It Took Alaska…

I don’t regret going to Alaska.  It taught me so much about my intuition and those that suffer from mental illness. I feel this journey only made me a better writer exploring the human experience.

Signs Like a Totem Pole

The plane landed in Anchorage without delay.  I wasn’t sure what to expect from my first views of Alaska after researching it for the past five months.  Green, lush pine groves, tall snow laden mountains and large blue skies would be the backdrop to my first feature film.

Krystal had already grabbed her backpack and was bubbling over with anticipation and a little apprehension.  Would this be the same Alaska she knew 25 years ago?  I was to write her life story, a feature film about the events that led her back to the man who broke her heart so many years ago and the woman she had now become.

It was a story of survival and redemption.  I was excited that this movie could launch her career as a Life Coach.  Little did I know that this trip would be a shocking discovery of broken dreams, harsh realities and a tattered soul.

The First Sign

We pulled out of the rental car parking lot with our list of supplies we needed, since we would be camping in extremely remote areas. We would be traveling over 2,000 miles from Anchorage to Homer, then on to Fairbanks and Chicken, Alaska in 21 days.  We would be camping most of the way, so our transportation would become more than a convenience, but an essential part to our comfort and safety.

We went to several homes of people following Cool Beans Films on Facebook to pick up supplies they so generously donated for our trip.  We had over ten thousand followers watching our journey unfold, and their support was tremendous.

My first order of business was to stop by the Alaska Film  Commission to pick up pertinent information I would present to interested studios. No one answered the phone, so I checked the website. I was in utter disbelief when I saw the words, “Governor Signs Bill to End Film Tax Credit.”

My stomach dropped. At that moment I knew I should have halted the project, since creating a movie in a state that doesn’t support film incentives was impractical.  However, when I told Krystal that this journey should be cut short, the look of desperation on her face made me continue out of friendship.  If anything, she could put her ghosts behind her, and I could acquire location shots.  I also had a grant to fall on for a little financial support.

A place doesn't identify us. We identify with the memories and the emotions of a place.

A place doesn’t identify us. We identify with the memories and the emotions of a place.

The trip from Anchorage to Homer was uneventful.  The scenery was breathtaking as Alaskan fjords rival any in the world.

I had Krystal tell her story in a linear fashion from her meeting Dan to her arrival in Alaska when she had made plans to move there for him.  She was 22 and crazy in love with Dan, a captain of a small fishing fleet.  Dan had flown down from Alaska to attend his sister’s wedding in California where Krystal was a bride’s maid.  Dan and Krystal hit it off, and a summer romance unfolded.  She spent that summer in Alaska, and then went up during her winter break that December.  It was then Krystal knew she had found the place she wanted to call home, and the man she wanted to be with.  However, it wouldn’t turn out to be the fairy tale she had hoped.

Krystal arrived young and in love to a man who had other plans. She told me how she wanted to die when she found out he was moving in with another woman and planned to marry.  My heart felt the pain she must have gone through.  She had put everything into Dan, expecting him taking her away from a life that was full of trauma and isolation.

Overlooking Homer, Alaska.

Overlooking Homer, Alaska.

We pulled into Homer that morning, five hours after landing.  The crisp air in July was invigorating and clear.  I pulled the car over to get location shots of the Spit; a long finger of land that jutted out from the town of Homer that would be our home for the next week.

I paused, watching Krystal transform into the former 22-year-old with the giddiness and apprehension she most likely felt those years ago.  I was transfixed at seeing the physical change in her.  Her face becoming child-like, even her voice took on a higher pitch.  I was truly looking at Krystal as a she was back then.  Typically a writer has to create the character with dialogue and mannerisms.  I was lucky enough to watch it unfold in front of me.

Through my inquiries to build the story line, Krystal admitted that after Dan, no other relationship ever compared.  This surprised me, since it was 25 years ago, and he had left her for another.  She had created a larger than life belief about Dan that made it impossible for any other man to overcome.

We drove down to the campsite and unloaded the car.  We began making plans for what needed to be done that week.  I needed more location shots and to look up local businesses, if the film were miraculously shot on location.

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The Spit in Homer, Alaska.

