Hard Days

Write 31 Days Day #11

Some days are harder than others.

Today has been a hard one and I can't tell you why. I've struggled all day to come up with something meaningful to share in this space. It's a day like any other. I've done the usual things, but there have been more dark images and thoughts today. 

That's the way it is with survival. And every time I write something like that, I am reminded that is the way it is with life. I'm really no different from anyone else on this big blue ball. We all have good days and bad days. Ups and downs. Highs and lows.

It's not about having the bad days. It's about how I handle them. Today I did okay. I got some things accomplished that needed taking care of. I talked with a few people. I ate pretty well and did some stretching. And I spent a lot of time snuggling with Millie.

Have you met Millie, yet? No? Well, here she is!

She's part chihuahua and part feist. She's probably about 12 years old. I got her through a rescue program back in the spring. She's my spoiled sweetie who likes nothing better than snoozing in the big comfy chair most days.

We napped together today and I was kind to myself about the hard time I was having. I call that a win.

Blessings!

Sunday Musings

It is Sunday morning and I'm sitting at my kitchen table with my computer and a mug of Cranberry Blood Orange tea.

I overslept so I won't be making it to worship this morning, but that's really just a convenient excuse. I'm struggling this morning with all the changes in my life. I want to pour it all out here on my blog, but there are issues with that. I want to be writing every day, but I don't like feeling constrained by the need to be vague. But I'm not comfortable baring my soul just yet.

So I sit here typing vague and random words and phrases because I believe that if I can't explain why I'm feeling this way, then my feelings are invalid. I need to explain why I feel these things so that everyone will understand and agree that my feelings are appropriate.

Convoluted? I suppose, but it's how my brain has worked for so long that it's more automatic than rationally thought through. 

I like my new place, but there's still a lot of work to be done. I worry that I'm being by judged by those around me for not having gotten more done. For wasting time that could be used to get things in order so I can "get on" with my life. I make lists and start out well, but as the day wears on I run out of emotional steam to get things done. I begin to wonder, "What's the point?" and "Who am I doing this for?"

I know the "right" answer is I'm doing for myself. So I can have a comforting, inviting place to call to home, but I've never been very good at doing things for myself. When I have been able to, it often leads to guilty feelings that I am just a self-centered person. 

Understand I'm not looking for pity here, but I am trying to work through some feelings and coping skills that I know aren't in my best interest. But I'm tired of working so hard. I'm tired of feeling as if I may be a burden to those around me. I'm tired of being needy. I crave normalcy, but I don't even know what normal is going to look like now. 

I have no answers except the repetition of phrases I've been using for years to deal with the lasting effects of abuse -- be kind to yourself, rest, eat as well as you can, get some exercise to help with anxiety and depression. 

As this day progresses I will do those things to the best of my ability with the knowledge that, even though I believe at times I am the only one struggling with these things, the reality is I am not alone. Hopefully by sharing my struggles I can help someone else who's feeling the same things I feel today.

Blessings.

Notice

Every year it sneaks up on me. Every year I promise myself I'll do a better job. Every year it happens again.

Pre-holiday depression. It's not like it used to be. I can get up and get moving, but there is less order and little joy in the things I'm doing. Then come the recriminations. The negative self-talk. Listing my failures. Berating myself for not being HAPPY, HAPPY, HAPPY all the time.

This year I caught it a bit earlier. This year I acknowledged it, and called it what it is. This year I said, "I remember who I was when walked into your office all those years ago, and I have come so far. I am so much better." I took credit for the growth and healing of the past years.

Yesterday I wrote about taking care of myself. I made a list and put it out in the blog-o-sphere for a bit of accountability. I can preach it all really well, but putting it into practice can be very difficult. 

This year I noticed much earlier, and I've made a plan. Maybe with a plan I can notice other things this holiday season, and in the noticing find a bit a more joy.


linking up with Five Minute Friday

It's the most wonderful time of the year . . .

But is it really? Let's be clear I enjoy the holidays. I especially like Thanksgiving because it's all about being appreciative and grateful for our families, friends, homes, and food. We actually have one day each year set aside to stop and really think about how blessed we are. And there is FABULOUS stuff to eat!

But, but. The holidays bring out a lot of other feelings besides gratitude. A lot of those other feelings are the result of societal expectations, but others are experiential. The commercials tells us to feel one way, but our memories remind us of past holidays and how we felt let down.

