Tag: mental health

Word for 2019

As I said, Goodbye 2018, I wondered if I’d pick a “word” for 2019.

Reading, “it” came! Now, I wonder, in the mystery of it all, if The Word is the one that picks me? I wasn’t looking. I wasn’t trying. I was simply reading, and POW, there it was.

♥ ♥ ♥ Beloved ♥ ♥ ♥

⇒I am loved by God⇐

⇒I am loved by my Family⇐

No earning. No striving. Nothing to do. Nothing to prove. Simply accepting being LOVED.

“Wisdom is realizing [that] allowing someone to help us can be a much bigger task than actually helping someone else. Accepting help means releasing the judgement we’ve imposed on ourselves.” – Melki JK Russell

Hello 2019

I’ve been handed a gift. It’s opened and ready to be embraced. This is not like most gifts. A typical gift is given and opened at will. This gift has been handed to me and opened already, even if I didn’t want to receive it or open it. In a typical gift, one is able to see the entire contents of the package. This gift is one I get to “open” moment-by-moment. I can only “see” what’s in front of me. The future is unknown. Each moment a welcomed surprise, or a surprise I’d rather not have. However, “it” is still a marvelous gift. One not granted to many.

~ 365 days ~

And, so, I will continue to learn to Just Breathe…; to allow my pen to flow freely and let Ink Speaks; to embrace that I am Different; to Live! today, for tomorrow is not a guarantee; to Just be… present in the moment.

My husband, my son, my son’s girlfriend (who has become a dear friend), are my safe people. They love and support me – AND I do not take this for granted. I am keenly aware that not everyone is surrounded by such love and support.

So I lift my glass and toast with each one of you, my fellow sojourners. Grateful for the time you take to visit. Grab a chair and stay awhile, but only if you wish. If you pass by, thank you! Glad you found your way through this place.

Today I have my walking shoes on and am “ready” to continue the journey. Tomorrow, well, I can’t say. But, hey, in the “present”, I say let the pen be ready for what comes next 😀

Will you join me?

Goodbye 2018

I decided to pick a word for 2018, as a popular trend encourages one to do.

~ through ~ was the word I picked

2018 is on it’s last days, and 2019 is on the horizon. Yes, it looks like I will make it “through”. Not pretty, not flawless, not smooth sailing at all! Sometimes walking, at times crawling, or should I say, “dragging”? And many times barely breathing.

The hodgepodge of emotions is…well…scrambled, with no rhyme or reason. Normalcy is a figment of my imagination. Making sense of it all, can create a senseless existence. Acceptance, surrender…acceptance, surrender…on repeat.

“Bittersweet” – a word that continues to be made clearer in my foggy mind. The mixture of emotions that, seemingly, do not mix. The joy of dancing under the stars with my son, along with the ache of not having my daughter. The laughter while sharing a meal, as the tears flow remembering her favorite food. Christmas filled with wonder, as we sit in front of a headstone.

Phrases like, “I could never…” “I’ve always done it like…”, and so on, are completely obliterated from my vocabulary. Because, guess what?! My plan, my agenda…the “I did it my way”, well is just creating more chaos, in my already scrambled brain. Rethinking. Regrouping. Reevaluating.

Walking into a therapist office because my “doctor made me do it”, and fighting every urge in me to run the other way. An inner fight with stigma, with the semblance of weakness, with condemning voices.

Wanting to explain my every action or non-action. Hearing judgment, disappointment, disillusionment.

Being vulnerable, transparent, frail, needy…against every fiber that says, “you got this!” Cause, being weak and needy, is just not passé.

Will I pick a word for 2019? Not sure, yet. Would you pick a word?

AND, so, we say goodbye to another year. What will this coming year bring? Only God knows. All, I know is that I just have to get through this moment in time. The rest is out of my hands.

Grief Unchained

Have you ever read something or been told something, so you think “you know” and are “prepared“? (OMG, this word does NOT belong next to or in the vicinity of grief!!!) — Yeah, no creative writing going on around here.

What am I talking about? I’m talking about all the information that is out there regarding “the first year after losing a loved one”. First…everything!

My first Christmas without my daughter was a total BLUR! However, I was “prepared” for “it” to be the worst. AND, let me tell you, I attempted “everything” I had read or been advised to do in order to “minimize” and get through the pain. I even attempted to “be-other-centered” so as to not “turn-in-to-myself”(other peoples words, not mine). Oh, the going caroling at the senior center; the visiting shut-ins and singing songs; the hospitality. What was I thinking?!?!?! Let me tell you, the “pleasing-people-chart” was filled with stars and happy faces. However, I was dying inside. But, true to myself (haha!), I kept this up until I collapsed. Which landed me at my doctors office; which landed me in the ER; which landed me in therapy.

In one of my many talks with My Grieving Friend she said to me, “Grief demands our attention. You cannot ignore it. It will show up whether you like it or not. You might as well pay attention to it and deal with it in a healthy manner.” Now, did I think I was ignoring my grief? Absolutely not! I was just trying to put one foot in front of the other (and, pleasing people while I was at it). My physical body knew otherwise, and hence its total shut down.

Sitting here today – my second Christmas without my daughter – the anesthesia completely gone…fully awake…there isn’t a substance or activity in this world that will take away the pain or even remotely minimize it!

