treating people with compassion, respect and dignity.
Because I know for a fact, that it would make a huge difference to people in pain.
Jean xx
As a 48 year old woman who suffers from depression, I'm speaking from my own experience but I can imagine it can be somewhat like this for others too.
Depression for me began when I hit puberty, at about ten years of age. Ok, so I had a parent that was angry and aggressive due to his alcohol issue and his behaviour made me afraid. I didn't know how to deal with this fear as a child, so I hid it for the most part. I was able to go about my duties as a child with my friends and appear normal. I did cry when there were difficult times at home and I did wish I was dead by the time I was 14, and I even contemplated taking my own life then to escape the fear.
But nobody knew I was depressed, not even me. I was able to get on with things. I appeared to be a normal, happy, boisterous, teenager on the outside. I looked normal (albeit an ugly duck). I didn't look depressed. I was young. My face hadn't learned to be haggard with depression at that point in my life.
My behaviour changed dramatically after I had my first child at 22 when I was either crying inconsolably or extremely angry. I suspected I could be depressed but couldn't see that any of these emotions were related to depression. I just thought I was a horrible person. My doctor encouraged me down the road of self help, rather than medication at the time and it was the right thing to do, as I needed to learn about myself.
I worked really well in the self help program and I definitely improved. I was a very busy young woman at that time with working full time, but I seemed to be managing.
When I had my second child six years later at age 28, I again went into a depression. It was fear based. I was irrational. I spoke about a trip away to Majorca in 1996 with my husband in my book (My Beautiful Flower) without the kids, where I was convinced Saddam Hussein was going to blow up Ireland while I was gone. I still remember the two kind Scottish ladies faces when I told them, while I was waiting anxiously for the news. They must have thought I was mad!
I was full of fear. But once I was home safely in Ireland, I was able to perform again and appear to be normal to the outside world. I knew I was struggling with something inside me, but I wasn't sure what it was.
From the age of 34. I began to be less and less able to control or hide my outbursts. I found everything difficult; The workplace, my relationship with my husband and my relationships with my kids. By the time my last child came along 11 years ago, I was 38 and I knew I was suffering with depression. I couldn't function and I now had a huge hatred for myself and my face was beginning to tell the tale. I was haggard looking. I also felt physically ill and I had no interest in my appearance. Because I was aware of all this, I didn't want to see anybody, nor talk to anybody. I couldn't even face the doctor at my worst. I had to wait till my emotions recovered a bit. No matter how mentally ill I was, I couldn't go to the doctor looking and acting the way I did. (This is important because the doctor is not getting a real record of your illness, because of your infrequent visits!)
This is more common than you would imagine. The last thing any person wants to be seen as, is some mad women sobbing out of control and looking a wreck and having to sit and wait in a waiting room exposed to all.
This is the reason why doctors don't diagnose depression correctly. They misread the patient. If the patient looks presentable, it must mean they are well enough. They don't listen to the patient. They are unsympathetic to the patient. They send them home with, 'Ah you're grand' attitude. That's why sometimes patients may go and take their own life. They feel there is no help. They hate themselves. There is no escape.
I think the worst thing for us sufferers of Depression is that your personality is exposed or the very worst side of it is exposed. Despite your mental illness, you still feel embarrassment and shame. You dislike yourself. And because of the sensitivity of the nature of your illness, you're easily put off from getting help by insensitive administrators, nurses and doctors. You also have to divulge innermost thoughts to the Doctor in order to get proper help and most of us don't want to do that or can't.
Hospital staff's insensitive behaviour towards me only confirmed my feelings of unworthy-ness to myself by treating me with no dignity. I was an unworthy person. I hated myself.
My experience of these nurses and doctors would prevent me from going there for future help. And that is the pity. That will just give you an idea of how many people could be in my position......
Amazingly enough I found the ambulance men, during my spell of panic attacks, more understanding and knowledgable, so I must commend them.