We walked around the docks where Dan had several boats.  She spoke of the time he took her out Halibut fishing and met his crew.  She shared their adventures and how in love they seemed to be. It was the first time in her life she felt she was finally going somewhere.  She also spoke about her mother and how that relationship shaped Krystal’s path.

A Mental Legacy Unfolds

Her mother, Esther, was a German survivor of the Red Army invasion. She had fled an aristocratic life only to witness her aunt being raped and uncle killed by the Soviets.  Watching loved ones brutally murdered deeply changed Esther in a way she would only realize in her later years.  She created a life based on false perceptions that would eventually get her to the United States, a country she felt would bring her relief, but one she would come to loathe.

Krystal’s mother’s story was a movie in itself.  Esther did everything in her power to manipulate people to get the solace she so desperately sought.  From befriending an American GI, eventually getting married, to leaving her infant son behind with relatives to find a better life.  That in itself could explain her drive to get out of a war-torn country, but it was her disconnect with reality that played a crucial role in Krystal’s life and choices.

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Watching loved ones brutally murdered can change a person, disconnecting from the person they once were. (Historical photo of evacuation of East Prussia.)

Before we left for Alaska, I had Krystal show me the home where she grew up.  It was small with a fenced in yard surrounded by pastureland on the outskirts of a little town in California.  Her mother had passed just months earlier, and it was Krystal’s first time being allowed in her home in over 10 years.  The last time she had contact with her mother was when the local police had warned Krystal that her mother wanted to kill her.  This was the deepest moment in Esther’s schizophrenic abyss.

The cigarette smoke-stained walls were stacked with books that told of her mother’s obsession with the travesties of war and the plight against humanity.  Books about murder, Hitler, Stalin and torture lined the shelves.  However, it was the most recent bookshelf, with new crisp covers next to her mother’s chair, that told another story of Esther’s mindset.

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However, there was a bookshelf that told a deeper story where her mother spent her last days reading.

There were books about Schizophrenia, brain disorders and emotional dysfunction. Post-it notes flurried the top of the books in a rainbow of color.  I looked at Krystal, “I think your mother was trying to figure out her sickness,”  I paused.  “I think she was Schizophrenic.”

Krystal searched the covers.  “Fractured Minds,” “Surviving Schizophrenia,” “Preventing Alzheimer’s.”

Krystal talked of her mothers verbal and emotional abuse, and how she lived in a home without heat, due to her mother’s paranoia of it burning down.  She shared the time her mother wanted Krystal dead by almost drowning her in a tub of water.  A mother, broken in her inability to show love for fear of feeling the intense pain of losing those she loved altogether.

So, when a spirited 7-year-old Krystal threatened that she was going to lock herself in the bathroom and kill herself, Esther sadly broke.  Krystal reassured me she wasn’t going to actually do it.  She just wanted to get back at her mother for wishing Krystal dead so many times.  What kind of damage do those types of threats leave on a young child, I wondered.

At first the young mother yelled and pounded on the door.  Krystal opened it to Esther’s rage.  Krystal couldn’t fight the woman’s verbal onslaught.  Esther screeched that she would help Krystal do it, to drown her own daughter.

schizophreniaAs Krystal relived that day, I thought of Esther’s motivation.  Why would a mother wish her own children dead?  Esther couldn’t stand loosing those that she loved, as she had so many years ago, so she threatened her daughter’s death to control the pain.  Wishing Krystal dead would create the reality she most greatly feared.  Emotional detachment was the only way she could survive in a world as a mother.

 

Two Sides Speak Volumes

I passed out business cards to the shops around Homer hoping to find someone who knew Dan.  Krystal was bent on finding out about the life he had made for himself with the woman he chose over 25 years ago.  I told Krystal that I would need to call him for an interview, yet at first she was reluctant for me to contact him.  I told her that he had a perspective to share, as well, and it would add more depth to the story.  I also became concerned when Krystal wanted to locate his house.  I would rather let him know that we were there and why, than have him learn about it through the concern of neighbors or friends.

We found his home up on a hill overlooking the Spit.  We sat there quietly when I asked her how it made her feel seeing his home.  “That could have been my home,” she whispered.  I watched her scan every inch of it, and suddenly I felt uneasy.