MY DAUGHTER IS NEVER WALKING THROUGH THE DOOR

MY DAUGHTER IS NEVER – ETC., ETC., ETC.,

This side of heaven “it” will never be ok. I’m a Scrooge! I’m a Grinch! If, I could hibernate until all the joyful-sounds were over, I would. However, I know that when I come out of hibernation, the pain will still be there😥💔

Depression/December

December is here! Holiday cheer at its best…so that’s what I hear. However, for those suffering from depression, well, for so many reasons, the “sadness” gets even deeper and gloomier. Maybe it’s the “postcard” images ingrained in our minds. Maybe it’s the filtered social media images that constantly assault us and make us think that “everyone is happy” except us. Or maybe it is just LIFE :-/

That Porcelain Doll has been shattered. The Plastic Faces have melted. And, even though the pain is excruciating, I can breath. I can walk in the freedom of who I am. The fitting in, the pretending was suffocating and oh, so, tiring.

My December won’t have fake tinsel and glitter. I will, however, be real and present for those that desire to have me around. AND, that, my friends is a gift worth giving; and the memories made are priceless treasures to cherish for years on end.

I am not sure where this “December” finds you. I hope and pray that “it” won’t bring you to despair. I’d love to pray for you, if you are inclined to share your need with me. We never walk alone!

THANK YOU to all who visit, follow, comment and like.

I am grateful for each and every one of you.

~~~Walking together, on this journey called life~~~

Senseless

Is everything business? Is nothing sacred? That proverbial “used-sales-man” pitch. They sell you a Lamborghini while you drive off in a lemon. My stomach turns, I get angry, my heart aches even more.

Just a thought: Maybe, just maybe…NO SERIOUSLY…”sales-people” at funeral homes and cemeteries need to be better trained on how to handle grieving loved ones (material for another post).

The cemetery – when one is being taken on a “tour” to pick out the “best-spot” for your loved ones resting place (this is just wrong!), it almost seems like it’s a tour of a resort with lots of sales pitches. Gosh-darnit, I HATE IT! It was the day after my daughter took her last breath. All I remember is a buzzing sound in my head and just having to get this done…IT had to get done. Could it had been handled better? I think so!

The cemetery’s website showcases beautiful manicured grounds, while the reality is far, far from it. Was this Photoshop or taken somewhere else? Fake advertising!

I have been “assaulted” with sights that hurt me deeply! Tractor tracts so deep that I wondered if they did wheelies on my daughters site. A deep, deep hole as her site was sinking (which I reported and reported and was told it would be fixed. However, they took so long we ended up fixing it ourselves because I could not stand the site of this anymore). Flowers and decorations thrown away. And, yesterday, her stone was completely covered with mud and her decorations where cast aside.

Am I petty? Am I overly sensitive? I say NOT!

I’ve been so upset that I’ve thought of taking a shovel, digging her out and bringing her home. YES!!!!!!!! Kinda, like when you take your kid home cause that’s the only way to protect them. Yes, I sound like a lunatic! At times, I scare myself. But this is my reality. This is what I live with. I believe her remains don’t feel any of this BS, but this Momma’s whole being trembles at such horrific sights. The grave is horrid enough without all this muck!

Venting…Vomiting…BEING REAL…grrrrrrrrrrr!

Walking

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” ~ Psalm 23:4

“Walk” – the act of putting one foot in front of the other, causing forward movement. It could be a steady pace, a slow pace, a shuffle or a drag. The moving forward can be clearly evident or barely noticeable.

“Through” – Google defines this as, moving in one side and out of the other side of (an opening, channel, or location); continuing in time toward completion of (a process or period).

Just to words to chew…to ponder…to meditate on. Just two words to steady the chaotic flow of my mind. Just to words to sink my teeth into, to savor every bit of their meaty meaning. Not a whole book, not a paragraph, not even a sentence, but two words.

Just like my physical body needs nutritious dense foods to function, my mind needs life giving words. Words that bring hope.

When the bottom falls out – heck! when it literally shatters to pieces – from under your feet, you need more than just cliches or pat-answers. When the shell of your precious daughter’s body is being lowered into a hole, ONLY the hope in the God of the Resurrection can keep you from throwing yourself after her.

AND so I walk, believing I will get through to the other side. But as I walk through to the other side, I will, by God’s grace be present for those that are still walking on this journey called life.

Here is to walking together ❤

Stigma

The stigma and shame behind “labels” can create enormous havoc in an already broken and fragile state of mind. The struggle to cope and understand is greatly affected by once upbringing and the prevailing mindset of those around you.

I grew up in an environment where the mindset was that you fended for yourself and vigilantly hid any sign of weakness. Talking about “it” was a resounding NO…not an option. Going to the doctor was not an option, either, let alone a mental health specialist. Finances were slim to nothing. Any monies had would go to feeding the many mouths that begged for a piece of tortilla to appease their growling stomachs.

Any reference to a psychiatrist or psychologist was in disgust or disdain saying, “that person must be totally crazy to go to that! That’s not needed. They are good for nothing.”

There was an auntie who dared to venture into that forbidden territory. Oh, the things that were whispered about her. Those words cut to the heart. No one else dare venture out. They did not want to be part of those cutting conversations and side glances.

Do to extreme circumstances, another family member saw herself in need of venturing out. She did, however, in the strictest most hidden way. No one must know. Eventually, she stopped going. Maybe it was too difficult to keep up the front…we will never know. In her ultimate darkest moment, the “help” needed was denied and with no power to keep fighting, she ultimately succumbed to it all.

Many months have ensued, the memory of accepting my medical doctor’s advice comes to mind. The initial phone call. The first appointment. All the voices within and without. The fight to not get up from that chair. The fight to not flee that office…to run out. Each session, a struggle to accept.

I think I’m starting to accept…I think I’m starting to give my therapist a chance…I think this is NOT weakness, but strength…I think this is not shameful, but a necessity.

~ ~ ~ AND…it is…OK ~ ~ ~