A Controversy Waiting for the Storm of Comments.

SO! while listening to frozen for the millionth time I was struck by the message about mental illness that appears moderately hidden. In the scene where Anna finally finds Elsa in the ice castle and they do the singing back and forth... think about whats happening; Elsa is having an anxiety attack/mental break down/depressive episode/whatever your mental illness is issue. She's been conditioned to be ashamed of her mental illness. So she's doing a lot of self-talk, and not at all listening to Anna. although she is very much aware of Anna's presence she is completely ignoring what Anna is saying/communicating. No really. Watch it. It's like Anna isn't even singing. Then there's Anna. confronting a mental illness she didn't know her sister had until recently. She has never faced a mental illness before. She has literally NO idea what she's doing, but she's attempting to tell Elsa that she is loved, and wanted, and most importantly not alone. She is literally walking towards Elsa with out stretched arms in an attempt to help. She WANTS to help. Her efforts are unrecognized, but she persists. the entire time using calming, loving language both physically and verbally. She gets struck by ice, the movie moves on. The thing that struck me was how often I have listened/watched this scene and thought "dude, if Elsa would just shut up she'd figure it out!".... but that's just it. In the throws of your mental illness you CAN'T just shut-up the self-talk and listen. Your brain is hardwired to NOT listen. There could be a bullhorn pressed against your ear at full volume, and you wouldn't be able to hear a thing being said. And that is in no way your fault. Let me repeat that; Not being able to hear those who love you tell you that very thing is NOT your fault. You're too tired to hear us, and we know that. We just want you to know that we're tired too. We're not giving up, we're just sitting with you... tired. It's exhausting for BOTH parties. It's exhausting to try and function with a mental illness. It's exhausting to NOT function with a mental illness. To be left physically unable to carry on the basic life sustaining functions. It is also exhausting to constantly be reaching out with love to someone who can't hear you. Some of us trying to help those who have mental illnesses are just as tired as you are. and we are not unaware. We're just not being listened to. No one is wrong, or at fault. It is the unfortunate nature of the beast that is mental illness. We recognize that fact and we still reach out. We're trying to help you. We want you to "come down the mountain TOGETHER..". We want you to take part in the world and society with us. It's why it's so important for more than one person to reach out if possible. Because eventually someone CAN drown out the self-talk. Olaf eventually was able to reach Elsa. It didn't change Anna's love for her sister, or how much she supported her, but it did make a difference in that it helped Elsa to stop and listen to Anna. We all just have to find that person who can drown out our self-talk so we can hear all the people trying to love us. I've seen a lot of those "what people with anxiety want you to know", or "what people with depression want you to know" posts on social media. Well let me give you another one. What people who DON'T have a mental illness want you to know: -We're aware you're suffering. You're not "yourself", and we know it. -When we say "it's ok", we don't mean that you're ok and you should stop having your illness. We're saying "it's ok to not be ok. I'm here for you no matter what."(yes, we suck with our words in the moment.) -We're kinda tired of the world assuming we're unaware that mental illness is a big deal, and a real issue. We know it is. We just don't have it, and have never had it, and will probably never experience it so we can't read your mind. Or body language. Or social disassociation. It's not within our power to logic that. If you don't tell us you have anxiety we have very little clue that standing at your front door with a surprise would cause you to have an anxiety attack. We thought it would be a fun surprise. -We love you. We want to love you. We want you to listen to us love you, instead of your negative self-talk. -we're not perfect either. We're going to make mistakes in dealing with you, and mental illness. (see above comment about not having it.). We're willing to keep trying, but you have to let us. You have to "shut-up and listen Elsa!", or none of our efforts will mean a thing. -We're tired too. And that's ok. Now don't think I'm all up on my high horse because I'm perfect. Far from it. I've got my own mental illness I'm dealing with, AND postpartum depression. These are thoughts that I have had while not in the throws of my illness. When I'm not being controlled by it, I have seen THIS. That those around me are trying SO hard to help me. I've just learned to tune them out, and tune the set-talk in. And of course none of these "what people with (fill in the blank) want you to know" posts cover the unique needs and reactions, etc of everyone. For all I know there are people out there who could care less about mental illness. Typically though, if you're living with mental illness ( I refuse to say suffering. It feeds the negative self-talk. I won't feed that monster.) those around you are trying to reach out and love you. They just need a little more direct coaching on how to help YOU. They need the directions on what helps you. Because lets be honest; mental illness is not a "one size fits all" thing. We all live with it differently, have different triggers, respond to different things. Be kind to those trying to reach you. Look for them. They're there. And they are tired too. Sit down, lean on each other, and rest together for a while. Then you'll both have the energy to stand and fight the beast together.

