Focus on the positive…

I have a pet peeve about this statement, especially if it is coming as a piece of advice or from people who think they know what’s wrong with you and how to fix it.

There is a difference between complaining or focusing on the negative and facing the reality of painful and challenging circumstances.

I know that there are people who do nothing without finding fault and a reason to complain. However, asking people how they are doing or feeling, especially if you know they are facing a difficult time and/or dealing with a chronic or mental illness, and getting irritated that all they mention is their pain, difficulties, and trouble just doesn’t make sense to me.

Being able to tell someone what’s wrong and how I’m feeling, openly and honestly, without fear that I’m going to be judged and shut down and with the knowledge that I’m going to be heard and accepted is an invaluable and freeing thing.

If I can put voice to my fears, worries, concerns, and the things I see or experience as obstacles and can see in the eyes of the person I’m talking to understanding and acceptance, then it’s easier for me to settle down and accept what’s going on instead of feeling the need to struggle and fight against it.

Telling someone about all the things that are overwhelming me and making it difficult for me to see the bigger picture isn’t me asking for them to solve my problems or to burden themselves with my issues. It’s simply me wanting to feel understood, connected and cared about.

Sometimes, I just need to give voice to and let out the overwhelming feelings of sadness, pain, confusion, fear, and anger in order to get them out of the way so I can better see and recognize what there is to be grateful, hopeful and appreciative of and for. Often, when I talk out the problems and issues, I find new perspective and discover alternatives and solutions.

There are those whose innate personality and character enable them to write out lists and cogitate & meditate in isolation and process their issues and concerns in a way that enables them to reach resolution. That’s great for them. That’s just not how I and many others function and process.

So, if you don’t want to know, don’t really care or have the time/energy/inclination to hear what’s really going on with me, don’t ask. If you don’t want to be bothered with the negativity of me processing my issues, then unsubscribe or unfriend me and don’t read my blog. But don’t judge me or criticize me because you can’t deal with my reality.

I know I do need to learn how to celebrate and appreciate what’s good and positive in life. But after years of denying, running from, avoiding, and fighting against the pain and trauma, facing it realistically and honestly accepting it’s existence is slowly clearing the path to realizing and accepting that there is good with and in the bad.

INCINUARY

INCINUARY.

Too good to not share.

On hiatus, again

I am currently without a computer at home, and will be for the foreseeable future. This post is courtesy of a miniature, handheld computer/communication device. Painstakingly pecking out posts with my right thumb on a minuscule touchscreen keyboard is not something I will endeavor to attempt on a regular basis.

Sadly, this hasn’t been the reason for my distinct lack of writing, reading, or commenting in the blogosphere. true confession time. I have not been living up to the title & intent of my blog title. I have most decidedly NOT been “in recovery,” more like wallowing, submerging, and barely functioning. The combination of depression, fibromyalgia, an extended cold, dark & wet Spring, mixed in with major life, relationship, and financial stressors have had their way with me.

Lack of insurance means lack of access to treatment and much needed professional support, so I have muddled along to the best of my ability on good days, while rolling over & playing dead in complete surrender and overwhelming inertia on others.

The good news is that my many years of therapy, counseling, and b-mod training have sporadically kicked in and prevented me from completely imploding and for today the light at the end of the tunnel is providential and not that of another oncoming train.

So, until I break hiatus again, fear not. I am here, I am breathing, and “Ahhl be bahk.”

Normal

Reblogged from Infinite Sadness... or what?:

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Seriously, I am as normal as you.

Mental Health Awareness Month – May 2012Bringing Mental Health out of the darkness

This month, in some countries, it is Mental Health Awareness Month.  I should add though, that it’s not in my country (New Zealand).  For some reason our Mental Health Awareness activities happen in October.  So perhaps I’ll re-post this in October for the sake of my kiwi readers. 

Read more… 1,202 more words

I could not have written any better about this subject. While reading it, it seemed as though my own thoughts, feelings, and experiences were being shared.

