The Privilege of Being a Parent

baby tonka

As a child, I so enjoyed Christmas.  Everything about Christmas thrilled me.  I loved the snow, the merriment, my parents excitement, the love, family, absolutely everything.

As I grew older, the thrill diminished.  The bliss and innocence of childhood was gone and the responsibility of parenthood set in.  That fact was that I was in a turbulent household and it made for a stressful time.  Every Christmas meant some kind of argument with my ex-husband.  Long gone were the times of just joy and fulfillment.

I do, however, have some beautiful memories with my children during this time of year.  One year in particular  I have a wonderful memory of our flimsy yet adorable Charlie Brown Christmas tree, in which the ornaments weighed down each branch and the star on top needed to be put down the branch slightly for fear of the tree toppling.  This tree, as I recall, was the focus of this season.  Not only was the tree darling and beautiful.  My children who tried to thoughtfully care for the tree were trying to be responsible and nurturing.

I recall waking up to the children playing, as I often did.  However something was different due to the fact that I could also hear water running.  All three children decided to care for the tree and water it on this snowy winter morning.  They were taking their Tonka trucks and filling them up with water from the bath tub, then wheeling them down the hall to the living room where the tree was located.

As I walked down the hall, the water pressed up through the spaces between my toes from the carpet below.  Not only was the carpet completely soaked, there was actually water dripping into the basement.  When I asked the kids what they were doing, they explained that the tree needed to be watered.

My initial reaction was not laughter!  Yet the memory of this time brings back such joy in my heart.  The innocence of childhood is a wonderful thing, and to have a memory such as this is a privilege of being a parent.

I’m so happy that the joy has returned.  I have a husband now that is a BIG child at Christmas time, including circling all the things he wants in the ads of the flyers that come into the house.  I have two granddaughters that fill me with joy. I have wonderful grown adult children and their loved ones who are responsible, caring, and compassionate.  And the love of family and friends around me are truly my joy.

My Daily Cocktail


This picture represents my morning cocktail mixture.  So this is half of my daily medications.  My night-time mixture is about the same amount of pills.  It seems crazy to me that I have to take so many meds, but they all have their purpose.  This mixture is tweaked now and then with changes in my symptoms.  I have come to realize that this daily routine is a necessity.

It took me a long time to accept the fact that I have a mental illness that requires this amount of commitment on a daily basis to keep under control.  Some days I still have a hard time to believe this, or I get tired of it.  That is when my husband gently reminds me that he would rather have me healthy than what the alternative would be.  Thank God I have supportive people in my life.

The routine gets easier with time, and I have even started to put an alarm on my phone so I take them around the same time each day.  I try to go to bed earlier so I get a good nights rest.  I see my counselor every week or two, and life goes on.  After twenty years of monitoring my illness, it is just a part of who I am.

God made the ability to have doctors and the medications.  I have the ability to be wise and take care of my body, mind, and the soul He gave me.

Always Believe in Yourself

Believe in yourself…

This was a constant theme that my mother always wanted me to achieve – the belief that I was capable, worthy, kind, and full of love.  Her belief in me kept me filled with a desire to move forward.  She believed in me even when I had no strength to believe.  I never understood how she was able to so strongly believe in my ability to go on, and fulfill a desirable life.

My hope has disappeared many times.  The turmoil of my mind encompasses me at times, and I’m unable to see the joy around me – or anything around me, for that matter.  The trials of living with a mental illness (such as Bipolar) and the walk of a bumpy road that knocks you down quite frequently is exhausting to not only the one with the illness, but also to the loved ones.

My mother no matter where her mind was, her physical illnesses were, or how personally emotional and tired she was, she unbelievably was able to put herself aside and focus on others needs.  She was truly a woman that was filled with unselfishness, and loved with all her being.  I recall her fight with a brain hemorrhage when it was thought that she would not to be able to survive.  After a fall down the stairs, she was flown from New Hampshire to Boston Mass General Hospital.  Her struggle and fight to live was extraordinary.  She achieved the ability to once again think clearly, walk again, laugh, and be joyous – as she was always capable of doing, no matter the circumstances.  I was told she would never feed herself again.  Yet she achieved this through persistence.  I was able to follow her conversation, though I was told this was impossible.  She began to tell me how I needed to write my memoirs.  How is it that she could focus on me when her own life was in such turmoil.  She was to me beyond the epitome of grace.