“I deserved that house.  Not her,” she said.  This didn’t sound like a woman who was aware of life lessons and soul’s journeys.  Instead she reminded me of a scorned teen.  It was then I realized she was blaming Dan’s wife, instead of Dan’s choices.  I brought this to her attention.  So often women blame the other woman, when it is the man that makes the final choice to leave.

clarityKrystal sat quietly.  I could see her mind chewing on it. “Maybe I was the other woman, and he wanted her all along.”

I spoke with her about the possibilities that maybe Dan was wanting the other relationship all along, but his fiancée wasn’t ready.  I could see Krystal’s pain.  She got quiet and nodded her head.

From the very first time I listened to Krystal’s story, I had made Dan out to be a player.  Suddenly, he no longer seemed like a player, but a man who didn’t have the courage to tell a woman that he didn’t see the relationship going anywhere.  So, when she showed up in Alaska, he finally had to break it to her.

I could also see Krystal’s embarrassment and shame in realizing that she refused to see the signs so long ago.  She began to talk about the days leading up to seeing Dan.  She told me he hadn’t been calling her as much and seemed distant, although, he was relocating for a job.  She was slowly piecing it together that she may have been just a fling.  It wasn’t until that moment, that Krystal allowed herself to think with a different perspective.  I saw her change.  A look of vulnerability came over her, and the reality hit that for 25 years she was holding on to something that wasn’t real.

At this point, I truly felt Krystal could begin healing with this new perspective.  However, she wanted to hang out in some of the local bars to see if we could find someone who knew Dan.  This was when I realized she had an unhealthy attachment that was preventing her from seeing the bigger picture.  I received a call from Dan later that day that solidified my thoughts.

Krystal and I just sat down to dinner in a local restaurant when I got the call.  His voice was calm and curious. “Debbie, this is Dan. I heard you were writing a movie about me?”  I spoke briefly about the movie, careful not to mention Krystal.

“Do you know of anyone that you may have affected about 25 years ago?”  Dan mentioned a deck hand or two, but didn’t speak of Krystal.  I finally told him I was writing Krystal’s story about her time in Alaska.  There was a long pregnant pause.

“The past is my past,” he spoke slowly. “I have made a great life for myself here, and my family and my girls are my life.”  I reassured him that I was a creative enough writer to paint a general picture, and I would keep his life discreet.   We spoke a few minutes more.  He never inquired about Krystal, nor spoke about their time together years ago.  In fact, he avoided talk of her altogether.  He told me he would think about it and get back with me.

Dan did call me back.  Krystal quietly listened through the phone’s speaker, recording the conversation on her own phone, while he told me he had no interest in the film whatsoever.  He was adamant that he didn’t want to be a part of the project.  Krystal looked out the window in contemplation.  She finally had to admit to herself that she had to put this relationship in the past and find closure.  It was a hard pill to swallow to hear Dan never ask about her, or how she was doing.

If there was an ounce of nostalgia or sweet memories, he would have wanted to visit with her, as adults do when reconnecting with an old flame.  I realized then that there were truly two perspectives to this story, and she needed to see his side now.

I felt Krystal was a survivor.  She was able to create a life for herself and work on her inner self by following Dr. Wayne Dyer, Eckhart Tolle, and other new awareness gurus.  She could preach their philosophies, even building her own program for positive personal growth.  She was outgoing and friendly to all she met.  I truly felt she would have such a great ending to her story.  That would not be the case, however.

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The Mirror to Her Inner Child

Four days into our trip, I called my daughter Paige and asked her to photocopy some photos of Krystal when she was in Alaska as a young woman.  Hours later I would receive a phone call that would change the entire trip and the film itself.

“Mom,” my daughter audibly shaken, took a deep breath.  “Rich and I went to Krystal’s condo and found her dad on the floor.  He was half-naked and almost bleeding to death.  Rich doesn’t think he’s going to make it.”

I sat down hard on a bench just outside the café where we were taking a break.  Krystal was in the coffee shop, as I talked with my daughter.

