Category: Deep Thoughts

Frogs Jump – I am a Work in Progress

I am SOOOOOOOOO excited……like a giddy schoolgirl on Christmas Morning excited.

Frogs Jump Title
Click here to check out the book

Go ahead and click on the first page and it will take you to a preview of my book. It’s still not quite finished. I’ve got work, still, to finish up the cover and what I’d like to consider is my signature End Page……ha!

This process has been incredibly exhilarating and exhausting.

I am loving seeing my dreams come to life. I’ve dreamed about writing books since I was a little girl. I dreamed and dreamed and dreamed and dismissed those dreams as frivolous. Anxiety, Self Condemnation and Judgment told me that I was ridiculous to even think about doing something as silly as writing books; even though I spent hours enthralled within the worlds inside my childhood books.

So, I dismissed those dreams. I pushed them down and tried to ignore the longing to “ignite wonder” in children’s minds. Over the years, I’ve written many little stories and songs….mostly for my children, about my children…..and told and sung them to my children.

Seeing this book unfolding and coming to life……it feels like I am starting to breathe after holding my breath for far too long. You know that moment when you break through the surface of the water after being under for a moment longer than you can actually stand…..

And yet, it’s terrifying and exhausting. I feel like I’m in an epic battle.

I feel determined that anxiety won’t win this battle and yet everything in me wants to go back into hiding. It feels safer there (except that whole drowning thing, doesn’t feel all that great). It’s less vulnerable to just keep things status quo. It’s hard to put yourself out there, especially when there is still a huge part of you that doesn’t really believe that you have anything worth contributing. And it’s those thoughts, that I’m determined to…..to… prevail over.

It often feels too terrifying, too exhausting, too overwhelming……to move forward. And yet, I’m holding on to the life giving moments as well and trusting that I’m ready and able to take these next steps.

I don’t even know what the next steps are….but I’m going to figure that out. I hope you’ll come along for the journey. It’s always better to do things with your friends, than to do them alone.

The Perpetual Grief Series

Imagine, if you would, a sunshine filled garden exploding with a riot of colors, sounds and smells. The colors are vibrant and exciting as they effortlessly clash and blend together. The perfume from the flowers and the wonderful earthy smell of the warm dirt and the grass fills your senses. You can hear the wind blowing and the birds chirping…..it’s an incredible experience. You feel calm and peaceful just thinking about that place……..

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Now imagine that you are in that place…….but you have glasses on with grey, smudgy lenses; that you are wearing a backpack with 25 pounds of rocks inside that are weighing you down, giving you a headache and making your shoulders feel so tense and sore. Imagine that you have on heavy boots that make every step you take an extra effort; and you’re exhausted because you must. keep. moving. or something won’t get done. Imagine that you have on headphones and a crowd of people are shouting different instructions at you; and you feel that you must follow all the directions and manage to get everything done that they are requesting or demanding. Imagine that you are juggling but what you are juggling is fragile and if you somehow drop one, there are huge consequences………now imagine that this is every day 24/7 for as long as you can remember and as long as you can see…..You can sort of, almost remember what life was like before the exhaustion and the weight of the stress; but because your “now” is so overwhelming……”before” has become this idealized place that you no longer have clear access to and at times, you can feel very resentful of where you are at, right now.

I know that life is not that amazing sunshine filled, calm, peaceful place, all the time. But my life with special needs kids, 99.9% of the time, feels like the second part of that imaginary place……and it’s exhausting!

It’s exhausting, thinking about it. It’s exhausting, living it.

And with that exhaustion comes guilt, and more grieving.

I have special needs children and sometimes it feels like those children and their “special needs” are my whole world. But they’re not……

I have myself. I, way too often, put myself last and really have nothing to give but everything is required and I give – at a deficit to myself. I end up wondering what the long term effects, physically, mentally and emotionally, will be. It’s only a fleeting wonder, as I don’t have “time” to dwell on it.

I have a husband. He, way too often, gets the short end of the stick because he is an adult and capable of caring for himself. But with all that is required of me, there is very little to give to him, and I often grieve the friendship and intimacy that we could have, should have……..did have and I took for granted? We have a weekly date night (thanks to respite) but often we sit side by side, shell shocked over this life we are living. We attempt to connect, knowing that it won’t be this way forever; but he is my best friend and even though we are married, see each other every day, live together, sleep together….I miss him. And yet, right now, so much else, consumes our time and thoughts and energy.

I have 2 big girls who are becoming incredible women. I grieve the lack of time and energy to spend with them. I am so thrilled that they want to spend spend time with me. But I feel guilty when my initial thought is that I don’t want to spend time with them because I have nothing more to give. And I grieve……I grieve being the mother they need and want. I do my best, but too often, I’m scared that my best is not enough.

I have a 5 year old. And against all the odds, he seems to be neuro-typical……what some might call normal. I’m not sure what normal really is or even if you can actually say that anyone is normal, but he doesn’t have Autism or ADHD and he doesn’t seem to have any glaring learning disabilities, that we are aware of. He struggles a little with some anxiety and has a harder time with transitions (than I’d like). But, he really seems to fit in with what society would consider to be a typical 5 year old. It’s wonderful and bizarre to see him reaching milestones, remembering names, being able to read and identify emotions in himself and in others, being able to sit still and focus….. He could be my little soccer player or join a karate club…….but remember that description above…..I’m exhausted. And feel like I have nothing left to give. And I grieve…..