I'm attempting to write something with depth and meaning and the reality is I'm depressed. Not as depressed as I was a few days ago, but I know it will be a see-saw from now until after the new year. Because it's hard not to feel bummed when my holidays won't look like the TV commercials, and I'll be reminded of family dissension. Reminded of family I don't interact with (by my own choosing and for my own good), but I miss the idea of a family filled holiday.

I have this little voice in my head that reminds me over and over again that it's all my fault that I don't have a TV family. It's all my fault that I'm not over the top happy for 2 straight months of the year. It's all my fault that I'm tired and headachy, and would rather sleep and watch TV than decorate my house, bake cookies, and shop. So I wind up feeling like the Grinch. And I'm not the Grinch. I'm a basically happy, upbeat person. Yes, parts of the holidays are difficult because they aren't the way I want them to be. But I have family and friends that I share the holidays with -- I am not alone. I have more stuff than I will ever be able to appreciate, let alone use. 

I sat in my therapist's office on Tuesday and felt relief wash over me as tears squeezed from my eyes. She reminded me that PTSD from childhood abuse is one of the most difficult diagnoses to deal with, because these traumatic events happened during my formative years. In my case throughout my formative years. The negative patterns are imprinted on me. It's not that I am unwilling to let go of the past, but rather that it is imprinted on my brain. So, yes, it's going to crop up. There are going to be triggers. Getting over it doesn't mean it didn't happen. Just like getting over the flu doesn't mean you don't remember how sick you felt when you had it. 

I read a quote this morning -- 

“If you believe you deserve nurturing only when you’re extremely upset, you’re like the majority of survivors who feel they have to be totally falling apart before they slow down and take care of themselves. But taking care of yourself should not be confined to times of crisis. Nurturing and taking care of your needs should become a daily habit, not something special to be pulled out in an emergency.” The Courage to Heal Workbook by Laura Davis

and it reminded me to take care of me. So that's what I'm doing. I drinking lots of water, paying attention to what I eat (but not too much!), resting when I'm tired, getting some exercise, doing yoga, seeing the chiropractor, talking with my therapist, and planning some fun things just for me. 

When I dream about the episodes of abuse, it is as if I am reliving them. The key is to remind myself when I awaken that I didn't cause the dreams to come anymore than I caused the abuse to happen. I'm learning to see the return of the dreams as my subconscious telling me to slow down and take care of me. It's not my fault, but I can do some things to help myself.

With those ideas in my head (and in writing) I can enjoy lots of things and people and food this holiday season, hopefully release some those expectations, and just be in the moments to come. 


linking up with Just Write

Say

I'm depressed. I say it again, and it tears another little hole in my soul. But if I don't say it out loud then I'm doomed to stay stuck.

I say it to my husband when he asks how I'm doing. I'm not proud to be saying it again, but he is kind and generous.

I say it to my therapist. She reminds to not worry about the why, instead think about things to do that help. She understands my panic and fear. The terror that I am losing ground -- going back to the dark place I lived in for so long. She offers me hope and a plan.

I say it to my best friend. She offers sympathy, but doesn't dwell on the depression. She offers distractions and fun and relaxation in the realization that she loves me even when I'm depressed, but doesn't feel any need to fix me.

I say I'm depressed and it's not as bad anymore. 

linking up with 31 Days of Writing and Five Minute Free Writes

Depression, Angst, and Beaches

It's Monday, which is supposed to be "Made by You Monday" and I've got nothing. No creative meals. No crochet. No sewing. 

What I do have is a pretty bad case of the blahs. I've been struggling since right before Memorial Day. I went back and looked at older journals. I do see a pattern of deep depression in the late spring and early summer. Maybe it is just that it's been a good, long while since I felt this way, but I'm really having trouble with this round.

Tomorrow will be an anniversary of sorts. Not a good anniversary, but a really bad one. It will have been 31 years since the rape I survived in college. I don't know if that is the primary driving factor in this round of depression, but I keep thinking if I can just get through tomorrow things will begin looking up. But that little voice in my head says, "What if they don't?" And I look at that number -- 31 -- and that little voice says, "That was a long time ago. Let it go." (with apologies to the "Frozen" fans -- but that song has just about done me in!)

As I've said before, traumatic events such as rape and sexual abuse -- abuse of any kind -- leave deep, lasting scars. I don't choose to be depressed. I feel guilty for having these feelings. I know how good my life is now. I know the blessings in my life. I know that so many people are suffering right now, and I'm not. And yet, none of that knowledge seems to knock out the depression.

