OWLPATROL

Bipolar Disorder is a mental illness in which a persons perception of the world is much different then ours. Many times they do not understand the simple emotions that they may feel. These are a few of the symptoms of Bipolar Disorder: Extreme mood swings, when they are happy they are 10x happier than we will ever be, when they are sad they are 10x more sad than we would be. Sometimes they hear voices or experience hallucinations, have suicidal tendencies (children as young as four have acted on them.) Also you may see hypermania, hyperactivity, obsessive tendancies or deep depression.

This story is about my son Alex who has Bipolar Disorder and his journey with the scouts, but it could be about any other scout with a mental disability.

Mental Illness can be deceiving. He looks like a normal child using his imagination. Yet in reality his perception is that he is the center of the universe, there is nothing else.

He is inward in his own mental bubble. But even so, Like he is trying to balance this stick he is trying to find his own inner balance.

There is lonliness and frustration-Anger that is overwhelming. When this Meltdown occurs, alienation from others is often the result.

His mother realized that she could not do it on her own, she needed help in teaching him moral values, character, and how to fit into the world around him.

This picture was taken during a time of happiness and elation, but there were still inner demons present - because at this same time his illness had reached a high peak when hallucinations and suicidal tendencies resulted in his commitment to a mental institution.

Scouting was a definitive tool in his life at this time in helping him to transition back to the outside world. Moments after this picture was taken an adult leader noticed he was upset, and was able to encourage him to participate with the group.

It wasn't an easy road. There were setbacks and times of discouragement. But slowly progress was made. In this picture you can see his anger and frustration as he sits quietly in a chair. He is actually taking a self time-out, a moment to gather himself before rejoining the group. Before, his reaction would have been to run away, throw chairs, cuss or be disruptive in some manner.

He went from alienating himself from the group to being able to participate but even so he still kept himself seperate.

His life thus far has been a life of transition: from his inward view of the world outside of him; Through the time of inner searching about himself, the people around him, and life itself; to the realization that things can be okay, with the support of those that love him and care for him. his family, his friends, his Scouting Community!

He has gone through different psychiatrists, therapists, teachers, schools, friends, and medications. During his journey so far the only thing that has stayed the same has been scouting. What a miracle to see him on a team, working with others and being able to lose with a smile on his face.

What he holds in his hands are tiny footsteps that have gotten him to a larger goal. Challenges produced anxiety, but through scouting he learned to accomplish one goal at a time. For each step in his advancement he learned about citizenship, character development, and mental and physical fitness.

Now he is in the Boy Scouts where he has something in common with all the boys,a the love of the outdoors. They have known him since he was a cub and help him to set positive goals, breaking down the steps into pieces he can manage until he reaches his goal. Right now he is enjoying the comraderie not realizing that he is internalizing the Scout way of life.

Overcoming Adversity

Poem by Bill Wrigley

Puddles of Tears



			I went to the archery range to shoot, but came away with so much more. I had stood behind a brave young boy shooting arrows to the fore. Sitting in his wheel chair, the red paint peeling off, as impatient boys behind me began to jeer, and scoff. Too weak to reach the target, and tears welled up in his eyes, as the heathens made sport of his frail arms, legs twisted like curly fries. "QUIET!" I yelled, and silence fell. My next words they were sure to spurn I said to the little boy in the chair, "won't you please take my turn?". I took a knee beside the chair, His face was pale, and stark. All of his arrows shot that day had failed to find their mark. I placed an arrow in his bow, and encouraged him to try. Too weak to raise the bow to aim, he let the arrow fly. Lobbing softly through the sky the little arrow slipped. Arching gently, and barely sticking in the bulls-eye by its tip. The sulking little heathens, who had jeered the little boy, suddenly erupted, and cheered him on with joy! I knocked another arrow, as I called him "my little ace", and every bolt that he let fly found the same sweet place. A crowd had gathered all around. His nerves began to shake. He knew he had to qualify, his very pride at stake. The last little shaft I placed for him, as he drew back on the bow. What little strength was leaving him, oh, where would that arrow go? The little boy's aim was slightly off, and fading wide his shot, when suddenly the wind blew by, and the arrow found it's spot. They picked him up, and carried him, because he couldn't stand. I saw the thumbs-up thank you issued from his spindly hand. I went to the archery range to shoot, but came home with so much more. For the little boy in the wheel chair had shot a perfect score!
	Mommy do you cry when you leave me? Tears where tracing down your face When you asked me this Silently begging me not to leave you there With strangers and sounds that you didn�t know. I had no choice but to let go Turn and walk away Yes I cried when I left you. Every footstep holds a tear for you. Watching you as the pain and rage takes over Sadness and frustration your only friends Birthday parties with no guests. You were fighting the demons inside To calm you, stories about wild quests Hours of holding you when you weren�t there Crowds would freak you out Making you scream and run By seven and eight you were on So many drugs to help you be you That you became lost At five you tried to go to heaven At seven you were locked away from me When you were eight, at school You would sit under the table and cry Stabbing your self with pencils The voices came when you were nine The visions were so real The police were called You were a 5150, no longer a boy The day after Christmas I had to give you away Everyone said it was the thing to do 24 hours of trained professionals to watch but did they care for you? Phone calls home begging and pleading You promised you would never be bad again As a mother I finally broke Realizing that I could no longer hold you And help you find peace. That you were not mine to keep I couldn�t take away the pain that you Were born with. I couldn�t heal you with love. I could only stand beside you and try to guide. I pray everyday that you won�t die, Knowing the statistics for suicide are very high. Drug and alcohol abuse an escape from a Reality that you can never understand. You will always look through a clouded mirror When its dark, I hope you see me there. . I cried when I left you there. For every spark of hope you gave me, I tried to light a fire, instead I kept getting burned Yes I cried when I left you. Every footstep holds a tear for you. Every breathe a prayer.