I, like many others was prescribed medication, which I'm still on, but for me, it helped clear the clouds. It didn't have any nasty side effects, so it suited me. But I also had a lot of work to do on myself. I had to find my way out of the clouds completely.
I had to figure me out. I asked God for help.
I did get fantastic guidelines from one very good therapist, Linda Keen from the UK, who was in Ireland for a few years, but inevitably, I was going to have to help myself. I looked at my personality and I could see where I was letting myself down. I had to start being good to me, respect me, accept me.
I apologized to my family for the way I behaved while I was depressed and I worked hard on changing. I changed. I didn't go back to that person.
I began to practice positive thinking and gratitude. I focused on myself and released my mind from negative resentments. This really started to turn my life around. I took fresh air walks everyday and I truly felt God's guidance. I ate well and slept well.
I began to fell happy. Secure. Confidence in myself.
I am also conscious of treating people with compassion, respect and dignity.
Because I know for a fact, that it would make a huge difference to people in pain.
Jean xx
Friday 2 October 2015
Young killers!
Blatant Young killers are storming our television's screens daily. No country or city has escaped their brutality. They have blown up airports and planes during flights, terrifying passengers in their final moments of life. They have shot innocent people unaware of their imminent demise. They have run people over in their huge trucks like dirty cockroach's whilst all the time shooting them to make sure they have not survived.
They are able to get their weapons easily and their qualification to shoot, but it's the complexity of these young killers minds that gives them the justification to kill another human being that is so scary. Their lack of conscience. Because this young breed of men can end the world with their plague should they choose. And like any terminating disease, it's almost impossible to find the source.
How are these young men attracted to the killing organizations that justify their murderous actions?
The human being's weakness is security, inclusion. And the leaders of these organizations know what type of young man to target and how. It's almost as simple as luring a child with sweets. They pull these young men in with complements and promises of success, while gently brainwashing them in the process. Brainwashing is a way of changing one's mind. It doesn't need to be drug induced to do so, or bashing a person's head in. On the contrary, it's working on a mind that may have some belief or awareness of a certain plight and then filling it with reassurances and examples.
So, before they know it, these young men are in too deep and they can't escape even if they wanted to. They are sent on a killing spree with bombs tied around their waste waiting to detonate. For someone else's hate.
The leaders of that hatred will not put their face's nor bodies in the firing line, for fear of recognition.
There will be no dying young for them.
The ownership of power soon leaves the young man's face as realization dawns on him.
But then it's too late for all.
Jean xxx
They are able to get their weapons easily and their qualification to shoot, but it's the complexity of these young killers minds that gives them the justification to kill another human being that is so scary. Their lack of conscience. Because this young breed of men can end the world with their plague should they choose. And like any terminating disease, it's almost impossible to find the source.
How are these young men attracted to the killing organizations that justify their murderous actions?
The human being's weakness is security, inclusion. And the leaders of these organizations know what type of young man to target and how. It's almost as simple as luring a child with sweets. They pull these young men in with complements and promises of success, while gently brainwashing them in the process. Brainwashing is a way of changing one's mind. It doesn't need to be drug induced to do so, or bashing a person's head in. On the contrary, it's working on a mind that may have some belief or awareness of a certain plight and then filling it with reassurances and examples.
So, before they know it, these young men are in too deep and they can't escape even if they wanted to. They are sent on a killing spree with bombs tied around their waste waiting to detonate. For someone else's hate.
The leaders of that hatred will not put their face's nor bodies in the firing line, for fear of recognition.
There will be no dying young for them.
The ownership of power soon leaves the young man's face as realization dawns on him.
But then it's too late for all.
Jean xxx
Wednesday 23 September 2015
An Uneducated Author....
A lover of books all of my 48 years, I'm trying to remember when that first gifted moment was that I discovered the joy of reading. As a four year old girl, I adored picture story books where the colorful characters told most of the story. I thought I would miss those types of books at age seven as I moved on to those without pictures, but as my own imagination developed, the pictures in my mind were beautifully explicit, leading me on to my real love of reading.
