Tribute

Part of me wants to make tribute to my family for providing such a strong foundation that allowed me to survive the hardships to come as soon as I reached adulthood. First and foremost my father who, despite being diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic before I was even born, managed to raise and care for me, my brothers, my mom, and even my grandmother  (his mother in law) with Alzheimer’s Disease for so many years. A “sane” man may not have been able to handle the responsibilities as well as my dad did, and for so long.  But unfortunately he eventually broke, which also plays a huge role in my desire or more accurately, need, to tell his story along with how it affected my family and me. When people see the homeless roaming the streets or panhandling, many assume that they are just lazy drug addicts, which is not usually the case. So many are, in fact, severely mentally ill. I do not know what I would have done or who I would be without my dad’s love and support throughout my life growing up. 

I also feel compelled to acknowledge my mom, who I considered to be "the unstable one" growing up because she was in and out of short term psychiatric hospitals over the years. Her concern for my success is an important dimension of the strength I have called upon to get through difficult life circumstances. From a very young age, my mom instilled a strong sense of self confidence in my intellectual abilities and did everything she could to allow them to flourish: reading with me, providing me with educational tools, sending me to enrichment programs and private school with the best possible education. She facilitated my passion for reading and learning in general which had a huge impact on my early life, academic success as a child, teenager, and adult, and ultimately the person that I am today. 

And finally, my beloved grandmother, who sheltered me from what could have otherwise been a very different life had I been around my parents enough to realize that they had severe psychiatric issues from an early age. Growing up I spent as much, if not more, time with Grandma than it home; she mentored me and taught me things that remain with me to this day. She also provided the financial resources that facilitated my education and ability to fit in with my private school peers despite mom’s modest income as a social worker and dad’s role as Mr. Mom. Despite the underlying family circumstances which could have detrimentally affected my psychological well being, the first twelve years of my life were relatively functional; arguably more so than some families with fewer dysfunctional attributes. Empirical evidence from the childhood psychology literature suggests that the first decade of an individual’s life has the largest effect on personality development and in my mind, this was undoubtedly accurate, at least for me.