I AM the Storm

I have seen a lot of those MEMEs about the Devil whispering that you can't withstand the storm, and the person answers "I am the storm". I'm getting really tired of all that. What if I don't want to be "the storm'? What if I don't think the world NEEDS anymore "storms"? What if I'm the Calm inside the Storm? The world around us is exploding with aggression, and fight responses. When confronted with challenges people fight. When confronted with heartache people fight. Maybe I want to be calm. I want to take a deep breath, drop my shoulders, bow my head, and let it go. I want to resonate with such calmness that I break-up the fighting. I want to be so deeply embedded in the calm that it draws people into it. I want to watch the world settle from the Storm and join in the Calmness. I believe that it is perfectly acceptable to not be the Storm; whipping around wildly, and slashing at everything insight. It is acceptable to not fight back. It is acceptable to resign yourself to a season of less than "what you deserve" in life. It is ok to not be ok. In our whirlwind of a busy world, and all the blogs, advice books, motivational speakers, and the like telling us it's ok to not be busy; we seem to not actually understand how that works. We still feel this draw to the Storm. Well, I've resigned from the Storm. I may not practice "peaceful parenting" ( yes, I yell at my kids when I've repeated myself 12 times), but I see no need to be busy. We have more days of lazy play at home than we have of playdates, and classes, and errands, and extra. We spend more time at home playing together. We know every nook of our house. Yet I find that most people are borderline appalled when they learn that I don't do all the stuff the world expects me to. Part of me worries and stresses out about it. Sometimes I wonder if my children will be upset that we didn't take professional photo's for their first birthday. I ponder their disappointment when they get married and their spouse has a million professional baby photo's from when they were first born, and all I've got for them are pictures I took with my iPhone in the hospital of them screaming at the fact that the nurse just took them from my womb and laid them on my chest. How dare She! I don't have milestone photo shoots with fancy chalkboards, or celebratory cakes, or even stickers I printed off Pinterest. I reflect on the lack of big fancy over-the-top parties for EVERY birthday. You get a bid deal on your 1st, maybe your 8th, but I am NOT that Mom. I've contemplated how much they'll feel like I stole something from them because I didn't do very many of the "trendy" things moms do. So this is Me, signing off. I REFUSE to be the Storm. I will not partake in the crazy. I will deny myself, and by association my Family, the chaos of the Storm of trendy new things that make us "busy". This is Me, take a step back. This is Me, breathing deeply. This is me, bowing my head and closing my eyes. This is Me, letting it all go. This is Me, being the Calm in the midst of the Storm. This is Me, inviting others to join me. This is Me, giving space for those who need to escape the Storm. This is Me, stepping into my comfort zone and learning to invite others inside. This is Me, taking back control over the peace I feel. This is Me, looking the Devil straight in the face and instead of telling him I can match him at his own game, saying; That's ok. I am the Calm that brings others out of the Storm. I am the friendly face, the kind gesture, the smile, the breath of fresh air, the support. I don't need to withstand the Storm, for I do not reside in it.

Drive-ins, Swimming, and All Things Summer

I'm not an easy person to like. I say that a lot. Most people see that as fishing for a compliment. I say it with the self realized evidence of the past several years. The one thing my Husband has admitted about first meeting me? He didn't really like me. He thought I was a "know-it-all". Most of the friends I have that stuck through the awkward stage? They'll say it took some time to "warm up" to the idea of being my friend. Most people will confess to me that they weren't certain about whether or not they could deal with me when we first met. . . Let that sink in for just a moment. Imagine being told for the better part of your late 20's early 30's that you are not the ideal, personable human being people befriend. Imagine being told regularly that you're "difficult" to enjoy. Now think about how that sits on the psyche. There's a good reason I don't reach out to people. There's a reason I don't go out of my way to go places, or throw parties, or even attend parties. Several reasons actually. The big ones come from what happened to me in my early 20's. The "little" ones come from the fact that I can't even get my own family to enjoy me, let alone strangers; so I just stay home. My children are difficult to like as well. Mostly because we spend so little time with people outside our own home. It's difficult to have play dates when no one wants to sit and talk to you as the adult. I stopped pretending I understand people in the middle of what was going on with me before. I stopped paying attention to whether people mattered when the Major was selling me as a commodity. It makes me difficult to like. I don't understand the purpose of small talk. I don't really care about gossip. I'm not all that interested in fashion, and the latest craze ( which should be evident by my inability to dress myself.), I don't know how to not be awkward. Awkward is kind of my default setting. I am out of place in the world. I don't fit in. I do better when I keep my mouth shut, but I end up dying a little inside because no one really knows who I am. I get an uncouth exuberance when a subject I know about is brought up. I feel personally insulted when people won't let me help them; because it happens so rarely that I can be useful. I feel a great deal of pain at the fact that my children are the wierdos because I can't make enough friends with children their age for them to have playmates. My heart breaks when they desperately want to play with someone, and I have made that impossible. There is a silent amount of guilt killing me because I am difficult to like. Yet if I pretend, and become likable, I also die a little inside. So, Parenting catch 22. Do you die inside because your children are lonely and unlike, or do you die inside because you're faking it? Maybe someday I will know the answer, and my children will forgive me for failing them in this area. Maybe.

