Childhaven steps in when parents can't cope

It's a lot easier to catalog mental illness when things spiral out of control.

Maybe there is a 911 call, and medics, and a rush to the emergency room. It's all in the reports, the details of a family traumatized.

The lowest of the low points for Deborah Lynn Penna, 36, was Oct. 15, 2008.

That's when her depression spiraled to the point that Penna concluded that her two daughters, now 3 and 18, and her husband, Steve Penna, 31, would be better off if she were dead.

So, she says, she popped 14 anti-anxiety pills.

"The next thing I know, my chest is being knuckled by a paramedic," remembers Penna.

But other times, mental illness is harder to catalog, often because a kindness is shown, somebody steps in.

That was the case in September when the nonprofit Childhaven, which typically helps abused and neglected children, arranged for Deborah Penna's youngest, Riona, an effervescent little girl, to spend three nights with one of its foster-care providers.

That's another of Childhaven's services, to offer temporary child care for parents — mostly women — who need a brief respite during whatever crisis is in their lives. Last year, the agency provided 348 children with such emergency child care.

Childhaven is one of 13 social-service agencies that benefit from The Seattle Times Fund For The Needy.

Penna says she often felt overwhelmed and alone.

Steve Penna is a gunner's mate in the Coast Guard, and is gone on assignments that take him away from home, sometimes for two or three months at a time.

For plenty of military spouses, that's everyday life. But everyday life is vastly different for someone with bipolar disorder.

Deborah Penna has no family in the Northwest, and few friends. Steve Penna's previous Coast Guard assignment had been in Key West, Fla.

Deborah Penna's world became the family apartment in Lynnwood.

Maybe it was her mental state that created that self-imposed prison. In trying to understand his wife's state, Steve Penna would say, "It is what it is."

His wife tried to explain, "I'm just emotionally and physically exhausted. I'm sad all the time. I just want to give up. I'm doing the same thing day after day. I have nobody to talk to except a 3-year-old."

In the uneventful three days with the Childhaven child-care provider, Riona says, she had a lot of fun with the family who took her in. She played with the family's dog and their daughter.

The foster-care family is licensed by the state and works only for Childhaven. The family is not doing it for the $20-a-day stipend but because they want to help.

In turn, Penna, diagnosed as bipolar after her suicide attempt, got three days to take a breather. She went to the mall, got her hair done, and just hung out at the family's Lynnwood apartment.

It's hard to quantify what that three-day respite accomplished.

But for Penna, it offered something to grab onto.

Jenn Sparr is the case manager for Childhaven's Crisis Nursery. She says parents will tell her that the three-day break helped.

"Parents will tell us that they were on the brink of doing something to their child that they'd later regret," she says. "It could be being impatient, it could be yelling, it could be all the way to hitting the child."

Riona, 3, seems a happy little girl, happy with her mom, and happy when her dad comes home.

The Pennas are working through the upheaval that's happened to the family.

Steve Penna says that his wife had been open with him since the beginning of their relationship about depression problems that began in her teen years. He says his wife's demeanor changed after their daughter was born.

"It's something you don't have a lot of control over. You have to suck it up, deal with it," he says.

Deborah Penna says, "I'm living day by day. I don't look too much into the future."

Jenn Sparr says her agency is here, for the next time the mom feels the world closing in, and needs a few days respite.

Erik Lacitis: 206-464-2237 or elacitis@seattletimes.com