My Dad, an uneducated man, loved reading and he would encourage myself and my five sisters to read the newspapers, telling us the importance of current affairs. He also liked to play a 'Capital's' game with us, where every Friday he would ask each of us the names of the capital cities from around the World. He would then go and buy us our favorite weekly magazine that he had pre-ordered in our local shop. The beautiful glossy magazines would have each of our six names written on the covers.
I was happy to leave school at sixteen and get a job as a hairdresser. There wasn't an option to go to college. It just wasn't the done thing in the north side of Dublin city, so I didn't feel I missed out on anything.
I gave hairdressing my best shot for almost thirty years, but something didn't feel right. I just couldn't be successful at it and I wanted success in my life. Success in the sense of a secured income from my own job. I couldn't get that from hairdressing.
Towards the latter few years, I found myself writing thoughts down on little scraps of paper and popping them into my bedside locker. I didn't know exactly what I intended to do with them but the thoughts or words were the inspirational kind. Sometimes they were words that my little girl Yasmin would say that made me smile, or sometimes it was information I had just heard from someone on the radio. Sometimes they would be words and thoughts of my own that I had to write down immediately, in case I lost them from my memory for ever.
I knew after I had read a great book, in the back of mind I would think 'Wouldn't it be great to be able to write like that?' But I knew for sure that I wouldn't know where to start. That I didn't have the skill nor the education.
Until one day, three years ago almost to the day, I got all of my pieces of paper and notebooks from my bedside locker and I began.
One thing that I noticed about me through my life was that I always had an opinion about things. The Human Being's plight had an impression on me. I was and still am, truly touched by the unfairness of racialism, the suffering of the poor and the destruction of their life at the hands of their murderous leaders. I would often phone radio hosts with my opinions until I realized, that I should probably write these communications down as I also would have the chance to express my words properly.
One of the things that had prevented me from writing in the past was my technology skills. Where would I start writing on my computer? What section? I didn't have 'Word' on my apple, so I chose I-writer. I found that I was able to type chapters and then save them onto the computer. Fab! I couldn't believe my luck! It was working! I kept re-checking the files to be sure I hadn't lost any of my precious words and it was all systems go. I wrote about my own personal struggles and growth in my life. The words flowed and I was quite amazed at that. I was amazed also to find that it wasn't a bad story. In fact, it was a little good!
When it came for me to copy my story onto a disc and send it to a publisher, I unplugged my whole computer and brought it down to a very amused lad in the computer shop in my local mall saying "Please copy this for me!"
Three years on and my writing and my computer skills have improved!
I've found my passion in life is now writing and as I write my stories, I'm doing so from the eye of a reader. I feel in my gut if something is repetitive and unhelpful.
I also know how to use 'word' and my only delay from attaching and saving files is our sometimes unreliable network!
It's true what they say about learning from your mistakes and the computer is such a great tool in that words are easily erased and re-written, unlike the hand written books of past authors from not too many years ago!
I can see that I'm improving with each piece I write and I aspire to be a great writer. My regular blogs are about life in general and are informative and sometimes even funny!
There is a whole world of talent out there and it's hard to get your work noticed, but there's room for us all. I like to take note of some inspirational quotes to keep me focused and motivated and one of my favorite is Walt Disney's (shortened version) "When you do something, do it well! Do it so well, that people will want to re-visit it time and time again!"
Jean Murray
My Dad, an uneducated man, loved reading and he would encourage myself and my five sisters to read the newspapers, telling us the importance of current affairs. He also liked to play a 'Capital's' game with us, where every Friday he would ask each of us the names of the capital cities from around the World. He would then go and buy us our favorite weekly magazine that he had pre-ordered in our local shop. The beautiful glossy magazines would have each of our six names written on the covers.
I was happy to leave school at sixteen and get a job as a hairdresser. There wasn't an option to go to college. It just wasn't the done thing in the north side of Dublin city, so I didn't feel I missed out on anything.
I gave hairdressing my best shot for almost thirty years, but something didn't feel right. I just couldn't be successful at it and I wanted success in my life. Success in the sense of a secured income from my own job. I couldn't get that from hairdressing.