BULLY PULPIT

Reblogged from dan4kent:

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“One day a man named Bill dies. Bill, having been a devout Christian, passes over without too much trouble. Arriving at the Pearly Gates, Bill enters and follows the signs to Reception. Walking up to Front Desk, he’s greeted by Saint Peter who checks him in. Handing the man his welcome package, St. Peter motions the Bell Angel to join them.

Read more… 2,814 more words

This is too good and too important to not pass it on.

Everybody Welcome!

Today’s message at Bridge City Community Church, from the current series, “Christianity Gone Wrong: 5 dumb ways the church gets in Jesus’ way. (And how it can be different.), was incredibly on target for me today.

Here’s the summation:

“God has shown me that I must not call ANY PERSON common or unclean.” Acts 10:28 HCSB (emphasis mine)

“What God has made clean, you must not call common.” Acts 10:15

Jesus was the final sacrifice to restore, reconcile, and redeem every person. With His death and at the point of His resurrection, God made everyone “clean” and acceptable to HIM.

 

End. Of. Story.

Adjusting the focus: moving from lament to celebration for Mother’s Day

Ever since I joined the 21st Century and the digital i-volution and upgraded to the iPhone 4s at the end of February, I’ve discovered that I love to take pictures of flowering plants. Lots and lots of pictures of bright and colorful plants of all shapes and sizes, especially if they flower: trees, shrubs, bulbs, wildflowers, and/or weeds I would point, zoom in and out, then click and click some more. Then would upload them to Facebook.

Doing this on the few sunny and relatively dry and comfortable days we’ve had throughout the past two and a half months, has been like holding onto a lifeline through the morass of stress, anxiety, pain, and depression that I’ve been wallowing in. I have been soul deep in the muck and the mire of worry, fear, resentment, and the mental/emotional self-flagellation because of the broken, bent, and bruised relationships with my adult children and all the ways I failed them, despite all my efforts and desire to do and be different and better.

I let myself get so consumed with everything that’s going wrong and the stress of everything I have no control over, that I was incapable of celebrating and sustaining a sense of wonder and gratitude over the things that are good and getting better in my life and in my relationships with all three of my children, especially in my relationship with my son.

I had not spent more than 5 – 10 minutes alone with him, since before he moved out in January. In February he publicly (and briefly) labeled me his incubator while another woman was given the title of mom. Most conversations were short, abrupt, and awkward. During the few interactions we had, most of my maternal declarations of love, care, and concern were met with silence and deflected with a shift in conversational focus. March brought the news of his engagement and of spiritual growth and renewal in his life. With that came his stilted and deliberate efforts to engage and include me in his life, in limited ways. I began to feel hope that a bridge was being built.

On April 15th, we had a God moment and we broke through some of the emotional and spiritual barriers that have been separating us. All it took was me actually putting effort to overcome the inertia and bring order to the chaos I had allowed to reign in my environment. I stayed home from church and spent four hours cleaning: dishes, laundry, decluttering, and removing the debris because I knew he would arrive that afternoon to pick up his littlest sister to spend time with her. Part of the motivation was that I was projecting and assuming what he would be thinking and how he would be judging me if he arrived and witnessed the chaos. Part of the motivation was that I was remembering how happy and grateful he had been six months ago when he came in and experienced a sense of peace and calm when coming into our home after having spent time with some old family friends whose environment has continually been overflowing with disordered clutter. I was hoping to recreate that experience for both of us. As a result, he altered his plans on the spot and invited me to spend the afternoon with him and his sister, as a family.

We spent a couple of hours walking through the neighborhood and at the local park. We talked about a variety of different things and took turns playing with the little one on the swings and play structures. When we got back to my place, I was able to tell him how tangible his happiness was to me and how grateful and happy I was for him and that he has the people in his life that he does. I let him know that even though I have my feelings about the difficulties in our relationship with each other, I am profoundly thankful that he has a familial relationship with a couple who have given him the example of and included him in the realm of a God-centered, healthy and functional family . . . something no one in my immediate family has ever experienced and that I was incapable of providing for him.