She died almost one year after that fall.  It was not the hemorrhage that took her life.  It was a struggle with blood cancer that she was filled with that took over.  She was even in hospice and understood the depth of her disease, and she was continuing to Believe.  Her strength amazed me.

I recall a few days before her dying that we had a conversation.  She was more scared for me than she was for herself when she died.  She had no idea how I would make it through.  Come to find out she had made MANY people promise to take care of me.  (Doesn’t surprise me).  However to give her some peace during that time, though it was extremely hard for me to do, I told her that when she died I would be OK – though even I had trouble believing that.  She was surprised that I was saying that and said to me, “Am I that sick?”.   I explained that she had a lot going on, and she understood.  But I do know that the peace of hearing that I would be OK helped ease her soul.  She peacefully died a few days later with me and my brother at her side.

I was going through a few of her things a few days later and found among many cards that she had bought, this one that struck me as being for me.  It was not signed though it brought me strength and I felt that it was her love beside me.  I knew this with all my heart.

Believe in yourself…

…and never, ever give up.

I told her that I would be OK.  It is on my hard days that I have the strongest fight of all.

Mom, I love you with all my heart.

The Gift of a Memory

A beautiful project to take on!  Lovely.

I have recently started to incorporate birds into the decor of my kitchen.  I also see beautiful birdhouses out of my kitchen window.  I’s funny how some things can remind you of a loved one.

One of the last “projects” I remember doing with my Dad was setting up a wonderful birdfeeder that he had bought that actually had solar lights on the bottom to see the birds dancing on it at night.  He truly was a lover of birdwatching from the comfort of his three season porch.  When we were putting up this birdhouse, my dad was already filled with cancer from his lungs to his bones.  He was unable to walk due to pain, yet he remained forever persistent.  He was able to put a pole onto his deck with screws, and this beautiful birdhouse was sparkling in the sunshine.  It was definitely a difficult project, but so worth the effort.  This is such a fond memory that I have and I am very grateful for it.  Adding the birds around me gives me comfort, and a sense of peace.

My dining room or kitchen is aching for something so beautifully inspired as this!

Dad 1948-2010

Stay Calm and Smile

I spoke at a Public Hearing for the state’s budget to advocate for mental health care recently.  This is something I’ve never done before.  Not knowing what I was doing, I read up on the areas of concern that needed to not be decreased or eliminated, and I wrote why I felt this way.  I also added a tiny bit of my experience with Mental Illness into my writing.

I thought to myself that I was prepared, even though I was unsure if my words were appropriate.  Yes, I  was nervous but onward I went.Waiting for my turn to speak felt eternal.  It is not that I have never done public speaking because I had.  I had spoken about my mental illness in a forum before, and had done it successfully.  But this was different.  This was televised and I was uncertain of the comments I was saying.  This was more of a professional and formal atmosphere than I had previously spoke in before.

Finally my name was called and I walked up and sat in the front chair, and waited for the person beside me to finish speaking.  As I was sitting there, I was aware (quite significantly) that the top of my head began to pound.  I tried to will it away.  I prayed to get through this speech.  It was only two minutes.  I could do this.  Truly I didn’t feel as nervous as my body was responding.  I was able to read some of my speech, but my time seemed to fly by much too quickly.  And when I saw the red light go on, I finished the sentence that I was reading.

I smiled as the chairman of the board said “Thank you for coming”, and I quickly walked out of the Town Hall.  My head was uncontrollably pounding and nausea was taking over.  When I got to my car, first thing I was able to do was call my husband.  Thank God he was available and able to be as calming and understanding as he was.

I sat there in my car crying with my husband at the other end of the phone for over a half an hour.  Then I was able to move my car down the road to the drugstore to get some migraine medicine, and once again sit there for a short period of time.  Thank God for my husband’s calming voice and help with what I should do next.  Sometimes the ability to think to the next step when anxiety takes over is beyond me.  Despite all of my chaos after the speech, it is without any recognition from anyone that there was any problem.

That is the way it always has been for me.  I’m (usually) able to keep it together and smile until after what needs to be done is done.  I can appear calm on the outside, and how I’m able to do this is not even understood by me.  Though this doesn’t work all the time, my calm demeanor is even not understood by me.