Towards the latter few years, I found myself writing thoughts down on little scraps of paper and popping them into my bedside locker. I didn't know exactly what I intended to do with them but the thoughts or words were the inspirational kind. Sometimes they were words that my little girl Yasmin would say that made me smile, or sometimes it was information I had just heard from someone on the radio. Sometimes they would be words and thoughts of my own that I had to write down immediately, in case I lost them from my memory for ever.
I knew after I had read a great book, in the back of mind I would think 'Wouldn't it be great to be able to write like that?' But I knew for sure that I wouldn't know where to start. That I didn't have the skill nor the education.
Until one day, three years ago almost to the day, I got all of my pieces of paper and notebooks from my bedside locker and I began.
One thing that I noticed about me through my life was that I always had an opinion about things. The Human Being's plight had an impression on me. I was and still am, truly touched by the unfairness of racialism, the suffering of the poor and the destruction of their life at the hands of their murderous leaders. I would often phone radio hosts with my opinions until I realized, that I should probably write these communications down as I also would have the chance to express my words properly.
One of the things that had prevented me from writing in the past was my technology skills. Where would I start writing on my computer? What section? I didn't have 'Word' on my apple, so I chose I-writer. I found that I was able to type chapters and then save them onto the computer. Fab! I couldn't believe my luck! It was working! I kept re-checking the files to be sure I hadn't lost any of my precious words and it was all systems go. I wrote about my own personal struggles and growth in my life. The words flowed and I was quite amazed at that. I was amazed also to find that it wasn't a bad story. In fact, it was a little good!
When it came for me to copy my story onto a disc and send it to a publisher, I unplugged my whole computer and brought it down to a very amused lad in the computer shop in my local mall saying "Please copy this for me!"
Three years on and my writing and my computer skills have improved!
I've found my passion in life is now writing and as I write my stories, I'm doing so from the eye of a reader. I feel in my gut if something is repetitive and unhelpful.
I also know how to use 'word' and my only delay from attaching and saving files is our sometimes unreliable network!
It's true what they say about learning from your mistakes and the computer is such a great tool in that words are easily erased and re-written, unlike the hand written books of past authors from not too many years ago!
I can see that I'm improving with each piece I write and I aspire to be a great writer. My regular blogs are about life in general and are informative and sometimes even funny!
There is a whole world of talent out there and it's hard to get your work noticed, but there's room for us all. I like to take note of some inspirational quotes to keep me focused and motivated and one of my favorite is Walt Disney's (shortened version) "When you do something, do it well! Do it so well, that people will want to re-visit it time and time again!"
Jean Murray
Saturday 19 September 2015
The plight of the Irish Homeless....
Listening to Pat Kenny this morning on Newstalk on my way to feed our pony in Broadmeadows Stables, they were talking about the disturbance the new Luas line is causing in Dublin city. The Newstalk reporters were interviewing people on the street and they came across this homeless woman. She was pointing out in her broad North side accent that the government should put the 360 million euros into providing homes for the homeless. I smiled when she went on to say she wasn't long out of prison for armed robbery and now she was living on the streets again. The reporter obviously not in touch with poor people's reality, (and I'm not holding this against him) asked her 'Was she proud of her herself?' To which she replied, "No, I didn't get a Blue Peter badge for my behavior! Duh! But I did what I did to provide for my children."
You know, in this woman's uneducated life full of poverty and addiction, she still tried to provide for her children in the only way she knew. And what happened to her children while she went to prison? Obviously they ended up in care. Who paid for all this prison and children's care at a very high cost? The government.
So where are the government going wrong? And why is the Homeless situation so bad that women have to live on the street with their children?
Deeply effected by the conditions that the homeless people live in, I wrote a poem about it and it's in my book 'My Beautiful Flower' called Under the Great Gates of The Bank of Ireland.