At that point, I received such a gift – he came over to me, took my hands in his, looked me in the eyes and told me how thankful he was that I had never let him go or given up on him and that he was sorry for ever having made me feel like I had been replaced. From there we hugged, and of course, I cried. Then, he started ministering to me on spiritual matters.

Since then, there has been an ease in our conversations with each other and a couple of weekends ago I went with him and his fiancee when they spent the afternoon with the littlest one. We spent a couple of hours at the zoo, meandering, taking pictures, and just enjoying each others company. Today, while I was at work, trying not to melt down over the issues with my qualifier, I got a call from a random, out of state phone number. It was a man who was with my son telling me that he had been in a minorly major accident while commuting to work on his bicycle. He was shaken up and in pain, his phone had gone missing, and my phone number was the only one he could remember. When my son was injured and in trouble, I was the one who got a phone call – not his other “parents” and not his fiancee. That was such a gift for me to realize that regardless of everything that we’ve put each other through, I am the first call, at least for today.

Meanwhile, my oldest daughter has been growing farther and farther distant as her life has been hitting roadblock after roadblock. On the same weekend I had the breakthrough with my son, she reached out to me to follow through on something that had been promised her a few months before, and because of the logistics, cost, and physical limitations I wasn’t able to follow through as immediately as she was expecting and asking. Once it was finally accomplished, she completely went off my radar and didn’t respond to any efforts to connect on my part for the next couple of weeks. She contacted me at the beginning of this month because she needed something else. Honestly, I was relieved and annoyed in equal measure. Since then, she has spent time with me/us and now I even know where she is living. Yesterday she called and came over, out of the blue. We have tentative plans to hang out and take the little sis to the park this Sunday, which happens to be Mother’s Day.

A couple of days ago I finally joined the Instagram bandwagon and since then have been discovering all the different ways to adjust and edit the pictures I’ve taken of those beautiful and vibrant spring plants, among other subjects. I had disdained that app because I couldn’t see any benefit to filtering and altering the things I had seen and accepted as the only way to see and accept them. In the last two days, I have seen how changing the filter, shifting the focus, and focusing closer or widening the perspective changes the way I perceive those beautiful gifts from God.

Today, I realized that I have been so invested in the one perspective of lamenting the mother I was and regretting the mother I wasn’t that I haven’t learned how to accept and appreciate the mother I am along with the joys and gifts that my children are, just by being my children. So, whether I get to spend time with my adult children on Mother’s Day or if my pre-schooler has a meltdown or behaves “perfectly,” I can celebrate my motherhood with clarity, confidence, and most of all, gratitude.

Brotherly Love

Kisses from Lala

DIL to be with youngest at the zoo

The more things change…

April has been a difficult month for me…as evidenced by my lack of posts.

Cold, wet weather periodically interrupted with brief flashes of heat and sun have wreaked havoc with both the depression and the fibromyalgia symptoms, which have been exacerbated by severe lower back pain from what seems to be a herniated disc.  However, since I don’t have insurance or money for a doctor, I don’t actually have a diagnosis for that.  The symptoms have also been exacerbated by the stress of transitioning into “single-parenting” mode while my daughter’s father was taking on a new job as an over the road truck driver, and all the subsequent cascade of changes that initiated and required.

Now, it seems, he may or may not be continuing with this employment and is en route home via Greyhound.  This past week, has been a non-stop blast of texts from him wavering, ranting, and raving about this job and how he is feeling about all the different things that are causing him distress and discomfort.  Now, rent is due and we don’t have enough money to cover it, much less the other bills that will be due within the next two – three weeks.

I think that the hardest thing for me isn’t necessarily not knowing how bills are going to get paid, but a combination of all the repetitive messages listing all the things wrong with his co-driver, the company, and the job, etc., as well as his statements about how “unchristian” the actions and words of his co-driver were, all while his own words and descriptions in the texts were not displaying what one would expect or hope a person of faith would put out in the world.  There were even moments when I somehow came to be at fault for the situation he found himself in. Add into the mix, the fact that even once the “final” decision to quit was made and money was spent for transportation home, there has been the see-saw of indecision, as there is still a possibility he can keep his job with the company and start with a newly “graduated” co-driver in a week.  Now, he’s telling me to make the decision and tell him what to do because I’m the level headed one in the relationship and he wants to do what is right for our family.  Moreover, the seemingly constant expectation that somehow I am supposed to accept, forgive, absolve, and trust him in these circumstances because God is in control, has me tied up in knots emotionally, spiritually, and even physically.