What I’m thankful for is that even though I had a breakdown after I spoke at the town hall, the Lord allowed me to speak.  I was able to get across some of my thoughts clearly.  I spoke on behalf of the many people that so need these services, and their funding.

What I learned is that in an atmosphere such as this, I would prefer to advocate from the sidelines.  Perhaps writing my beliefs and experiences would be the better way to go.  I can advocate loudly by writing to the government officials.

This is a copy of my recent statement at the Town Hall in relation to the budget and Mental Healthcare:

March 9, 2015

I first introduced myself.

I’m a former Registered Nurse who is now unable to work due to my disabling Bipolar Disorder, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and Anxiety Disorder. I’m here in support of the funding for Mental Health Services as proposed in the budget.

All of the proposed areas are in great need for continuation, and I believe there is even a greater need than these alone. Even the thought of decreasing the Mental Health efforts when there is such a need for more help is troublesome. This decision will put any mental health reform, stigma, or agenda to decrease discrimination toward mental health obstacles at a major disadvantage. There is such a great need for more medical help, sensitivity to individuals, and a greater need for awareness of the burden that is Mental Illness.

The Ten Year Mental Health Plan and the Children’s Behavioral Health Plan are integral parts to making a change in Mental Health Reform and bringing us to a better place with regard to Mental Illness problems as a society. Thinking of Mental Illness as secondary or a less important problem is wrong and needs to be changed. Meeting the needs of all human beings and their illnesses is the goal.

I recall thinking to myself one time that I would prefer to have a terminal cancer because at least there is an end to the suffering. Why is it that a physical illness is anymore important than mental illness? It is the entire person as a whole that is in need of assistance.

I support the reauthorizing of The New Hampshire Health Protection Program. Low Income families afflicted with substance abuse and Mental Illness need both medical and mental health help, along with substance abuse help as well. There are many individuals already benefiting from the mental health services which are provided as part of this Health Protection Program. Also substance abuse care is needed for low income individuals as well.

Mental Health and Substance Abuse programs are essential. As part of the news we hear about the increase in suicide which can be helped with enough mental health resources available. I must admit that Suicidal Ideation is something in which I struggle with myself. It is a symptom of my mental illness that I deal with, and without resources to help me learn how to deal with it, I may not be here today. Also deaths related to substance abuse is astonishing. I was recently touched by a death of friend’s child. A beautiful young female who was twenty-seven and had one child at her time of death due to heroine. Decreasing these instances and more help is needed.

 Finally, I support the funding for the Mental Health Settlement Agreement. Though it was stated in the “Expert Reviewer Report” written on December 26, 2014 that there are “not sufficient” resources for implementation. These resources are “scarce” but that is not a reason to “slow down or impede implementation”. I believe that moving forward is essential. There are ways to move forward, but to decrease what is minimally available is disheartening. It decreases any abilities to solving critical areas of concern.

Wonderful Beginning

Saying goodbye is so extremely difficult, even if you are the one creating the action.  Many say that when a marriage stays together for a lifetime, that is the way it’s suppose to be.  It is truly amazing.  And yes, I agree.  However there are those times in which a relationship is best to dissolve.  I never thought that I would say these words, yet without a doubt I believe this to be true.

I am not saying that with difficulties in a relationship one should flee and say I’ve had enough.  That would be absurd.  However there are instances when a relationship is damaging and destroying to someone.  In this unhealthy instance, it is imperative to realize this fact and move to the next chapter.  I know that this statement can and will be contested.  However when one lives through an unhealthy relationship, I believe this to be best.

It had been twenty-five years that we had been a couple, and I finally realized that the patterns of anger would not change.  It is not that we had not tried.  It was not that there was not a love between us.  It was that this relationship was unhealthy and emotionally abusive.  And it was time to think of my emotional stability and health.

Leaving a relationship after all those years was incredibly exhausting.  Just to make it through moments at times without thinking about him and wanting to call him was a great effort.  My counselor helped me to achieve and make it through those times.  Learning to increase my time without speaking to him was helpful.  I remember her telling me that if I’m in the car and I want to call him just say to myself that I can make it to the next exit, then to another exit.  This strategy of waiting definitely increased my ability to stay away.  It may sound silly but after being with him from the age of thirteen, there was a definite need for him.