“Honey, are you okay?”  She sniffed and reassured me that she was.  Rich told her to step outside and wait for the medics.  I was so grateful that my boyfriend was with her, and she didn’t make this discovery alone.  I felt horrible that I couldn’t be there for her.

My mind raced as to what could have happened in the last four days after meeting Krystal’s father, Jack.  He was passing through to visit Krystal before she left for Alaska, and was supposed to go on to see family.  Rich and I had Krystal and Jack over for dinner to get some insight about Krystal and her mother.  Later that evening, when drinking cocktails by the fire, Krystal quietly informed me that her dad was an alcoholic and probably shouldn’t have anymore to drink.

“Mom, there’s blood everywhere.  He must have fallen and hit his head, and was unable to get up.  We saw two empty alcohol bottles on the floor by the couch, too.  We think he’s been there for more than 24 hours.  Rich said he looked really dehydrated.”  My heart was breaking for him knowing how he must have suffered; emotionally and physically.

Krystal came outside of the café to see me in tears.  She sat down, as I started to cry.  “Krystal, Paige just called to tell me your dad is with paramedics now in your condo.”  I had Rich call her back, so I could start making preparations for us to leave.

“No!” tears wielded up in her eyes, as Rich told her of their discovery.  She sat there in shock, as he told her the gravity of the situation.

I grabbed my phone and walked toward the car.  I felt I needed to find out how I could get her home as soon as possible.  I spent several minutes getting information from the airlines.  I also put out an all-call to our many followers on Facebook to see if anyone had a companion pass I could purchase to get her home.  The next flight out was in the morning.

How to Heal Your Child Within“He can’t do this to me!” she yelled, as I sat down next to her.  “This is just one of his benders.  He’ll be fine!  He does this all the time, and I’m not dealing with it!”

I didn’t know what to say.  I took a deep breath and realized this would take some time for her to recognize her situation.  There was no way I wanted her to be in a remote place, thousands of miles away, should this go terribly wrong.

“Krystal, he’s not doing well.”  I wasn’t ready to tell her he had been intubated, which probably meant that his body was shutting down.  Rich told me Jack coded several times and that in his experience as a detective, this was never a good sign.

Krystal stood up crying.  “He can’t do this to me.  This is my trip, and he can’t take this away from me.”

I was shocked. “But Krystal, he’s going to the hospital.  We should at least get ourselves to Anchorage just in case we need to get you home.”  She sat there angry and in shock.

“Krystal,” I tried to soothe, “he’s not doing this to you.  He’s an alcoholic, this is his story, not yours.”  For some reason I thought I could connect with the rational Krystal I had gotten to know in the months earlier, but the shock of her father’s situation overwhelmed her.  It never occurred to me to that she would want to stay.  Unbeknownst to me, this was the beginning of her disconnect.

“This is what he does!  He has a bender and makes a mess.  I can’t tell you how many of these I’ve had to clean up!” She stomped away toward the car.

I drove us back to the campsite, as she contacted her step-brothers.  At this point Jack was in transit to the hospital, and Krystal was hoping one of her brother’s could go to him.  I quietly packed up our site and packed the car.  Krystal was shooting me looks of annoyance.

I stepped away to call Rich and speak with my daughter.  I told them that Krystal seemed resistant to leave Homer, and it would take at least 5 hours to get to Anchorage.  I was hoping to fly her home on stand-by, or try to find a companion fare through our Facebook page.

As we drove out of Homer, Krystal turned to me and said, “Well, I left Homer, Alaska 25 years ago, because a man broke my heart.  Now I leave it again, because another man is breaking my heart.

***

The Past On “Repeat”

repeating-the-pastThe drive seemed in slow motion.  When we could get cell service, Krystal would call the hospital or her step brother’s.  To my surprise they also seemed reluctant to make the drive or flight to see him.  There was no word yet on Jack’s condition, and the hospital staff was having a hard time providing any current information.  We didn’t know at this point if he was even conscious.  I thought it best to keep her talking,  to keep her mind off things.  I asked her to talk about her last time in Homer.