I desire friendships and relationships, but there is no extra to give. Everything comes at a cost. Sometimes the investment is worth it, sometimes its not….and it’s a huge juggling act to know when, where, why, and how to fit it all in. As a result, unless it’s someone who understands what I’m going through and is willing to be there when I can muster up the energy……friendships are sparse, fleeting and oh so shallow. But if and when you do find those people who get it…….it’s incredible. But then you grieve your inability to have as much time as you’d like. Sometimes, its easier to not know what you’re missing…..

So much of “special needs” parenting has this underlying thread of guilt and sadness woven through it. I might try to fit or blend in. I might try to “do it all”…..but I just can’t. There is simply too much.

And I grieve…..

I don’t think that Perpetual Grief is limited to special needs parenting, it can be brought on by any form of long term trauma like physical or mental illness, divorce, loss, etc……

Once again, my goal in sharing about this, is not because I’m trying to explain how hard my life is or that I’m looking for pity. I know there are others out there who feel this way and I want to let you know that you’re not alone. The journey of Perpetual Grief is not an easy one, but knowing that you’re not alone seems to help. It won’t make it all better, but it helps a little.

I also know that there are those who don’t understand. They don’t understand why I don’t do extra things. Why I always say, “no.” Why I have to weigh and measure how worth it, it’s going to be to do something that seems like it would be fun and exciting. I know that there are those who don’t understand why we won’t alter our schedule to do some fun activity because the “schedule” keeps things balanced and I’m too tired to try to allow for things to become unbalanced. There are those who don’t understand why I’m too tired, when I don’t do anything extra. Grief is a funny thing. You’re not always sad but it’s like a weight that sits heavy on you……and when it’s always around….you’re always tired.

Be kind. Be compassionate. Don’t judge.

Read Part 2 of The Perpetual Grief Series here

Read Part 1 of The Perpetual Grief Series here

The Perpetual Grief Series

I’m not sharing about the concept of continual and on going grief to gain sympathy or pity. But to bring awareness to a state of being that some may have no concept about. My life is not continually sadness and depression. There are SO MANY AMAZING things…..starting with the 6 most amazing people that I love more than life itself.

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But, I am living this life that has been hard and there are aspects of grieving that I never seem to get beyond because certain situations are brought up again and again and again.

Parenting a child (or children) with special needs is an interesting endeavor. There is a certain loss of dreams and ideals that you come up against time and time again.

For many reasons, my 2 older boys – both of which have Autism, ADHD, Learning Disabilites and Anxiety, as well as Sensory Processing Disorder – have never done very well in group activities. Whether its the social aspect, or the inability to focus, the lack of verbal or written output, generalized fear and anxiety; or even the chaos, and sensory input from an organized activity.

We tried to put Jeremy in Karate, and Soccer when he was younger. The karate instructor was positive that he could whip Jeremy into shape…..and eventually asked us to leave when all Jeremy was interested in doing was spinning in circles while laying on the floor. The soccer league was specifically a no rules, just play league and we figured the lack of standing in lines waiting for your turn to do the drills would be amazing for him. We were excited to have him ask to be in net every week, until we realized that the ball almost never made it to the net and that he spent the majority of his time laying in the grass, looking up at the sky and rolling around. We attempted to put Josiah in a parkour class but after getting spoken to by the instructors because he wouldn’t stay in the lines and wait his turn, we removed him from that activity as well.

The only activity that has been somewhat tolerated has been swimming…..and I’m not surprised because my boys spend about 50% of their awake time in the the bath……It’s a sensory heaven…..the perfect temperature, perfect amount of pressure, they can float if they want, still play with lego, and can hide under the water and its so quiet.

Even so, we got notified by the swimming instructor, last week, that maybe Siah would benefit from private lessons as he struggles with listening to the teacher and following the rules. And I grieve….

I see parents all around me putting their kids in different activities and I grieve the loss of normality. I see parents sharing excitedly of how their child is excelling in this activity or that activity. Hear parents talk about how their child got a scholarship to this college or university and while I’m so happy for them and would never begrudge their child’s success…..

I grieve. I grieve because I celebrate differently.

I celebrate days when we have “only 3” meltdowns. I celebrate just getting my children to school……without tears is a banner day. I still haven’t been able to celebrate just dropping off my kindergarten-er and having him run inside happily. I celebrate days where the teacher hasn’t had to talk to me about an issue. I celebrate days where bedtime doesn’t take 3 hours from start to finish. I celebrate my children eating……something……anything……I celebrate when my child uses the bathroom without fear, tears and pain. I celebrate when we can find the “softy pants”.

But I grieve the loss of dreams…..the dream of normalcy…the thoughts and ideals I had of life looking a certain way. Of being able to put my son in soccer. Of having my kids involved in sports or an activity…..of having them excel at something.

And they do excel……just differently.

In the grand scheme of things, I’m raising my children to be kind, compassionate, understanding, aware…… and I think I’m succeeding. But that doesn’t mean that somewhere underneath it all, that a part of me doesn’t feel the loss…..

And I grieve……

The Perpetual Grief Series 

We’ve had a lot of hard moments, recently! 

This past Sunday, neither of my little boys wanted to go to their class at church.  I know that once they are settled, they enjoy themselves; but transitioning from being with mom and dad to being in their class has been so difficult.  Sunday was no exception.  We managed to get Judah settled – but he wasn’t happy about it.  And Jon took Siah up to his class.  He sent me the picture up above, saying that Siah was pretty pissed to be there and was refusing to join in.  He was just standing in the corner, glowering at everyone.  

He finally worked his way through whatever transitioning he needed to do and realized that he could “improve on” what they were doing for the craft. At that point, he quite happily joined in.