I can give some rational explanations for the depression and its annual visit -- most of the abuse occurred in the summer; that rape in college caused a lasting rift in close relationships that lingers to this day impacting daily choices and conversations; there are a lot of things that I'll simply never have answers to about all of the abuse. But the fact is rational doesn't do much good against recurring depression. Sometimes I just feel really stupid and slow that I have to keep reminding myself that I'm not a bad person . . . bad things were done to me. I feel as if everyone else looks at me and thinks, "Sheesh, is she still struggling with that?!" 

So once more I make a plan. I write out a doable to-do list. I drink hot tea and listen to music. I wait for my best friend to get here and help me implement my list. I think about the upcoming trip dh and I have planned. And I try really hard to be happy instead of depressed. 

But here's the funny thing. I went and Googled "depression quotes" and as I read through them, they made me mad. All that angst and whining. And I do feel better for having read those silly quotes, maybe because they got me out of my own head for a little while, and maybe because I realize I'm not the only one in this struggle. All those perfect people out there probably aren't as perfect as I think they are. 

So here's to summertime blues and the need to feel my way through them to get to the other side. I'm pretty sure that's why God gave me beaches!

Spirit and Flesh

It is a beautiful, sunny day. We haven't seen much of the sun lately, so it's a pleasant sight. It should make me blissfully happy. It's nice, don't get me wrong, but I'm tired and I'm sad and I'm down in the dumps. Truthfully I been feeling this way for a while now. I've blamed the weather. I've tried to explain it away. I've tried to find a specific reason. I've tried to force the feelings to go away. None of that is working.

The phrase that came to me this morning was "the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak". And I wonder, is my spirit truly willing to move through this funk . . . again? Thankfully, I believe the answer is yes. I just wonder what I keep doing wrong to have these recurring blahs, blues, funks, dumps -- whatever you want to call them. 

But there is a lesson in everything I experience. Sometimes it takes a long time to understand that lesson. There is something to be learned from this time -- this place -- these feelings. And anything that turns me closer to God is a blessing.

I square my shoulders. I look these feelings in the eye. And I say, "I am willing."

linking up with Five Minute Friday

Cynicism and Expectation

Yesterday was crafting day with my best friend. We get together on Tuesdays to work on projects, encourage each other, talk, and do yoga. Yesterday was mostly encouragement and yoga. 

It's the holidays, and as hard as I try I can't seem to avoid a downward turn in my mood. Just as everyone else seems to be gearing up into super happy mode, I'm turning into a sleeping hermit.

I want to be excited and upbeat. Energized by the carols and decorations, but mostly I just wonder why I'm not. There are a lot of things that feed into the holiday slump. This year is our first Christmas without my father in law. We always went to his house on Christmas morning, and he LOVED watching the kids open presents. There is a changing of the guard this year.

We don't see my family at Christmas. Too many difficult memories and associations, not to mention hurt feelings. It's a choice I made, but it hurts nonetheless. I want something I can't have. Expectations can be hard to release.

I'm trying something new this year. I wrote about it a little bit on Monday. And I'm following The Nourished Home as she leads us From Hectic to Harmonious. Yesterday's focus was "How do I want to feel this season?" Here's what I came up with --

1. peaceful (full of peace) 

2. content (not needing anything or any competition) 

3. at ease (comfortable with how MY holidays play out) 

4. I want to feel God's presence in this time of celebration 

5. grateful (letting go of worries, and be thankful for all that I have)

I'm taking my expectations down a notch, and I'm choosing to be a little cynical about what I see on Pinterest and social media, reminding myself that those are wishes and highlight reels. 

And I'm focusing on Advent. The season of waiting. Lighting my candles and enjoying the warmth from the glow that remind me it is worth the wait.

linking up with imperfect prose

again

it rolls over me like a wave, this lethargy.
it shocks me with its intensity, this anxiety.
how can they both exist simultaneously? how can i be exhausted and innervated at one time?
"you are strong, courageous, brave, and spiritual. you are suffering." 
can one person be all those things at one time?
he says, "pray without ceasing. just keep praying."
she says, "breathe. keep doing the relaxation breathing."
how do i accomplish the myriad of other responsibilities when expending all this energy just remembering to breathe?

abuse is incessant. it never really ceases. it simply changes format.