Krystal spoke of when she left Homer heartbroken and how she called her friend Barbara for support.  Barbara taught Psychology at a local college that Krystal attended, and they had become fast friends.  She was someone Krystal could confide in about her past and her mother.  Barbara was also a well-known psychic.

I asked Krystal to tell me about what Barbara said that day when Dan broke her heart.

Krystal paused.  “Barbara told me that I needed to come home and be with family and friends, and that I needed to heal at home.”  Krystal hung up on Barbara in despair, and took off for Chicken, Alaska, instead.

I asked Krystal why she didn’t go home.  She became agitated, and said, “I was either going to die, or face my fear of being alone!”

Krystal was presented with the same story again, and she was choosing to take the same path as she had done before.  Either go home and start the healing process, or stay and run from the very thing she needed to heal from.  I wondered out loud what would have happened 25 years ago if she had chosen to go home.

When I shared my thoughts with Krystal, she blew up at me.  “This is my journey, and you can’t take this away from me!”

It seemed clear to me that these were two very different situations.  Running away from a heartbreak was much different from running away from a dying father.  Unfortunately, Krystal was unable to recognize it.

“But what if,” I calmly asked, “What if 25 years ago Barbara was right?  What if you had gone home and put the past behind you and healed from Dan, and maybe even connected with your family better?”

Suddenly I was not with a sensible woman, but a broken child.  She screamed again.  “Just drop me off in Anchorage, and I’ll continue this trip without you!”

Either [she needed to] go home and start the healing process, or stay and run from the very thing she needed to heal from.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.  I kept driving, hoping to rationalize with her when we got closer to the airport.  I knew leaving Krystal in Alaska was not the answer.  It would be a financial hardship for her.  I had purchased the flights and lodging, as well as the car.  She would basically be stranded.

We pulled up into a small town to take a break and get something to eat.  We still had about three hours to go.  We sat in the back of a pizza shop and quickly got on our phones.  I called Rich, as she called the hospital to get more information and again to attempt to convince her brothers to get to the hospital.

Rich answered, “Hey, babe.  I’m so sorry you two are going through this.  Where are you now?”

I moved outside to talk to him.  “Rich, she doesn’t want to come home.  She said her friends will go to the hospital and sit with him.  I don’t want to be the bad guy here, but she just needs to get home.   I think she’s having a complete breakdown.  I can’t rationalize with her.”

“Honey, I don’t think this is a situation that Jack is going to come out of.”  He paused, “I really think this might be it for him.”  Rich told me again the condition of the condo and how my daughter found Jack writhing in pain.

Rich continued, “I think you and Krystal need to come home and be with your families.” He didn’t believe she understood the severity of the situation.

“Babe, the most important thing now is to get her home no matter what.  Friends shouldn’t be responsible for what is going on here.”  I slowly walked back to the table to speak to Krystal.

“Krystal, after talking to Paige and Rich, I have to call this project.  I can’t continue knowing your father may not make it.  I can still write the movie, but for now you need to go home.”

She exploded.  “Why don’t you consider me for once and what I need?” she screamed at me.  “This is my journey,” she waved her hands at me.

In my frustration, I exclaimed, “Yes, Krystal, this is all about you, but I am financing this venture, and no studio in their right mind would keep you here knowing your father was in the hospital.  It’s a liability.”

She screamed back, “So you want me to feel guilty now, do you, since it’s your money?  Now you know what my life is like, and what I had to deal with.  Welcome to my world!”

She completely broke, screaming, “I will never talk to you again, you will never be my friend if you take me home from my journey,” she kept repeating.  “In fact, if you take me home, you will be responsible for my father’s death!”

I saw the owner of the pizza place motion to me if I needed help.  I shook my head.  He remained by the end of the counter watching.  Listening to her accusation made me realize she was dealing with inner demons.  I was just the trigger to her onslaught.

“My father will commit suicide, if he finds out you made me come home because of this!” she tried to reason.

Rich suggested I attempt to negotiate with her, proposing we stay a few days longer and then come home.  I was willing to try anything at this point, so I suggested to Krystal that we could book it up to Chicken to get location shots and get her home.   Just that prospect made me uneasy, but I was willing to do that much.