When I spoke with him later,  he mentioned that getting  a”list of what was going to happen” would help…………and that explained everything.  He was feeling anxious and out of control.  His need for security and comfort displayed itself as defiance and opposition.  But the reality was that he was scared and insecure.

I suggested that maybe the calm Josiah needed to write the nervous Josiah a letter so when he had forgotten how fun class was; I could give him the letter so that he could remind himself…….because even if you won’t trust me, you’ve got to trust yourself, right?

He giggled for a long time about that.  

But it breaks my heart to see him stressed beyond the ability to reason.  He is such a smart, capable child as long as he’s not in “fight or flight mode”.  Once he hits that…..basically we hold the course until he can come to a realization by himself.
And yet, the longer he stays in that space, the harder it is on him –  physically, mentally and emotionally – and I hate that.  

I grieve the loss of normalcy.  I grieve the loss of ease.  I was looking back at pictures from when I had only the older three kids and while life back then wasn’t easy….it was different.  It seemed simpler.  It wasn’t easy.  Jeremy wasn’t an easy kid but he as only 1 of 3 and at that point I had no idea of the world of pain I was headed into.
I grieve the loss of self.  I grieve the loss of competence and confident capability.  I grieve the loss of innocence.

I feel like a part of me is stuck in that dark space of grieving.  Like it’s been so long that grief has been touching me that it’s infused itself into me.  Not overwhelming, just subtly changing……..winding tiny bursts of sadness here and there. Not enough to overwhelm, but just enough to never forget………

  

At Peace With Myself

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It was a busy day today, full of little boys and big messes. That doesn’t typically allow me much space to process or think….

There were moments where I stopped and just took a breath, yesterday’s session weighing heavy on me, but not necessarily in a bad way………

I sat across from my counselor and had so many moments of insight into myself.

I made so many comments where something just “clicked”. It was such a bizarre moment in time. I’m trying desperately to remember it all because it seemed so…….sacred. It seemed like such a pivotal moment. Such an awareness…..of myself; an understanding of why I have thought the way I do. I don’t have answers as to why I felt so “bad” as a little girl. I don’t know that I ever will…..But I have to admit that I don’t ever remember feeling so disgusted with myself as I did during that session yesterday.

I’ve felt disappointed in myself. I’ve felt like I wasn’t good enough. I’ve felt like a fraud. I’ve felt like I had to try harder. I’ve felt ashamed….so ashamed…..and I didn’t know why.

I couldn’t figure out why I felt so “less than”….or “not good enough”…..or “unworthy”…..

Yesterday, I struggled with connecting with those feelings. It felt like I was aware of some inner pain, and yet I didn’t want to connect because it was too intense. I love how our brains work to protect ourselves so that we can carry on. Obviously, it would be better to deal with issues as they come up, but sometimes we can’t or just don’t know how to or even that we need to; and our bodies are created in such a way that it’s almost like our brains wrap a protective cocoon around the intensity of that moment to soften it so that we can carry on.

Imagine that you hurt your foot as a child and then wrapped it up tightly to keep it safe and from hurting, but then never took the tight bandages off as you grew up. You may have some discomfort, and your foot would even grow disfigured or maybe smaller and weaker than the other…..it didn’t need to be that way, but you didn’t know any better. You would grow older and know “how to walk”, but you might not be very good or very graceful at walking. In much the same way, emotionally….you may have areas that are weaker or stunted…or that never grow up in the same way that the rest of you grows up. You may have knowledge as an adult and be able to rationalize as an adult, but those wounded areas won’t be able to function as well as they could.

Sitting in my counselors office yesterday, I had the opportunity to connect with a part of myself and I didn’t want to. It was too strong, too intense and I was too scared. I felt like I was catching glimpses of it and these tiny moments of overwhelming feelings, and yet I found myself avoiding those feelings…using humor to escape the moment…..grounding myself in the present……and yet at the same time I was grasping to feel…..to be able to hold onto that moment because it felt like it was a key moment for me. I think it was….it is…..

I talked through that moment. I made statements that confused and astounded me because they were purely instinctual; and yet they tied my feelings perfectly into the person that I’ve become. They explained who I am now and why things are important to me. Things that I’ve not concretely thought through, made perfect sense. As I talked, I felt more, and more….and the depth of those feelings – well, lets just say that the only other time I remember feeling that intensely was when Nathaniel died. The grief was huge….like take your breath away huge. Like BLINDINGLY huge. Like you can’t possibly be in any more pain and still be alive, but you can’t possibly be dead because EVERY THING ACHES WITH SUCH INTENSITY!!!!

I’m sitting here on my couch with my laptop in my lap, still blown away at the intensity of those feelings from yesterday. I’m trying to wrap my head around how/what/why I would so intensely hate myself at such a young age. What could I have possibly done that I could have received that message? I’m very much aware that I most likely will never know and in the most surreal way possible, I’m mostly okay with that.

I sat there sensing this young girl, so filled with shame and disgust and my heart broke for her. My heart broke for me. My heart broke for any child who feels unloved and unaccepted; who feels like they are living just outside of what’s acceptable – and I guarantee that this is why….it’s because I felt like that as a child.

Inside of myself, I could see this young girl sitting on the floor hanging her head in shame. I scooped her up in my arms, and told her I loved her and that she was ok; and that she would grow up and find a man who would love her, unconditionally. They would have these amazing children who would have an incredible ability to love and accept others. That she would grow up to be loved and accepted by others…….and as I held her and spoke to her, she lifted up her head and looked up into me with amazement and wonder and I cradled her into myself.