Unfortunately, most of the people I see homeless are effected with addition problems. I deeply sympathize with people with addictions as I have experienced family members with addiction in my life also. And I know it's almost impossible to live with an addicted person, that there is very little you can do for a person who is addicted to drugs or alcohol. They have to want to tackle that issue themselves.
This is a harsh one, but people who are addicted end up on the streets because they can't conform to living a regular life either with a family member or especially on their own. They may have a better chance of not being homeless if a family member can tolerate everything that comes with addition. They can't perform as a responsible person in the home, going to bed at a normal time, they have no interest in their appearance, they don't contribute to the household, they don't clean their surroundings. And often with addiction comes a soiling problem. Despite love, it would take a very strong person to be able to cope with an addicted person.
An addicted person cannot live in a home by themselves for all of the very same reasons and unfortunately their main goal is to feed their addiction, leaving no money to pay bills or feed their children. They end up homeless. Even the homeless centre's have restrictions. They won't provide a bed for a person who is intoxicated or drugged. They also have to be in by 9pm which doesn't go well with the addicted person's lifestyle choice. At this point in the addicted person's life, they unfortunately are the only one's who can change their dilemma.
The other percentage of young people homeless are those who have been abused by addiction in their family home and they are forced to live on the streets. I can imagine it is a huge struggle for them to stay sober in the harshness of an indignant life on the streets.
This is where the government is to blame. In my book, I go into great detail proving that children who's emotional and educational needs are not met in their early years leads them to depression or/and addiction. When these children are going to school and it is soon apparent that they have learning difficulties, the resource should immediately be available to these children and instead it's not. The government do not provide enough resource's fro the teachers in the schools to help these children. The children often suffer with low self esteem as young as five years of age and then the problem grows as they get older and they have to struggle through the educational system. The government is failing our children in our schools. And they know this. They've known it for a long time, even as far back as when I was a child, (I'm 48). There were kids in our classes that were left down the back and got no help. Our government has always been educated to know this, us ordinary people are only catching on.
It is only parents with money who can afford the high prices of private assessments and tutoring who meet the needs of their child with learning difficulties.
Can you blame the other parents for being resentful? They love their child just as much but are not equipped to help them.
The other reason people may end up homeless is the huge cost of mortgages and rent. We all know during the crash many people had to leave their dream home because they couldn't meet their payments. Did the government give them a hand? No. Maybe they could have given them their 60,000 euros stamp duty they had paid on buying their expensive property. No, the government didn't do that either. They put these Father's and Mother's and their four children out of their home and onto the street. Into hotels that the government paid their rents for. Really? Come on Government! Didn't you think? Would you leave your beautiful homes? Oh no, you don't have to, because your humongous salary met your needs, your children's needs and indeed all your mortgage repayments.
You can't help people being resentful and angry. Of course we appreciate the construction of modernization for our city and the tourists that come. But can't you see you're doing just what Maria Antoinette did in the French Revolution all those years ago?
"If they have no bread, well let them eat cake!"
Jean xx
You know, in this woman's uneducated life full of poverty and addiction, she still tried to provide for her children in the only way she knew. And what happened to her children while she went to prison? Obviously they ended up in care. Who paid for all this prison and children's care at a very high cost? The government.
So where are the government going wrong? And why is the Homeless situation so bad that women have to live on the street with their children?
Deeply effected by the conditions that the homeless people live in, I wrote a poem about it and it's in my book 'My Beautiful Flower' called Under the Great Gates of The Bank of Ireland.
Unfortunately, most of the people I see homeless are effected with addition problems. I deeply sympathize with people with addictions as I have experienced family members with addiction in my life also. And I know it's almost impossible to live with an addicted person, that there is very little you can do for a person who is addicted to drugs or alcohol. They have to want to tackle that issue themselves.
This is a harsh one, but people who are addicted end up on the streets because they can't conform to living a regular life either with a family member or especially on their own. They may have a better chance of not being homeless if a family member can tolerate everything that comes with addition. They can't perform as a responsible person in the home, going to bed at a normal time, they have no interest in their appearance, they don't contribute to the household, they don't clean their surroundings. And often with addiction comes a soiling problem. Despite love, it would take a very strong person to be able to cope with an addicted person.