“No!  It’s all or nothing!” she screamed between tears.  She had completely lost all cognizance of her behavior.  She left the restaurant to call some friends.

gertrude hamlet mirrorAt this point I hoped that in a few days, she would realize that what I was doing was in her and her father’s best interest.  I knew the death of a parent could trigger the worst in someone, however I didn’t realize how bad.

Her seething anger told me there was no reasoning with her.  I was dealing with someone who wasn’t able to see the rational side of things.

I drove until exhausted.  Luckily, Alaskan summer nights were in perpetual twilight, so the added light helped me stay awake a while longer.  We pulled into a campground about an hour away from Anchorage.  Krystal was still pleading with her step-brothers to go see her father, so she could stay.  She wasn’t getting any help from them.  I called Rich.

“Hey, babe,” he said.  His voice was so comforting to me.  We had only been dating for four months, but he was my rock.  I filled him in with what occurred at the pizza place.

To Enable or Not To Enable

We woke up the next morning to an answer to my Facebook all-call.  Bruce Sherry, a pilot that had let us borrow equipment for our trip, flew for Alaskan Airlines.  He was able to get us two companion passes to get us home.  We needed to get to his home, so I could purchase the tickets and return some camping equipment we borrowed.  I was packing up the car, when I got a call from one of Krystal’s friend, Terri.

“Can’t you just do the rest of the trip?” she pleaded.  “Krystal didn’t get a chance to have a childhood, and this trip means so much to her.”  I couldn’t believe what Terri was asking of me.  “Or why don’t you just leave her there?”  I was surprised how Terri didn’t recognize how difficult that would be.   I don’t think she was aware that Krystal could not afford the trip, nor have any resources once I left.

 

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Leaving friends to tend to a dying father, as Krystal went romping around Alaska to re-live glory days was not being responsible.  I told Krystal that if the screenplay was optioned for film, she would get to go back to Alaska, since most studios would have her on location during principal photography.  She would get to come back.

“Terri, I realize we all want good things for Krystal, but we don’t know the outcome to Jack’s condition,” I told her.  “Either Krystal is planning physical therapy, hospice or a funeral for her father.  She’s the only one now that can take care of the legal issues with this.  “And,” I added, “she could be saying good-bye to him.  She won’t get another chance to do that.”

I could see what Krystal was doing.  She was calling out the troops to get me to change my mind.  Lisa, another friend called once we arrived in Anchorage.  Lisa had known Krystal since college, and I had met her just weeks earlier for interviews.

“Krystal will literally die if you don’t continue on this trip.  She hates her dad.  He’s an alcoholic, and she should go have some fun.”  I couldn’t believe the manipulation these women were willing to go through to get me to change my mind.

I was surprised to hear this from Lisa, because Krystal had never shared these feelings of her dad with me.  Krystal had always told me her father was a loving, kind and giving person.  Had I been aware of Krystal’s true feelings of her father, I may have felt differently for the need to get her home.

“Lisa,” I exclaimed.  “I am the one that is in this position, and the only thing that needs to happen now is to get her home.  She’s not being rational.  I know she had hoped her step brothers would take care of this, but they aren’t stepping up.  I am also concerned about my daughter, and I feel I should be there with her.”

enablingRegardless if he was an alcoholic, she needed to be there.  Were they so afraid to tell Krystal the truth?  Terri and her husband had seen the condition of the condo, when they and Rich tried to clean it up before Krystal got home.  Surely Terri would understand the enormity of Krystal’s actions.  Lisa was thousands of miles away.

I was at my wit’s end with only minutes to return equipment we had borrowed and get to the airport.  “Look Lisa, I appreciate you wanting to see Krystal stay and continue the trip, but from what Rich has told me, this may not end well.  I have to be the bad guy and make this decision alone.”

The Sherry family had graciously let me use their computer to pay for the tickets.  We rushed to the rental car company, and ran through the terminals.

 

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A Trail of Trauma

Krystal did get a chance to speak with her father at the hospital for several minutes before he slipped into a coma.  They were able to say the things one only says when facing the inevitable.  He apologized for his years of drinking, which hopefully gave her the closure she so desperately needed.  He died five days later.