Hot Chai and Chocolate Croissants

I've spent a good portion if my life trying to make a name for myself. Which has always really bothered me. I have a name. My mother gave it to me at birth. It's written on a certificate that's got a Washington state seal on it. So why do I care how people use that name? Why do I feel like that name is not name enough? And why, instead of declaring that we want a reputation for ourselves, do we request the option of "making a name for ourselves"? What's the difference in the long term if no one remembers you? Why does the idea of flying through life on someone else's coat tails unacceptable? What makes someone who is a "self-made man" so much better than the man who wisely used a predecessors reputation? I pose this as the argument in favor of the self made man. Do you know your place? I don't. I've never belonged. My family said I was weird. My friends left me and did mean things to me because my brother died. My church peers couldn't stand me because I was "the teachers pet"( actually I just paid attention). My boss thinks I'm expendable and totally replaceable. My teachers found me overly inquisitive and annoyingly curious. My co-workers see me as a know-it-all who is better left alone. My in-laws.... Well, we already know that they find me less than amazing, and we all LOVE being compared to the ex-girlfriend. So where do I belong? Where is my island of misfit toys to call home? What's my place in life? Will I ever find a niché? What is the purpose of me being here on this earth?! See. . . It's hard to not have a name. To not know your place. Some of us have been so long without a place that we'll accept any that is given. I spent 6 years in an emotionally and physically abusive relationship because it was a place. If I was there than my name, my place was his punching bag. It wasn't a nice home, but it was mine. It wasn't the right one, but it was mine. I've seen more than one person walk away from what they COULD have become because they couldn't get anyone to reassign their place. Sometimes we have the fight within us to be great. We don't have the permission to belong. There is such a sense of loss, of chaos, of utter and total despair! You have nothing. No home, no name, no place, no label, no direction, no end, no beginning. There is nothing in your life that will feel like it fits. It's like walking around in someone else's skin; Only you can't give it back, or exchange it, or even grow into it, or ever fit! you change, and it just changes too! NEVER fitting properly.All in all it is one of the most annoying situations to be in. You never stop feeling depressed, or hurt. You always feel lonely. People accuse you of being short, curt, sassy, or withdrawn. They tell you that if you'd just "try and be more friendly. get to know people" it would be better. Problem is that there's nothing about you to get to know. You have nothing to offer because you don't, by social definitions, exist. You are not His ex-girlfriend, and you never will be. You're not the pretty smiling dutifully graceful woman she is. You wouldn't know how to be that passive if you tried. And it's not like you're intentionally trying to confront people, you're simply being honest. You're doing your best to make sure that you are clear, direct, and concise as possible. To avoid the long awkward conversation they don't really want to be having with you anyway. It always backfires. And reality sets in... you will never have a home. So how do you deal with people like that? I'd be grateful for a place. A role in life in which I can be the best at whatever it is I'm supposed to be good at. Sometimes, simply having someone look at me and accept the truth as it leaves my lips is wonderful. Being able to simply give you the best description I happen to have is relieving. It's also nice when people dont take it so personally. So my life is no fairy tale. Accept that my reality is far more harsh than yours, but that I have come from a very dark place to the bright light of day through a LONG arduous journey that, despite almost killing me, has left me with both a very literal view as well as a fantastical one. Not an excuse, just an explanation. I just get really tired of not belonging anywhere. I just want to find my home and not have to leave. Not have to be judged, or explain myself. I just want to be loved, and appreciated for what I have to offer. To have someone acknowledge the value in what I'm doing, or saying. To know that the hard work I do day in and day out means something to the world. That it hasn't all been for naught. But isn't that what we all want?