An addicted person cannot live in a home by themselves for all of the very same reasons and unfortunately their main goal is to feed their addiction, leaving no money to pay bills or feed their children. They end up homeless. Even the homeless centre's have restrictions. They won't provide a bed for a person who is intoxicated or drugged. They also have to be in by 9pm which doesn't go well with the addicted person's lifestyle choice. At this point in the addicted person's life, they unfortunately are the only one's who can change their dilemma.
The other percentage of young people homeless are those who have been abused by addiction in their family home and they are forced to live on the streets. I can imagine it is a huge struggle for them to stay sober in the harshness of an indignant life on the streets.
This is where the government is to blame. In my book, I go into great detail proving that children who's emotional and educational needs are not met in their early years leads them to depression or/and addiction. When these children are going to school and it is soon apparent that they have learning difficulties, the resource should immediately be available to these children and instead it's not. The government do not provide enough resource's fro the teachers in the schools to help these children. The children often suffer with low self esteem as young as five years of age and then the problem grows as they get older and they have to struggle through the educational system. The government is failing our children in our schools. And they know this. They've known it for a long time, even as far back as when I was a child, (I'm 48). There were kids in our classes that were left down the back and got no help. Our government has always been educated to know this, us ordinary people are only catching on.
It is only parents with money who can afford the high prices of private assessments and tutoring who meet the needs of their child with learning difficulties.
Can you blame the other parents for being resentful? They love their child just as much but are not equipped to help them.
The other reason people may end up homeless is the huge cost of mortgages and rent. We all know during the crash many people had to leave their dream home because they couldn't meet their payments. Did the government give them a hand? No. Maybe they could have given them their 60,000 euros stamp duty they had paid on buying their expensive property. No, the government didn't do that either. They put these Father's and Mother's and their four children out of their home and onto the street. Into hotels that the government paid their rents for. Really? Come on Government! Didn't you think? Would you leave your beautiful homes? Oh no, you don't have to, because your humongous salary met your needs, your children's needs and indeed all your mortgage repayments.
You can't help people being resentful and angry. Of course we appreciate the construction of modernization for our city and the tourists that come. But can't you see you're doing just what Maria Antoinette did in the French Revolution all those years ago?
"If they have no bread, well let them eat cake!"
Jean xx
Wednesday 16 September 2015
Being a rule breaker myself.....
I got a great giggle from my daughter Sarah and my nephew Ryan who shared their tales of their job as ride attendants this Summer in Roller- Coaster parks. These poor unfortunate 20 year olds had to do special training against the most unwelcome visitor of the parks, 'The Mother'. Yes, 'The Mother' is the most dreaded customer of a Rollar-Coaster Park. The young employees were warned,"Do not back down, nor give in to 'The Mother' at any time! If you need back-up, call security!
Do not underestimate 'The Mother'. Because 'The Mother' will do anything to skip the queue!
She can also harvest the seven most deadly emotions at any one time: Agitation, Impatience, Sensitivity, Stress, Anger, Aggression and Tears and fire them at you like missiles, one after the other. She won't stop until she has, A. accomplished her mission to skip the queue and B. get future free admission to The Roller-Coaster Park.
Now we can all get a little bit frustrated with these gorgeous young ride attendants. They could probably go a little bit faster themselves to help things move on a bit quicker, oh yeah, but then we'd have to wake them up! Or we might have to interrupt their flirting with Josephine or Mary across the next line.
The Mother in the mean time has already broken her first rule of The Roller-Coaster Park as she doesn't like to pay the full cost of entry for her ten year old twins. They will be shoved into a buggy with soothers in their mouths and told to say they're nearly three, they're tall for their age! When they get to their ride of choice, she will lift them up to reach the required height, saying, 'They are twelve!'