A few days after we returned home, a close friend of ours told me Krystal was complaining I had flown first-class, leaving her in coach, I had upgraded hotels and spent lavishly on food.  And, of course, none of this was true.  I had photographs and documentation to show this was not the case.  All of which were submitted to the Nevada Arts Council Grant for review.  Eventually, I realized this was Krystal’s only way of rationalizing her actions in Alaska.  I believe she was in a defensive mode, lashing out in order to justify her behavior in Alaska.  It was another example of her disconnect with reality.

Later that evening I discussed with Rich what I had learned.  He said, “It’s sad honey, but I think she is psychologically and emotionally distraught.  I feel Krystal needs professional help, and she will only get it when everyone starts telling her the truth.”

Weeks later, my daughter introduced me to a gentleman that heard about the drama on our trip.  He told me he was a sponsor for Adult Children of Alcoholics and Dysfunctional Families.  He also told me Krystal was showing classic symptoms of denial and dysfunction.  We went through the symptoms adults display who come from alcoholic and dysfunctional families.  He felt she needed help.

I decided to cancel the film project altogether.  Krystal was too far into her rabbit’s hole to realize she was burning her own bridges of recovery, as well as a chance for a film about her as a Life Coach.

The Reality of Mental Illness

I have not spoken to Krystal since the trip.  I learned that no matter how much you want someone to heal, they must want it for themselves first.  We heard of more rants months after the trip.  She was falling deeper into her denial.

Several times I was asked when speaking with recovering ADA adults, why didn’t I respond back when hearing of the false accusations.

“Healthy adults can reason, even when in an emotional moment.  They can pause and connect with their higher self to realize both sides of an argument.  However, when there is a misconception or break in reality, a person lacks the ability to see the other person’s side.”

Dan demonstrated this when we spoke.  He wanted his past left in the past.  He had come to terms and was able to move on, whereas in Krystal’s case she was on perpetual repeat, and it affected her greatly.  Not just by the loss of the relationship, but what she was exposed to as a child with dysfunctional parents.  She was using a broken belief system as her compass that wasn’t serving her higher self.

Do I feel Krystal can heal and grow from her experiences? Absolutely.  But it all boils down to her support systems and her desire to do so.  Facing what isn’t working in our lives and choosing to change can be the most frightening experience we may ever face.

There is so much more we now know about Mental Illness, and the many ways people with disabling mental health issues can get help and recover.  One of the first things we need to do is to be honest with those we love that are suffering.  Enabling their behavior or misconceptions only cause more damage.  Honesty, through love, is the only way to start the conversation.

‘74% of all mental illness occurs between the ages of 11 and 24.’ (NIMH, 2005)  Krystal was a classic example of this by growing up with dysfunctional parents and no real guidance or support to overcome it.  When she reached out to Barbara, a trained psychologist, she was given the opportunity to heal and put closure to her past.  However, she chose not to.

Where can we go to help those we love, or to work on ourselves through difficult times?  One in four people in the United States will experience mental illness in their life time.  The support systems they choose will determine if they are able to overcome their experience.

Seeking counseling is of course the first prescription in getting help.  But there is also a growing field in Life Coach practitioners.  Life Coaches are helpful in one-on-one mentoring.  They are trained in guiding people to discover their inner dialogue.  They can walk you through your perceptions, and guide you toward healthier living.

However, if you or a loved one is dealing with a mental illness, like anxiety, depression, or substance abuse, there are many other options for help, such as physical exams, lab tests, and psychological evaluation.  Doctors now have mental health assessments that can guide their diagnoses leading to better treatment.

Many universities now have Mindfulness research centers implementing brain-related research into our health care systems, corporate realm, and schools.  Check your area universities for these centers.

We need to be truthful and tell those we love that they need help.  Only then will change occur.

empower

Self Help Quizzes from the University of Berkley– The Greater Good Science Center studies the psychology, sociology, and neuroscience of well-being, and teaches skills that foster a thriving, resilient, and compassionate society.

More about Adult Children of Alcoholics

The World Health Organization Mental Health Atlas 2014- find out your countries Mental Health Report Card.

Read more stories at My Bento Box Life

*Some names and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of individuals.

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