It seems surreal. It sounds incredulous. It was both of those and more…….

What I know is that I feel more at peace than I have in a long time. I don’t feel like I’m in conflict with myself and that’s such a good thing. I’m not all fixed, or all better, or all done….but I’m in process and that’s such a good thing.

Assimilation……

I went to another counseling session this morning….and then I came home, ate lunch and crawled into bed until I had to pick up the boys from school.

I’m currently chatting with some friends on the Facebook messenger app….I’m having such a hard time focusing on this and yet, I want to be able to write it down because when I do…..I feel like I process through it and assimilate the info, so much better than when I kind of ignore it and carry on.

PhotoI feel like I’ve been fighting myself. On one hand, I think I’m good at certain things…..but on the other hand, I don’t really believe it. For example, I believe I am beautiful; but instead of just believing it and it being a non-factor…..I’m constantly needing to “be” perfect…even though I’m no where near perfect. It’s always something I’m reaching for or trying to attain. And if someone says anything to me….I honestly believe that they are just being nice…because somewhere inside of me, I don’t really believe I’m beautiful…..but I do….???

I think I can sing well, and yet…I don’t really believe it, because if I really was good, then wouldn’t I have actually “done” something with it. And yes, I can carry a tune, but so many are so much better than me, and I’m not really that good……..I’m just…adequate.

So, in counseling today, I managed to connect with a much younger me…from about when I was 6….and she quite honestly believes that shes bad……dirty and disgusting and bad…..and I don’t know why. She believes that if anyone really truly saw who she was that they would reject her……..and that just so much resonates with how I feel.

It’s weird. It’s weird to hear yourself say things like……I see these kids. These kids that others see as “bad” and I see beyond the “actions” and “issues” to the heart and soul of the kids and I see how special and amazing they are.

It’s so devastating to see that as a young girl, maybe 6, that I felt like if anyone saw the real me that they would reject me, because I was so bad.

I don’t know what happened to make me think that. I don’t know what would have given me that impression, all I know is that for the first time…..something makes sense…….its like something inside of me has held onto something horrid for 30+ years and I can finally recognize that it’s not the adult me feeling like this. Even saying this (or typing it) makes me feel crazy and yet…….it just feels so “right”. I said things today that totally make sense for the first time in 30+ years.

If there is a part of me that was traumatized by something and held onto that trauma and never quite grew up….it could easily be causing a disparity between what I know as an adult and what I felt as a child.

The feelings were so strong….at first I didn’t even want to connect with her.

I’m quite unsettled sharing this, and yet…..I want to. In some ways, if I share it, it becomes more real to me.

I find our minds to be so very, incredibly interesting.

Its so hard to switch from what we know as an adult to what we feel/felt as a child. And yet to recognize that what we felt/observed/experienced is still valid regardless of what the actuality is/was…..

For whatever reason, I felt like I was unworthy of love. I felt disgusting. I felt bad. I felt like, if anyone saw who I really was, then they would reject me. I felt like I had to continue to try to appear perfect, in order for people to accept me. I felt like failure was equivalent with rejection. I’ve continued to feel that in my experiences with people, all through out my life. It sucks.

In a lot of ways, it feels like I can’t trust myself. How do you merge these two “warring” sides of yourself? One side believes that you actually are a nice person worthy of love and acceptance; and at the same time, a part of me truly believes that I’m one slip/one step/one action away from being rejected because I’m so “bad”.

How is a 6 year old “bad”?

I can’t imagine looking at a young child and believing them to be truly evil.
I can’t imagine looking at my young children and rejecting them based on their actions.
I can’t imagine my children feeling so unacceptable and undesirable.

It just about destroys me to think that I felt like this….and yet…..I can’t remember not feeling like this and the feelings today were so intense……

It made me feel so sad for myself.

I hurt so incredibly much for the children that I see who are struggling. My own children, my nieces and nephews, our friends kids……..children at our local school….., at church….

So many of these, I’d venture to say ALL of these, kids just want to be loved and accepted, and they should be….in spite of any actions that people deem inappropriate….Sometimes, I just want to scream at the “adults”. I want to scream and rail at them, “can’t they see that these kids are trying their hardest?” They are doing the very best they can. Children want to do their best. If they are struggling, it’s probably because they don’t know what to do….and helping to teach them what to do (as opposed to focusing on what they are not to do), with love and compassion would go a whole lot further than getting angry with them.

It was a weird appointment, and I realize that I’m a bit all over the place….but it’s been a tough day.

I’m attempting to process through this. I’ll probably have more thoughts on it all, but at least I’ve started….

I’m trying to be ok with being in process….I like to start something and wrap it up and “finish” it…..but I think it needs to be ok to be “in process”….to be “working on things”….to not have to feel like if I don’t finish it right away that it’s useless or worthless….but to realize that I can start working on something and continue to work on it and that it’s ok to not be finished yet…..

hmmmm……..

In Process…….

I had a counseling appointment this morning. While driving there, I tried to “check in” with myself…..to see how I was doing. How I’d been feeling since my last appointment? Less Anxiety, More Anxiety…Whatever…and as I attempted to “connect”…I found myself shutting down.

Whatever I was trying to connect with or process seemed too great a task and it was as if a huge cement lid was slamming down on top of whatever I was trying to connect into…..I guess, myself…

There was a song on the radio that I liked and so rather than fight against myself…I sang along with the song until it was finished and then I tried again……

Quotation-Jeanette-Winterson-time-Meetville-Quotes-8822I knew I had thoughts and feelings and yet…as I reached inside myself…once again…I shut down.