I never understood the hardship that was endured with a divorce, and I believe that someone who has not gone through this pain is at a disadvantage of that understanding capability.  My only comparison is a death of a loved one, yet this person is still alive and can be reached.  This awareness makes the end of the relationship strenuous because there is no definite completion.  Not that this makes this situation harder, it is just similar in that one has to learn to live without that person.

For me this decision, though it was hard, was a breakthrough to a new beginning for me.  At first I felt lost, and I didn’t know what to do with all of my time.  Moving on as a single person was truly something I had not experienced since I was a teenager.  But as time went on, living and moving to the next day was easier.

I met a few people who I dated for brief periods of time, but it was when I met my now husband that I knew he could be the one.  One particular Valentines Day, I remember him travelling an hour and a half in the morning before his work time to surprise me on my lunch break.  I went out to my car and saw it filled with balloons, a  large soft pink teddy bear, beautiful roses, and a box of chocolate.  I remember just laughing and being filled with such a joy that I hadn’t felt for years.  My heart was so filled with love.  He won me over.  It was three years later that we married each other.

I had acquired a PTSD from my previous marriage that my new husband and I had to both learn how to deal with.  Just a harsh or louder tone of voice would make me turn my emotions inward, and I would hold in all of my thoughts and feelings.  Learning how to deal with situations productively for me was challenging.  It was also a challenge for my husband who has always been patient and understanding.

Just the difference in monitoring and controlling my Bipolar has been a complete turn around.  My ex-husband did not like my doctors, my medications, my challenges.  This would cause incredible stress which magnified my difficulties.  My husband now is such a supporter.  He has done research, gone to counselling appointments with me, helps to monitor my moods, and is my biggest supporter.

I remember the fear that my parents had when I was with my ex-husband.  They feared that I would not be cared for properly, if I had a decompensation in my mental status, due to anger or inability to understand on my ex-husbands part.  I recall the relief for both of them felt, before their deaths, with the realization that I was now in a healthy, loving, caring relationship in which protection and understanding would be provided.

God has definitely rewarded me with a new beginning.  Life is moving forward without fear!  The dreadful fear that I lived with for years is gone.  It is joyful and astonishing to know that now when I say something, though I cringe for the response, what I get is a rational reply.  Sometimes I smile to myself because the change is just breathtaking.

My Break in Reality

Telling my story can be fearful and a hard one due to the stigma behind mental illness.  I am living with an illness in which some people think is made up, or evil, or that needs to be disregarded, or perhaps can be willed under control.  Some people may say let it go, or don’t let it define you.  I say “Can you let go of Heart Disease?”.  And yes, define me – it will not!  It is the perceptions of my illness that I am trying to not let define me.  When someone says, I have to make sure that I eat or I need to take my blood sugar before I eat due to diabetes, is that not acceptable?  However when I say, I need to take it easy today my mind is racing or I need to stay home today because my anxiety is too much, the understanding of these topics is obscured with distortion of what mental illness is perceived to be.
I do need to accept my illness and thankfully achieved that goal.  And yes, I need to leave things behind me.  The acceptance for me has been a difficult experience.  Due to my own perceptions of what mental illness is, I struggled with the idea that, “I am one of those?”.  But ultimately it is with the acceptance that I was able to take control and maintain my illness.  Taking responsibility for my own health care and not denying that there is a problem, with the knowledge of diagnosis and care has allowed me to grow .  As well as leaving things behind creates a painful walk, but ultimately with leaving things behind, strength is gained and knowledge, acceptance, and the journey forward can continue.
Being diagnosed with Bipolar in my early twenties was unbelievable to me.  Yet how could I deny that I had gone through a period of mania and stress that led to distortion of thoughts and delusions.  There were particular stressful events that tipped me in that direction, and ultimately made me unable to handle the stress, but what occurred I could not deny.
What my mind did under stressful conditions with the component of a mental illness added is amazing.  My mind was at that point so twisted that I could not make decisions without counting on my fingers because if I ended with the wrong numbers it could end in disaster.  I was trying to maneuver my decisions based on “signs” from God, such as street signs, music, television programs guiding me with what my mind interpreted to be the right way to walk.  I remember coloring with crayons in my basement and deciding whether I would go out that day based on whether the sun would shine that day.  Bible verses were ingrained in my mind.  Then I began with Delusions of Grandeur; my son was the new coming of Jesus Christ.  Dear God, my mind was gone.
How the mind can take over with delusions and be totally in control of one’s life is a scary experience, and how to leave that experience behind is challenging and takes time.  For me, I had to talk it out, and talk it out, and talk it out.  It took me years to wrap my brain around what happened.  Thankfully, it no longer controls me.  Leave it behind and move forward I did!
Understanding that one is not crazy, but that it is an illness that needs medication and to be monitored is so needed.  I recall that during this time of need, in my depression I asked for advise with these life stresses.  It was a pastor that replied to me, “We all have a pity party now and again”. Just a response like that can break the spirit.  It is the recognition of mental illness, treatment, and the respect for people living with this illness that is needed.  Moving forward as a society to honor everyone inflicted with human dignity and recognition will be beautiful to see.