linking up with Five Minute Friday

Day(s) 28 and 29

We spent the weekend at Pickett State Park with Alan's side of the family. I mentioned before this has been a tradition for years. What I didn't mention, is that this year I wasn't really looking forward to it. I've been having a round of depression and pain lately which makes me want to curl up and do as little as possible (all the while feeling very guilty).
Saturday morning Alan and I packed up and headed up to the park. We made our annual stop at Walmart for supplies for dinner and breakfast, and then drove on into the park.
Our son and his best friend were already there so they helped us unload the car and brought us up to speed on event thus far (the rest of the family had arrived on Friday evening). 
We spent our time doing a lot of relaxing and talking, and not much hiking as it was very wet and rainy. I made a big pot of spaghetti, a tossed salad, and cheesy bread for dinner for everyone, and we rounded it out with roasted marshmallows, pumpkin bread, cookies, and homemade granola.
Sunday morning part of the group got up and took a walk in the misty rain while I started cooking breakfast. That's a tradition as well. Homemade pancakes, bacon, and omelets with juice, coffee, tea, and hot chocolate. There were 10 of us this weekend. That's A LOT of pancakes -- especially when there are special orders involved, i.e., plain, pecan, and/or chocolate chip. Eventually I had to grab a single pancake and one slice of bacon for myself! Everybody ate and talked and laughed and generally enjoyed themselves from the 4 year old to the nearly 80 year old.

After breakfast, my father-in-law came over to where I was washing up the dishes and gave me a big hug. He said, "I wasn't feeling well this morning, but the walk up the hill and all this wonderful food has made me really glad I came." I kissed him and told him the love and affection went a long way as well.
And suddenly I was glad I had come too. Isolation is not good for the soul. And suffering in silence doesn't do any of us any good -- whether it's from pulmonary fibrosis or depression.
So today I'll unpack and clean house and listen to some happy music. I'll do my Bible study and crochet a little. But mostly I think I'll remember that hug from my father in law.

The Simple Woman's Daybook

FOR TODAY . . . October 23, 2012

Outside my window . . . I see sugar maples turning orange and gold against a robin's egg blue sky. We are having a little "Indian summer" around with temps headed into the 80's today.

I am thinking . . . that going back to yoga last night was good, but my side is definitely noticing it this morning. Maybe I'll settle for a walk today.

I am thankful . . . to have a home. I think about all the homeless people this time of year. Each day must bring anxiety as the weather shifts to cold.

In the kitchen . . . dd made whole wheat/rice flour sourdough bread yesterday. Quite tasty!

I am wearing . . . a big t-shirt and my summer weight robe while I have my first cuppa this morning.

I am creating . . . still working on the afghan, but I started a scarf for a Christmas present last night.

I am going . . . to the dentist and to run a few errands. I'm wondering about early voting, but I here the lines have been awful, which I suppose is a good thing!

I am wondering . . . about trauma. The word covers the gamut of experiences. I am always telling people not to compare their trauma to someone else's, but I have a really difficult time with that myself. We had a speaker Sunday who talked about his experience of recovery after being hit by semi-truck, and I found myself thinking, "his experience is worse than mine". But based on what criteria? Trauma is trauma.

I am reading . . . A Murder of Crows by Jan Dunlap. Almost done. Not a great read, but relaxing, like a British cozy mystery.

I am looking forward to . . . our trip in December. Dh made the reservations, so it looks as if it will really happen : )

I am hearing . . . the dogs wandering around. They check out every nook and corner of the house after breakfast each morning before settling in for their morning naps.

Around the house . . . the usual picking up, and I need to finish up the laundry from yesterday. 

I am pondering . . . depression, and the way it comes and goes, plus how responsible I feel when I'm having a hard time. Trying to shake the responsibility aspect and place it firmly back in the abusers' court.

One of my favorite things . . . is sitting at my desk in the mornings watching the people in my neighborhood taking walks and getting ready for what their day will bring. Sometimes I feel a little like Alice Kravitz!

A few plans for the rest of the week . . . trying to get back to a routine with my Bible study (man I am SOOOO behind!), some beading and crocheting, and then dh and I are headed to Pickett Park on Saturday.

Here is a picture for thought I am sharing . . . 

new project

for more visit The Simple Woman's Daybook

imperfect prose on Thursdays -- ferries and excavating

I wrote this post:

We are on a ferry
This is the momma I wanted to be. This is the momma I wasn't
Everyone is happy. Everyone looks cute
What you can't see behind the ferry railing, is the abject panic I felt most of the time
The terror that I would fail; do something wrong; let these little people down; let that husband of mine down 
And yet, I look at that picture, and maybe, just maybe it wasn't all as bad as I think it was
We were a family of 4 on a vacation
Maybe we look like we're having fun, because we were
Maybe everyone is assailed by those fears, at least sometimes
What I know is this:
I did fail
I did things wrong
I let those little people down
I let my husband down
BUT. . . 
We are still a family of four
We still go on vacation
We still have fun
And sometimes, we are still afraid
Because bad things happen and leave us struggling to understand, and questioning where to go next
And as long as we keep moving forward
I can be the momma I want to be.