By this point, I was mildly frustrated and so I tried again…and there was nothing. Brief lines from popular songs flashed through my mind, filling it with meaningless drivel;but I couldn’’ seem to grasp a hold of one concrete, valid thought.

I became aware that this is something I do…..often.

I have so much to think through and so much to deal with and it’s been SO LONG that I’ve been living in a state of heightened stress…at some point I shut down in an effort to not “break” and now it feels like this coping mechanism has crippled me.

It’s possible that my life experiences may also have “broken me”, were I to have fully embraced them all as they came……but I didn’t…

And now…….

I walked into the counselors office and sat down; and chatted about trivial things not pertaining to the matter at hand and then I brought it up.

“I shut down. Often. And I don’t like it.”

It’s kind of like the whole “building walls” analogy…..You get hurt by people, so you start to build walls to protect yourself; and eventually you end up alone inside your great castle, and that loneliness hurts even worse than the possibility of hurt from letting people in…..

I shut down emotionally because my experiences were too great a pain to bear.
I’ve experienced too many intensely hurtful things.
Shutting down has become instinctive and not a choice.
Now, anytime I attempt to work through something that feels the slightest bit “intense”, even if it would be a positive thing…..I shut down and cannot think straight enough to make sense out of any of it.

It’s frustrating.

It feels shameful because it’s something I “should” be able to do.

I laughed when I said that, because I know it’s a fault of mine…..this belief that I should be able to do anything and everything……that I should be in control at all times….that I should be capable to handle anything and everything that comes my way, with no signs of weakness…..How’s that for holding myself to impossible standards?

I feel angry because I don’t like feeling powerless and out of control.

It takes me back to the days that Nathaniel died and was born.

How do you process something like that? How do you carry a baby for 25 weeks; and plan and dream about and love the being that you are growing inside your very soul….how do you cope with having that piece of yourself taken from you? How do you walk away from your heart? How do you deny everything that your gut is saying to you to leave him when you know they will put his body into a cold freezer and yet you must just walk away and leave him there…..where no one loves him….where no once will or can care for him…..

You don’t….you shut down because those thoughts will destroy you…….

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My baby died. I can’t even fathom it, and yet I lived through it….I think those are the wrong words, though. I carried on. I kept on going. I shut down and gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. A little boy who was the perfect size for his age. A little boy that they could not find anything wrong with. There was no reason that we know of….he was not sick or broken. Just dead.

Even writing this I seem to flash in and out of these feelings of grief. Shut it down….feel……it’s too much….It’s TOO MUCH…..so many tears….so much sorrow held for so many years….He would have been 11 years old this year.

I held him for such a brief moment. I didn’t know what to do and neither, it seemed, did the hospital. I have so many regrets and so much anger inside.

Why didn’t they ask if our families would like to see him?
Why didn’t we call our families in? It would have been so much more real, then….
Why didn’t I hold him to my chest and sob as if my heart was broken into the million tiny shards that it was?
Why was I so scared that holding him was the wrong thing to do, just because he was dead?
Why didn’t the hospital walk us through more….better….with details….or information……or something?

I can’t have these “why’s” answered…..

I’ve existed, laying these “why’s” down because I knew there were no answers to my questions…..but what I have not realized was that in being “logical” I was dismissing or down playing the validity of my emotions…I was shutting down…..

It’s ok for me to be upset that my baby died.
It’s ok for me to be upset that my baby died without a reason.
It’s ok for me to be angry that we were not “helped” along more by the hospital.
It’s ok for me to feel sad that I didn’t hold Nathaniel and cuddle him as much as I would have liked to.
It’s ok that I feel shameful for not knowing what to do……How could I have known?
It’s ok that I feel so many “regrets” because I can never go back to that moment…..

I walked away from the hospital feeling more alone and broken than I had ever felt before in my life. I remember standing in the elevator wishing that I were dead. Wondering if I was, because it wasn’t possible to simultaneously hurt this bad and yet feel nothing.

I felt dead. But I knew because of how badly it hurt to even breathe, that I was so very alive and that I had kids to take care of and that life had to go on.

We came home to an empty, still house…..mirrored by my own emptiness. We walked upstairs to the main floor and I remember hugging Jon, and crying. I felt so helpless…..so out of control……and so desperate for another baby……a living baby.

When I think back to that time…..there are a few things that I remember “doing”…..I don’t remember “feeling” anything other than desperation for a baby to love, to hold, to fill the empty places inside of me……

Siah was born 3.5, very long, very loss-filled, very traumatizing, years later.

quote_resources-for-recovering-resilienceI don’t know how you make it through an experience like that without shutting down. Obviously….because I didn’t……..

Now how do I move forward….that is my question…….

I don’t want “shutting down” to be the first thing that I do when faced with…..life….

Because I want to “really live” with authenticity and transparency and passion; and not just exist……

Listing Heavily

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I have this skewed idea that unless I have something amazing to say or some point to make or something else incredible that it’s all a waste of time.

Which is ridiculous, given the number of times that I’ve come on here and just blathered away.

And basically, it’s what I’m about to do right now.

I’ve been thinking about “writing” all day today. I’ve been musing about “this” topic and “that” topic. Wondering about whether I should write another poem or share on a topic dear to me, or whether I pick a journal prompt and write about that.

I’ve basically been stalled and hung up on the fact that all my thoughts are stuck inside of my head. Which was sort of the point of me wanting to write MORE…….