She will sneak pets in, not wanting to leave her little doggy home alone. She'll hide him under the jacket of little Susan just to give him the life threatening experience of his first Roller Coaster. If the ride attendant is awake and comes over to investigate, The Mother will roar, 'Get your hands off my child!'
She will sneak food into the Park saying if caught, 'My children have lots of allergies and can't eat that Park food crap!'
If the ride attendant is not chatting with 'The Mother' and her little angels while she's at the top of the queue, because the attendant is too busy doing selfies and checking her pose in her IPhone 6, She will immediately call the manager and complain about the whole day! The price! The service! The ride attendants attitude! The queues! The heat! The rain! The people! The seats, not enough of them or too many that she's banging into them! The kids! And don't forget the lockers! The Mother hates to put her bags into lockers, she insists on bringing them on the Roller-Coaster!
And God help you if you're the attendant who has to weigh her family for the latest four seated rubber tire that can do double flips and dives for the modest family combined weight of 700 pounds. If they weigh over the 700 pounds, they'll have to go in twos. "What do you mean we weigh over 700 pounds? Are you saying we're fat? That scales is wrong! We are not over weight! Bring me another scales! Get me the manager!'
And if you are neck and neck in line with 'The Mother' don't even think about skipping her because she will come up to your face and threaten to kill you, kill your mother and kill all of your family! And she is not joking!
When the ride attendant's shift changes three times and 'The Mother' is still in the queue and the tired and over worked attendant lets the next person in before her by accident.....
He may just run for his life!
'No Shauna! The Mother is not me!'
Jean xxx
Do not underestimate 'The Mother'. Because 'The Mother' will do anything to skip the queue!
She can also harvest the seven most deadly emotions at any one time: Agitation, Impatience, Sensitivity, Stress, Anger, Aggression and Tears and fire them at you like missiles, one after the other. She won't stop until she has, A. accomplished her mission to skip the queue and B. get future free admission to The Roller-Coaster Park.
Now we can all get a little bit frustrated with these gorgeous young ride attendants. They could probably go a little bit faster themselves to help things move on a bit quicker, oh yeah, but then we'd have to wake them up! Or we might have to interrupt their flirting with Josephine or Mary across the next line.
The Mother in the mean time has already broken her first rule of The Roller-Coaster Park as she doesn't like to pay the full cost of entry for her ten year old twins. They will be shoved into a buggy with soothers in their mouths and told to say they're nearly three, they're tall for their age! When they get to their ride of choice, she will lift them up to reach the required height, saying, 'They are twelve!'
She will sneak pets in, not wanting to leave her little doggy home alone. She'll hide him under the jacket of little Susan just to give him the life threatening experience of his first Roller Coaster. If the ride attendant is awake and comes over to investigate, The Mother will roar, 'Get your hands off my child!'
She will sneak food into the Park saying if caught, 'My children have lots of allergies and can't eat that Park food crap!'
If the ride attendant is not chatting with 'The Mother' and her little angels while she's at the top of the queue, because the attendant is too busy doing selfies and checking her pose in her IPhone 6, She will immediately call the manager and complain about the whole day! The price! The service! The ride attendants attitude! The queues! The heat! The rain! The people! The seats, not enough of them or too many that she's banging into them! The kids! And don't forget the lockers! The Mother hates to put her bags into lockers, she insists on bringing them on the Roller-Coaster!
And God help you if you're the attendant who has to weigh her family for the latest four seated rubber tire that can do double flips and dives for the modest family combined weight of 700 pounds. If they weigh over the 700 pounds, they'll have to go in twos. "What do you mean we weigh over 700 pounds? Are you saying we're fat? That scales is wrong! We are not over weight! Bring me another scales! Get me the manager!'
And if you are neck and neck in line with 'The Mother' don't even think about skipping her because she will come up to your face and threaten to kill you, kill your mother and kill all of your family! And she is not joking!
When the ride attendant's shift changes three times and 'The Mother' is still in the queue and the tired and over worked attendant lets the next person in before her by accident.....
He may just run for his life!
'No Shauna! The Mother is not me!'
Jean xxx
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