In the midst of all of this, I have caved and given into the inertia from being overwhelmed with fear, anxiety, resentment, and as always, the depression.  Eating too much, moving too little, numbing out on food and making mind mush by overdosing on television.  It has been a miracle that I got out of bed, out of the apartment and got myself to work and the little one to school as often as I did and unsurprising that there were periods when not a whiff of fresh air entered through the opening of a door to the outside world.

Yet, even as someone cannot forcibly hold themselves under water because the body’s involuntary responses to fight to breathe and live will kick in, it seems there is a spiritual, psychological, and emotional automatic failsafe inside of me that doesn’t allow me to sink too low, get too numb, or bury myself too deep before I start fighting to breathe, climb, and claw my way back to the surface.  I’ve been holding on and have been seeing bright and beautiful gifts in nature; capturing those images with a point and click to remind me that there is still light shining in the darkness of my psyche.

Evidence of Spring

 

 

Light, hope, & faith

I woke up this morning about ten ’til three and am still awake almost two hours later (gotta love insomnia due to pain and discomfort).  I didn’t want to wake the sleeping child, but was hoping I could read myself back to sleep, so I opened up the Blue Letter Bible app on my phone and started reading the book of John, again. Mind you, I’m probably one of the most heretical Christians I know, since I frequently question the veracity and validity of the Bible, in it’s many translations and variations, at least inside my own mind.  However, I do believe and have faith in God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit and the power of prayer.  The fact that I struggle to hold onto those beliefs in the midst of depression and regularly choose to fret, fuss, and fume instead of act on them does not mean I lack faith.  It just means I’m human and am still a work in progress, moving forward.

The opening verses of John state that in the beginning was the Word.  The word was with God and the Word was fully God and that through the Word all things were made.  It goes on to state that in the Word was life that is the light of mankind.  That light shines in the darkness and darkness has not overcome it.

My apartment is filled with darkness…much like my inner thoughts and emotions have been due to the depression that I have continually lived with since adolescence.  Yet, it isn’t complete darkness.  The little red numbers on a clock, the ambient glow from the street light outside, silhouetting the blinds, the various colored led indicators from several electronics scattered throughout the apartment all shine through in the dark and provide enough light to keep me from bumping into walls and falling over furniture.  Darkness does not overcome these little spots of light, even though it permeates my home.

Darkness permeates this world – all the horror stories of what humans do to other humans, the reports of natural disasters & famine, and the ongoing decay and decline of the economy and the environment.  Hatemongers and conspiracy theorists abound.  It’s way too easy to find all the reports of darkness online, in print, and on television.  However, even in the midst of all of this darkness, there are bright little spots of light.  The driver who actually chooses to follow the rules of the road and allow a mother walking her toddler to cross the street in the midst of rush hour traffic where there is no crosswalk or signal; The laughter of co-workers teasing and joking with one another; a “friend” on a social networking site sharing a picture and sentiment intended to bless, inspire, and share hope; The smiles, giggles, and laughter of a child who is seeking attention and connection – these are all little spots of light in the midst of the darkness of this world.  While there are larger lights out there, they may not always be something to be found in the midst of darkness that seems to encompass and occupy the space all around.  Sometimes, these little lights are the only things that we can focus on to keep from being completely overwhelmed by the darkness.

Whenever I get too bogged down in the darkness of my thoughts and the circumstances of my life or what is happening in the world, there is always something that shines through it to shed some light and give me hope that somehow I will come through the darkness and experience the light.  This gives me hope.  For this reason, I believe in Jesus and have faith in Him.  I want life, I want light, and I choose to look for reasons to have hope and faith.

Shine Jesus Shine