So, here I am……last thing at night…..sitting in front of my computer…….struggling.

That seems to be the soundtrack of my life these days. Everything’s a struggle.

And I hate it.

I have this desire that people will see me. Will see my life. Will see how much I’m struggling and yet…

I want to be able to encourage. I want to be able to see the positive. I want to be able to share the light in dark situations. I want to find the positive amidst all the crap…..but it takes a whole lotta shoveling to be able to find those tiny bits of positivity.

I keep looking.

An intense situation arises and I want to sit down and cry; but I attempt to shift my focus to find a positive within the negative situation…..

And as much as that’s a good thing…..I think that what I’ve ended up doing, is not allowing myself to acknowledge the crap. It’s like I want people to validate how tough this “life” of mine is yet, I don’t think that I’m allowing myself to really absorb it all, to acknowledge or validate the fact that this is tough…..like really, really tough.

Now, I’m not talking about wallowing…..or maybe I am…..I don’t really know, yet…..But I think that there must be something to this…… to this idea that I feel overwhelmed and as soon as the emotions get overwhelming, I shut it all down.

Did you read what I wrote yesterday?

Breathe
Shut it down
Try again another day

Ya….that’s what I’m talking about……….I start to feel and then….I shut it all down.

But I know better….

Even that statement…..why am I belittling myself………I know that you can’t just shut the negative emotions down…when you shut down your emotions…you shut them all down – the good, the bad and the ugly.

And maybe that contributing to why I’m feeling a bit……blah…..these days. I’m not really excited about anything. I truly believe that just straight exhaustion plays a huge role….but how much of the whole happiness/sadness yo yo am I missing because I’m doing everything within my power to hold myself at an even keel, even thought this ship feels like she’s listing hard.

Would I feel better if I grieved hard for the the life I imagined?

A part of me is just so scared that if I allow myself to “let go” and truly feel – that my ship will capsize and sink (to continue with the ship analogy).

And that scares me more than anything…….

A Fairly Regular Week Around Here.

IMG_9079I have these brief moments of clarity. Unfortunately, they are clouded by the fog of chaos and exhaustion that is my life these days.

This past week has been particularly trying and yet, it’s really not any different than any other week around here.

Jeremy had an epic meltdown on Monday night….what that means is that he fought against everything we said and needed and asked him to do starting at 3:30pm. It exploded at 6:30pm, with him huddled in a sobbing, screaming ball on the kitchen floor, begging us to leave him alone and to not touch him. All of this while trying to get the two little boys through their evening chores and headed up to bed……which is it’s own gong show of happiness. We finally got Jer settled enough. He had a great chat with Jon and was able to clearly speak of what was going on for him. It’s just too bad that it took 3 hours of intense energy and chaos to get us to that place.

Tuesday morning (and most every morning) involved a great deal of wrangling to get Josiah to school. He has a lot of anxiety and getting him to school in the mornings involves a tremendous amount of creative thinking and fast talking to movitvate and challenge him to actually make it to school. Tuesday afternoon, I picked Siah up from school and took him, Judah and Xandra to our family Dr. Siah has a few warts on his hands and has been getting them frozen off. He had a massive anxiety attack thinking about getting them frozen off and ended up making himself sick in the waiting room of the Dr.s office. He puked 4 different times and managed to hit the garbage can for 2 of those…..the other 2 required a lot of paper towels and a fair amount of apologizing on my part. I finally promised him that we would just “show” the Dr his warts and that I wouldn’t make him get freezing. After that, he didn’t puke any more and miraculously recovered…..no more puking that evening and he ate well and had no issues. I HATE ANXIETY!!!!!

Wednesday was a quiet day…..I remember thinking how weird and bizarre it was to not have anything crazy going on. Jon did have to work on his second job that evening so I solo parented the bedtime routine and it’s just not as fun as it sounds like it could be.

Thursday was a crazy day. Last week I got a call on Tuesday asking if we could come in to the orthopedic clinic on Thursday for an appt with Dr. Pike – an orthopedic surgeon – who does both pediatric and regular orthopedic care. He specializes in arms, shoulders, wrists, hands……This is the surgeon who will follow Geli into adulthood. I couldn’t make the appt for last Thursday because all the appts are in the afternoon on Thursday’s. This means that I have to arrange pick up from school for Josiah and babysitting for Judah. Fortunately, my mom was able to come this week and watch Judah and pick up Siah. Before my mom got to my house, I managed to tidy the house, do the laundry, clean the kitchen, make a batch of chocolate chip cookies for an after school snack, put together a roast beef for my mom to throw in for dinner, and a quick note with pertinent details for my mom regarding that afternoon.

I was exhausted before even leaving the house. I remember thinking to myself,

“Why don’t I have any help?” That was quickly followed by,
“I try to do it all by myself so that I’m not a bother for anyone.” Which was followed up with,
“But I’m one breath away from breaking…..I can’t do all of this.” And then,
“Why do you try to do it all by yourself?”
“Because I don’t feel that I’m worth……….. bothering people.”

I had a lot more thoughts, but that one hit me pretty hard. I needed to leave for the hospital so we wouldn’t be late and so I filed that thought for later….

Angelica’s appointment was for 1pm and I was really hoping that we’d be quickly in an out before traffic started. There was a surgery that called the dr away just before he came to see us….which means that our quick appointment turned into a 2 hour affair. Which is not bad for “hospital time”.