Looking for Guidance

It’s a wonderful thing how the lyrics of a song can speak right to the heart.  The words can give you strength when needed, fill a void, move us forward, give us determination, and will to achieve.  That is exactly what the lyrics of this song is brilliant for doing.  Stand by Rascal Flatts serves to inspire, make the weakened fight, and to guide and move us toward victory!

During happy, difficult, sad, or any other emotion there is, there is a song to be there with me.  It’s amazing how this brilliantly written song gave me the strength when I needed it so desperately during the time when I left my husband and began moving forward into a new unknown area.  I was scared, lonely, and felt so lost.  This was the first time that I would be on my own.

I went from childhood to adulthood in a moments passing.  I was under the wings of my parents, then  I was caring for my child and married by the age of sixteen.  I was naive to what was around me.  Being sheltered and cared for was what I had always experienced.

I wanted to be an adult and I fought to be there.  I wanted to be a mother and show ultimate love and care for my child.  It was a decision that I had made without knowing its depth.  Yet it was a decision that I have always taken seriously and put my full heart and soul into doing with the absolute best ability that I could.

But now I was making decisions for my future without my husband and partner of around twenty-five years.  I was searching for the best for me.  My children were now grown and I was moving forward with my life.  I did still have my parents as always that would support my decisions, but they were careful to stay neutral.  My decisions were my own.

It was a hard walk forward with suicidal thoughts at times, with a mental illness to contain and monitor daily, and now I needed to support myself for the first time while living alone.  I within a short period of time went from a family of five to a single person living alone.  What an impulsive, ambitious, steadfast jolt forward.  But there was no turning back now.  My life depended on this and turning around was no option.

Just getting through moments, minutes, then hours was difficult.  Yet through faith, belief in myself, help from my parents, friends, counselors, doctors, I was able to break free.  Seeing life in a different perspective and less hurtful and emotionally abusive was the goal and I thank the Lord, was achieved.  Living with calmness and less anger brings so much more joy.

The fight to get to this point was a difficult one.  The people that helped me on this journey and down this windy path I am forever grateful and thankful for their love.  And for those wonderfully inspired lyrics that gave me strength and will, I will forever be filled with gratitude to the creators.

With Broad Shoulders

To give your daughter away in marriage when she is sixteen years old must be a hard experience.  That day is still bright in my mind.  I will forever rememFather Lighthouseber his love.  With his voice cracking, I recall the love and concern in his eyes.  Though it was difficult, he was my supporter.  And he always had broad shoulders of protection.  He was always my watchful guardian.  I believe he still is.
Even many years later when I let my nursing license expire due to my inability to work because of my mental illness, he hired me as a receptionist, accounts receivable clerk, and human resources assistant in a mill where he was a manager.  He was able to teach me all that I needed to know, plus much more.  Our bond increased considerably during this time.  During those four years he was able to watch my emotional stability and how I was managing each day.  Yes daily was different with the challenges of my Bipolar.  His concern and ability to support and keep me grounded during that time was admirable.
When he was diagnosed with terminal cancer, he remained optimistic.  I knew that stage four cancer was ultimately going to take his life, and with the medical background I had, I felt trapped in my own dismay.  I could not acknowledge my fears to him.  This made for a lonely, stressful period.  But that day that I felt I was able to tell him how worried I was, I sobbed on his shoulder for the dad that I so loved.  I couldn’t imagine losing him.  He knew that I was scared for him and he comforted me, though I’m sure his own concern for himself was in the forefront.  I recall my tears leaving mascara all over his shirt, and the two of us being able to chuckle about it.  This memory will always be ingrained in my mind.
I am grateful and forever thankful for the Dad that I was blessed to have.  I couldn’t have asked for better.  I will always be full of love and gratitude for all that he provided.  Truly, my hero.