and then just a few days later, I wrote this post:

it rolls over me like a wave, this lethargy.
it shocks me with its intensity, this anxiety.
how can they both exist simultaneously? how can i be exhausted and innervated at one time?
"you are strong, courageous, brave, and spiritual. you are suffering." 
can one person be all those things at one time?
he says, "pray without ceasing. just keep praying."
she says, "breathe. keep doing the relaxation breathing."
how do i accomplish the myriad of other responsibilities when expending all this energy just remembering to breathe?
abuse is incessant. it never really ceases. it simply changes format.


and I wonder how it can flip-flop so quickly. how can I go from seeing to being blind in the blink of an eye.
then I am reminded -- life is a journey. healing is a process. there are no rights and wrongs to feelings. I am excavating. it is hard, dirty work, with lots of dust and dirt and rubble to be moved away. oh, but the discoveries! they are like nuggets of gold and caches of rubies. and they are mine.

link up at Imperfect Prose

The Simple Woman's Daybook

FOR TODAY . . . April 10, 2012

Outside my window . . . it's cool and cloudy. Two bluejays just flew past. My hosta are filling in quite nicely and I'm even seeing elephant ears peeking through the soil.


I am thinking . . . that a round of depression is no fun. I've been really struggling since last Wednesday. I think today may be better. Let's hope so!


I am thankful . . . for my husband and best friend who are good at checking in on me and helping me when I'm struggling.

In the kitchen . . . dh was out of town last night, so the kids and I went to Cracker Barrel. Today I must clean out the refrigerator!


I am wearing . . . black yoga pants and a long sleeved t-shirt. I'm thinking a walk this morning instead of yoga.

I am creating . . . baby blankets still. I finished this one

and now I'm working on 2 more in this pattern and yarn

except this time in pinks and pastels for baby girls. I just started another one for friends who adopted baby Felix a week ago.

I am going . . . to the grocery store in just a little while. I think I've put it off as long as I possibly can this time, and still be able to pack edible lunches!

I am wondering . . . about the difference in dwelling in/on the past, and trying to work through the past. I try not to dwell, but my past is still a source of struggle and discomfort.

I am reading . . . Mrs. Tuesday's Departure by Suzanne E. Anderson

I am hoping . . . to get the shopping done, the bathroom cleaned, and the laundry caught up today. Too much? I hope not.

I am looking forward to . . . more crocheting, although I would like something besides baby blankets  : )

I am hearing . . . silence. The dogs seem settled, dd and ds are still in bed.


Around the house . . . I've been thinking about wanting more than just getting by. I'm just not sure how to implement a change.

I am pondering . . . my need to get back to personal journaling. I've let blogging supercede my personal writing. Right now I don't think that's in my best interest as there are many thoughts that I am not prepared to share with the blogging universe.

One of my favorite things . . . is tea. But you already knew that. My friend brought me more French breakfast tea when she visited last week. I'm rationing it out in the mornings, alternating with English and Irish breakfast teas.

A few plans for the rest of the week . . . therapy, Bible study, a cleaning/play day with my bff on Friday. I'm not sure what the weekend will bring, but I'm hoping for a trip to the farmers' market.

Here is a picture for thought I am sharing . . .

for more visit The Simple Woman's Daybook

Feel Good Friday

Well it's Feel Good Friday and unfortunately I don't feel well. Boo! Tummy troubles. : (


Anyway on to my list:


1. Tuesday night I got to have tea with a friend I hadn't seen in 25 years! And it was just like old times! So lovely to be reconnecting.


2. I finally pin basted my 1st Quilt Ever! Now I just have to get up my nerve to start the actual quilting!


3. Wednesday I got back to the YMCA, after being sick last week. It felt good to get some exercise. I walked 2.7 miles on the treadmill while I watched "Ghost Whisperer". I've been struggling with depression this week, and the exercise is a good antidote. However crying over a tv show while walking on the treadmill at the Y is a little embarrassing. 


4. Yesterday I picked my daughter up at the airport. She's been away for 5 months, and is home for a long weekend visit. We are working on getting things set up for her to move back home and start school in January. Busy times!


5. This week multiple friends checked on me voluntarily. They knew I was having a hard week and were compassionate and non-judgmental. That's the best Feel Good Friday there is!




Feel Good Friday is hosted by The Girl Next Door Grows Up.