The long and the short of that appointment, is that Angelica will definitely need surgery. If fact, her shoulder is bad enough that if she was in pain, they’d replace it now. The surgeon said it was “really ugly.” Once again, the comment we keep hearing is, “You’re not in any pain?” It looks bad enough that they expect she should be in a lot more pain than she is. We are so incredibly thankful that she is not in pain. And because she is not in pain, we can put off replacement surgery. She will most likely be looking at both a shoulder replacement and an elbow replacement but it could be a while, yet. This is great news and frustrating, at the same time. Geli has limited mobility in her shoulder and her elbow has a short range of motion. It doesn’t fully extend and won’t fully contract either. She has learned to compensate by reaching with her left arm if something is high above her or by using her right arm, if she needs to extend her arm straight out. It’s still awkward, but we choose to be thankful that she is alive and has both arms to be able to use. We are incredibly thankful that she is not in pain because living with constant physical pain is a horrible, horrible thing to have to do.

We finally headed home…..arriving just in time for me to pick up Jeremy and take him to a counseling appointment. He had his appointment from 5-6pm. I dropped him off, connected with his counselor about a few issues and insights from that week and headed back home to grab a bite to eat before I headed back to pick him up.

His counselor is so kind and thoughtful; and asked how I was doing. Truthfully, I don’t even want to answer that question because I am not doing well. I think I hit breaking point a long time ago and I’m desperately hanging onto the belief that this is a season and it, too, will pass…..I’m just very tired of existing. I’m very tired of all the issues. It’s been a very long time of chaos and conflict; and I’m not so sure I see it ending anytime soon. I gave her a pat answer….and then I answered truthfully and then I cried; then I pulled myself together and took Jeremy home to finish off the evening.

Friday morning brought it’s routine school related challenges although this time, it was Judah who decided to have a flip out. He did not want to go to “school”. He wanted to stay with me. He was clingy and whiney and so very unlike him. He typically fusses about not wanting to go to school…..I think mostly because that’s what Siah does and it must seem like that’s just what you are supposed to do in the mornings……but when we get to school, he goes in and is so happy to see his teachers and friends. He kisses and hugs me and heads off for the day without a second glance. He was SO UPSET. It took about 15 minutes to settle him and I was really confused about why he was doing this…..I even questioned just taking him home with me, because it was so very out of character for him.

Friday afternoon, I picked up Judah from preschool and then picked up Siah. Siah’s desk looks like a recycling bin. It is so full of random bits of paper, junk and garbage. I go in about once a month to scrape his desk out. I put all his pencils and crayons back into his pencil box and stack his duotangs and exercise books. I throw out all the garbage and collect the “treasures” to take them home. He struggles with the “messing with” of his treasures and would just rather live in the chaos – on the best of days – Friday was not one of the best days……..

He melted down in the classroom. Tears, yelling, crying, pleading…..he was anxious that if he brought the 500 origami creations home that they would get destroyed or lost or somehow messed up. He just wanted to leave them at school, but when your collection is shoe box sized and stuffed in your desk…..it just needs to come home. We finally managed to get his desk tidied; the creations in an actual shoe box and him out the door. The real fun started once we got in the van and he refused to put his seat belt on because he “HAD” to take the box of origami back into the school. He screamed at Judah for fussing at him. He screamed at me for everything. So much yelling and pleading; and zero grasp of the reality that it was not going to happen. It took 15 minutes. I have it on video. I’ve been recording “events” for when we go for his assessment at the end of February. It’s so much more than just a normal upset or frustration.

By the time I finally got him calmed down enough and we headed home, I was exhausted…done. We fed the kids frozen pizza (cooked, obviously) and sat and watched videos.

Saturday was the anniversary of Nathaniel’s birth and death and was just a low key – stay at home day. I’m ever so thankful that the kids held themselves mostly together.

This is not really an “out of the ordinary” week. Maybe the fact that I don’t have an actual “incident” to report for Wednesday or Saturday might make it memorable in a positive way….but it all feels less than positive.

And the biggest hit for me this week….bigger than Jeremy’s meltdown, bigger than Judah’s flip out, bigger than imminent surgery, bigger even than Josiah’s epic flipout…..is that fact that I don’t feel worthy.

I feel worth less…..

It’s a pretty crappy feeling.

Why?
Why do I feel like this?
Why do I see myself as worth less than others?
Why?

I don’t know…..but I think I need to figure that out.

My Journey with Food Addiction (part 1)

It’s said that knowledge is power and when it comes to food addiction and me, that saying is so true.

Here is a decent explanation of Food Addiction and how it relates to me…….(just click on the underlined words)

I’ve struggled with my weight for a really long time…..I’ve had issue with food for even longer. I remember sitting down as a child/preteen/teenager and pounding back cookies or chocolate bars or candy or to a lesser degree chips…..any kind of junk food specifically those with sugar and/or flour.

I’ve never really understood people who could take “just one”. As far back as I can remember, it was kind of an all or nothing deal. If I had a bag of M&M’s….I’d eat until they were gone…..and it was never the small bag – always the BIG ONES. I’d never just buy 1 chocolate bar…it was 3 or 4. I’d grab a handful of cookies and most likely head back for a second or third handful.

While I was a teenager, it never seemed that big of a deal because I was a tall, big framed person and weight wasn’t ever an issue for me.

I was 170lbs when I got married and definitely was not overweight by visual standards.

I still struggle because according to different standards like the BMI or other weight calculators, I was overweight based on my height vs weight ratio….but in no way was I overweight back then……I was thin, I modeled. I firmly believe those standards are flawed…

As far as my weight goes, I did ok until after I had my second child and then things started changing……I didn’t lose the weight as fast as I did after having Angelica. Literally, 10 days after having Geli, I was back in my pre-pregancy clothes and I could see my hip bones and everything. It was not the same after having Alexandra and from then on I began to actually “struggle” with my weight.