Hello My Lovelies

So, it's been a while. A long while. As I sit here thinking about everything that's happened I wonder what it is that makes some people tick. I wonder why some people make the choices they do. For example, A good manager can either make or break the team. They motivate the staff to be better than they used to be. They may not be the best with the paperwork, but they keep everyone excited to be at work. Not bouncing off the wall but satisfied. They want to come to work each day because they genuinely believe that their manager cares about them as an individual. Not just the numbers on the quarterly statement, but the individual. That having been said, some people choose the paperwork over the employee. I have learned that this is not a good choice if you intend to hang onto your employees and you are in a high turn over market ( i.e. massage therapy). I am also wondering why my dog still loves me. I am probably one of the laziest human beings out there. How I have managed to stay under 300lbs can only be explained by the fact that my metabolism has not been affected by child birth. My dog clearly would like me to move more than I do. That's not really happening. Yet here she sits, next to me on the couch. Patiently waiting for me to get the motivation to move. I pet her, scratch her, love on her, but I know she wants to run. Again, what posseses her to love me inspite of my clear lack of consideration for her breed's need to run. I tell myself shes just too old to run away. I know my brother would laugh and correct me. Which is probably why we've never discussed this.
I have accepted that it's time to start a private practice. I love not having to deal with paperwork, but I'm at this cross road where if I don't jump now I know that I will be pushed off this ledge by the Powers That Be. I've had several things upset and uproot my routine as of late. I was given a calling in my church, and I've been given the opportunity to share what I have learned with my fellow single adults. I had a relationship fall apart after doing everything concievable to make it work. I have lost family dear and close. I have lost friends, and I have some how managed to gain 10lbs. . . Yes I'm going to blame my brother-in-law who happens to be a chef. Cruse him and his holiday cooking which is so scrumptious! Point being here we go. Into the wild blue yonder. . .
You would think that I would learn after all these years that the best way to make a decision is not to look at why other people make that choice, but why would I make that choice. Good luck with that. (Makaio is looking at me like she's annoyed and might try to eat me.)Try as I might I am still looking for reasons to do things. I feel like my compass has never really had a North. When everyone else has awesome motivations for getting in shape, or to get that degree, or to date that human being, or to join that cause, or to do anything. I am not motivated to do ANYthing. I don't care what it is. Just tell me what to do so I can finish it up. ( She finally stopped staring at me. . . I think she's pissed.) I think I've actually given up on a lot of the things I wanted as a younger person. The family, the house, the husband, the lack of stress, done. There's a lot of stuff I thought I could still get, but at some point you just have to accept that regardless of how much you want that it's not meant to be yours.
We talk about Abrahamic sacrifices as a moment in time. Perhaps mine is not just a moment, but an entire life. Talk about a hard pill to swallow eh? better get those gag reflexes under control for this one.
( ok, I better at least give Makaio a massage. She's earned it.)

Bottom Line Up Front? I'm starting a Private Practice.
Be awesome my Lovelies. ( and Jack if you're reading this you owe me an email dude.you're lazier than I am in that area.)

Reinventing the Wheel

I suppose this has been coming for a while. The pent up emotions and feelings that make it almost impossible to function in reality. Keeping this many intense things to yourself makes you a little crazy. At this point there isn’t anything to do but go home. The desire for someplace to put these items permanently is not just a desire it’s a necessity. I can not be here again. I can not spend time giving these devotions to someone and not have it work out. Stress is killing me. Unrequited everything! I am tired of fighting, and I am tired of losing the battles. I can fight no more. My trepidation at laying down my swords comes with the highest of prices. I can not find words to express the deepest sorrow I am faced with, yet as it stands it must be done. The refiners fire is intense and almost painful. I feel like I say it too much, but this can not happen again. I really feel like it’s going to stick this time. Things I wanted to do every other time before don’t seem as exciting. Instead of just going through the motions of the process hoping for a break, or waiting for something magical to happen I’m giving it up. I’m actually considering giving control to someone else. I am scared and terrified and unsure. I am holding my breathe in anxious anticipation of the worst. I have spent years believing that I was a creature of the underworld. Here I stand, judged, weighed in the balance and looking to make amends. Knowing that giving this to my Father is going to be the toughest thing I’ve ever done I can only imagine the affects that will eventually enact upon this stage of life. Honestly terrified doesn’t even begin to express the anxiety that overwhelms me. Trusting this to end well and not trying to act on things myself is never my M.O. This will either kill me or make me. The craziest part is the peace. It’s like standing in the eye of the hurricane. I am watching the winds whip violently around me. I am watching the lightening and the rain, and I am listening to the wind howl around me. I can hear it telling me I wont make it. I can hear it taking everything I love and hold dear away. Yet here in the center everything is calm. It all seems quiet. I can see and hear it all out there, but it doesn’t change this place I presently am. Hoping that this power of peace will follow me through the storm I am about to enter I can only hope my sanity, and my love will be there in the end. I do this for me. Because failure is not an option. I MUST be prepared to meet my God. I can not lose this Love. For me.