Never Be Afraid of Who You Are


The stigma of mental illness has not been an easy fear for me to combat.  There has been an improvement since years ago, though a better awareness and tolerance is needed.  Also treatment and care needs to be improved within health care, insurance, and across the population of people who just don’t understand what mental illness is all about.

The thought that people think I’m different or crazy because of a diagnosis has been a problem that needs resolution.  Over twenty years ago with my first psychotic break, it was apparent that the inability to cope with a particular situation was beyond by ability.  I do have to admit that at that time the circumstance that brought me over the edge was an undeniable fear.

My capacity to deal with this situation was too much for me, so my mind began to protect me from my fear of loss.  I became delusional with thoughts of my ex-husband being a child molester to my children.  I, after years of wondering why my mind came to that conclusion, decided it was a way of being able to take a valid and complete action against my ex-husband for behavior that was totally intolerable.

Sexual molestation was not the problem but another type of abuse which at times was violent and other times emotional was the case.  I believe I thought that the anger and emotional reasons for abuse could be worked out.  He was not an unkind person after all.  But when social services brought about the thought of the loss of my children, and when I was the one dealing with that issue alone (never my husband), I had lost that parental control.  I had lost the ability to be the mother that I knew I was – a compassionate and loving mother.

It was after mother’s day in which I was given a dozen roses, from my ex-husband, that my mind began to slip.  I was relying on God and his guidance for all of my actions, and I thought that I could see God’s plan being unraveled in front of my eyes.  Clearly I was not thinking rationally.

I confronted my ex-husband about the molestation, which he denied.  Yes, this was a delusion.  But I was absolutely sure this was the case, and he would no longer be a part of their lives.  I was fierce.

Paranoia set in which and I thought I was being watched.  Water, rain, ponds, anything with water would cleanse me, and help to purify my thoughts.  I was fully clothed and walking into a pond near my parents home.  The ability to talk became difficult because I was counting all of my syllables, and feared that I would end up on the wrong number.  Numbers, colors, songs, street signs, time, pretty much everything I saw or heard meant something.

My parents took over with the children and with getting me the help that I needed.  I recall crying and screaming when a friend dropped me off at my parents home.  I was a fully grown adult, yet my dad carried me into the house as I was unable to be comforted and I cried and screamed uncontrollably.  It was mom that fought my battles as I was unable to at that time.  I even resorted back to calling my parents mommy and daddy.  I so needed their help and care.  Being strong for too long and refusing to get help or assistance had control over my mind.  I was under the grips of a total breakdown.

Before being hospitalized, I recall being in bed for the night.  Mom was caring for the kids at my home.  I was having difficulty speaking and my ex-husband came into the room and sat on the edge of the bed.  I’m sure his pride had been crushed due to the accusations I had made.  I tried to speak to him, but I couldn’t get out any words because of my delusional fears.  Tears were the only thing that I could accomplish at that time.  To my disbelief, I recall the anger in eyes as both his hands went to encircle my neck.  He retreated before touching my skin.  However my fear and that unbelievable scenario, I will forever remember.

It is after I received the help that I needed and was put on the medications that I needed that I was able to move on with my life.  The Post Traumatic Stress Disorder of the fear of losing the kids had been initiated and combated for years to come, as I strived to maintain my marriage.  The children were raised and loved and pushed toward successful futures.  And gratefully with much love, my parents were the guiding and loving force which held my optimism and persistence to achieve balance and goals.

I was always afraid to disclose that I had Mental Illness, or any of the stressful chaos in which I had endured.  It was my mom who said that I should never be afraid of who I am.  It was with time and courage that I became capable of telling my story, and to not be afraid of repercussions or of the stigma that remains.

I am now able to embrace the strength that I have achieved through my difficulties.  I am not any different than anyone else.  I have a brain disorder in which medications maintain along with therapy – just as someone who may have any other physical disorder that medications control.  Isn’t our brain just as much a part of our body as our heart, liver, lungs, endocrine system, or any other system or organ?  It is just that which scares people or there is lack of understanding, stigmas are based.