But this whole issue is about SO MUCH MORE than weight……and that’s where the “knowledge is power” aspect really comes into play for me.

I remember my sister telling me about a friend of hers who was eating a certain way and she briefly mentioned “food addiction” when she was telling me about this “way of eating”. I briefly looked into it but mostly because I was desperate to lose weight. I didn’t particularly “like” the food eating plan and so I dismissed it…..after all, I wasn’t an addict and I most certainly wasn’t addicted to food…I only had 10 pounds to lose and then I’d be happy……

I’ve spent a huge portion of the last 20 years dieting or eating according to a “food program”. I’ve eaten low carb, sugar free, fast metabolism, 3 day diet, and so many more gimmicky eating plans to try and lose weight. And while some of them worked for a bit, in the end……I’ve gained the weight back and felt more miserable and like a HUGE failure on top of it all.

I think that there have been 2 periods of time over the last almost 20 years where I’ve been close to a healthy weight. Neither lasted very long and between the different traumas and stresses in our lives, its been a brutal battle.

2014 has been an extremely difficult year for me and yet……..it’s been an amazing year.

We are exhausted.

And that’s putting it mildly.

Over the past 10 years, we’ve had numerous job changes and losses, a stillbirth, 2 second trimester losses, an early miscarriage, the long desired arrival of Josiah, a crazy long, difficult and exhausting journey to an Autism Diagnosis, children with special needs, cancer and the birth of our sweet Judah in the middle of it, serious Mental Health Issues, and 2 BIG house moves…..there is more that I’ve not accounted for, but that’s enough….it’s just too much. We are tapped out.

I feel like I’ve been fighting a battle for a long time. I have been…….. but what’s worse is that I really didn’t understand what or who I was fighting.

Earlier this year, I committed to 100 days of investing in myself. When I look back, I see that I was searching for answers and that I was close to finding them but just not quite there….

See, in the past, my focus has been for the quick fix….

– If I lose 10 pounds, I’ll be happier and then I can go back to doing whatever I want.

– Ok, realistically, I should lose 20 pounds, but that’s a lot and so difficult so if I eat no/low carb for a few weeks, I should loose a ton of weight, and then I’ll be happy and be able to do whatever I want.

– OK!!!! So I should probably be REALLY SERIOUS and just go for an entire month and hopefully lose more than 20 lbs and then I’ll be happy and can do whatever I want……….

It was all about losing the weight as fast as possible – which for me typically meant no sugar, no fruit, no carbs……just veggies and protein….and then something would happen and I’d “cheat”………. cause everyone deserves a cheat now and then, especially when you’re being SO GOOD. That cheat would typically turn into more than just a little treat and BAM…….soon I’d be stuffing my face with whatever I could find.

The “100 Days” challenge was difficult for me and yet amazing, when I look back on it. I’d decided that it needed to be more than a quick fix. I needed something longer term, because the quick fixes were not working. I needed a shift from “short term/quick fix” thinking to something that was more a “lifestyle/long term” plan.

So I started back in February….on Valentines Day to be exact…. my plan was no sugar, no gluten, low carb, only natural foods that I could eat in whole form or combine to make something. I’d started running in 2013 and planned on combining that exercise with my food eating plan to be able to lose weight and really get control of my life which felt so chaotic and out of control.

It started out pretty good. I started 2014 at 230 lbs…..

Towards the end of March, I was doing pretty good. I was down to 208 lbs. I’d run over 100 km in the month of March….and then I stalled.

March-April-May…nothing shifted and I was getting frustrated. I started eating things that were outside of my chosen allowable foods and my running slowed down and by the start of summer….I crashed. it probably didn’t help that I was anemic over the summer.

Summer of 2014 was an absolute out-of-control, gong show. I ate whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. I didn’t exercise. I felt lousy. I was trying to just survive. It was so bad, that even walking upstairs to my bedroom was a colossal effort and so once I came down stairs, I avoided going back up until I had too. Lotta couch time over the summer and anything I did do, came at a huge price as I’d crash the next day.

Every time I walk upstairs now, I flash back to how bad it was over the summer and I’m amazed at the difference from then till now. It’s pretty drastic. I went up on my anxiety meds and even added another one into the mix. There were days that I contemplated hospitalizing myself because I could not get the anxious thought under control and I’d spend the entire day fighting thoughts….crying…..it was pretty bad.

September’s are always like a new year for me….a new start……so I kept looking forward to September and the kids going back to school and routine and…….when it came…..everything was still brutally difficult and nothing changed except that I didn’t have the kids home all day…..I didn’t do anything. I couldn’t. I was so exhausted. Just existing was difficult….it was bad!

I went to give blood in September. I’ve been donating blood since I was 18 and while it’s not been as regular as I’d like and been broken up by pregnancy, breastfeeding, and different meds that I’ve been on….I could finally give and so I did….only to be denied because my hemoglobin was too low. While at the time I felt pretty embarrassed to be denied, that was the start of something amazing…….like the catalyst that kick started this next phase in my life.

I went to my dr and asked for some blood work. I started taking iron…..went and saw my naturopath, got a few supplements…… Finally towards the end of October, I started to feel a bit better.

I honestly cant remember why or how the whole concept of food addiction came to me but right at that same time, I started doing some serious research and reading about food addiction.

It was like my whole world exploded into tiny shards of hope and shame, exhilaration and denial…….