{this moment}

A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

Red

Red was my favorite color when I was growing up. It showed up in so much of my clothing and accessories. But as I've gotten older and struggled with lost and retrieved memories the joy of red has become tainted with reminders of the terror of red.

Recently I went through an experience that reminded me far too much of the pain and suffering of childhood abuse. Similar pain from episodes of abuse. And I found myself crying and trying to remember to breathe. Trying to remember it wasn't happening again. That I was in control and the pain was only temporary. 

Red is the color of Christmas and Valentine's, but it's also the color of blood hidden from everyone. The color of panic and fear.

So while I had a period of time where red was totally off limits for me, I'm trying to slowly let it back in, but always mixed with other colors. My chakra bracelet 

my crochet basket 

my favorite tea cup

Because I want to remember the good red without it always being a reminder of the bad.


linking up with 5 Minute Friday

imperfect communication

We've been married for 28 years. We've seen each other through the births of our children. We've dealt with difficult pregnancies, an emergency c-section, weeks of bed rest, discussing funeral arrangements in case our son didn't survive, a premature birth, a slow and arduous recovery for me.

We've dealt with me telling him I understood he felt called to preach the gospel, but I was incapable of a being a "preacher's wife". I crushed his plans.

We've dealt with years of actuarial exams. Of his studying all evening and early mornings and working all day, while I stayed home and wrangled 2 kids.

We've dealt with recognizing and coming to terms with the abuse I suffered, and the ongoing effects of the abuse. He has supported me financially, physically, spiritually, and emotionally.

We've dealt with raising 2 kids. A misdiagnosis of one child and years of trying to find the right diagnosis. Medications that it turned out were unnecessary and even harmful.

We're facing the empty nest soon, and a job change for him in the near future. 

And we really love each other . . . but sometimes our communication skills are just awful. He lashes out from exhaustion, and I get my feelings hurt and just try to move a long.

We do this dance around each other. This imperfect dance of marriage and trying to understand and be understood.

We have an imperfect marriage full of imperfect communication because we are imperfect beings trying to emulate perfection.

linking up with imperfect prose

{TH} read

a completed project

a wip moving along quite nicely

a happy re-read

a new magazine in the mail yesterday

linking up with {TH} read

Welcoming Autumn

linking up with Wordless Wednesday & The Jenny Evolution

The Simple Woman's Daybook

FOR TODAY . . . September 3, 2013

Outside my window . . . the sky is pure blue and the sun is shining. My cherry tree is about half empty of leaves. We had a heavy dew this morning, and are still being inundated with spiders and their webs. Heavy snow for the coming winter? That's what the old wives tale says.

I am thinking . . . about getting into my routine for the week. It seems as if August was total chaos, so I'm looking forward to finding my rhythm again.

I am thankful . . . for a better day yesterday. I wasn't feeling well on Sunday.

In the kitchen . . . I've not been "feeling" it. I just don't want to cook. I think I'm tired of summer eating and ready for pots of soup and chili served with cornbread. But it's still too hot to do that, so I'll try to get motivated this week.

I am wearing . . . a giant black t-shirt that says Raven across the front. I think it's an advertisement for a local business.

I am creating . . . that corner to corner baby blanket. It's coming along nicely. I need to get some more yarn today for it, though.

I am going . . . to run a couple of quick errands this morning, and then bestie LBB is coming over for yoga and sewing.

I am wondering . . . about so many things, it's difficult to pick just one -- Syria, depression, moving toward being empty-nesters.

I am reading . . . Still Life by Louise Penny. I read it when it first came out but never got to follow up with the series. I'm rereading this while I wait for #2 to come to me from the library. 

I am looking forward to . . . routine. I need that rhythm in my life to feel settled and present. I am praying that it returns soon.

I am hearing . . . nothing but the sound of my hands on the keys and the occasional car as people in the neighborhood head out to work and school.

Around the house . . . I found the ping-pong table! That may not sound like much, but it's been covered all summer as we sorted through FIL's stuff.

before

after

I am praying . . . . for several friends struggling with cancer. Two in particular with breast cancer that has now moved into the brain. Also awaiting the births of 2 precious babies this month.

One of my favorite things . . . is my blog, and it has been somewhat neglected over the past few days. I'm hoping to feel more motivated to get back on track and do more writing on abuse and recovery.

A few plans for the rest of the week . . . yoga and sewing today. Tomorrow is a morning appointment followed by the grocery shopping. Thursday is Bible study, and Friday I'm meeting a friend at Starbucks. I'm not sure what the weekend will bring.

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

a new beading project

for more visit The Simple Woman's Daybook

No Man Is an Island

Those days when you just don't feel 100%. Do you have those? And then I feel guilty for not feeling 100%, so I try to figure what's causing it. What I've done wrong. And when I can't, it just makes it all worse, and I begin to panic.

Then I have guilt for panicking, and the spiral just keeps enlarging and spinning out of control.

Things have been really busy around here since we got back from our Cozumel diving vacation. You know the one where I only got 2 dives in because I developed middle ear barotrauma and had a stomach virus? Yes, that one.

Yesterday I was really feeling down in the dumps and really beating myself up for those feelings. Add to that I had to go to for allergy testing. (If you've never done this before, be glad!). I was dreading all the poking and needles and the CT scan of my head. But mostly I was dreading the professionals not understanding how hard it is for me to take care of myself.

I talked with my therapist. I had a healthy lunch. I took some meds, after calling to make sure it was okay. I got to the office early with my crochet to calm myself before being called back. I answered questions from the nurse. She took my blood pressure and asked it I had a headache. I said no. She asked if I was nervous. I said extremely. My BP was high. I explained as succinctly as possible that I have chronic PTSD and it just adds to my stress in these situations. She was very kind.

The doctor came in and we chatted about what had brought me to them. I volunteered again about the PTSD. And something shifted. In a really good way. She looked me right in the eye and said, "Thank you for telling me that. I believe in a whole body/mind/spirit approach to health." Then she proceeded to give me the name of another patient (with permission) who was also a survivor and has recently written a book about it. The doctor also told me if I had any trouble during the testing phase to tell the technicians to stop and call her. 

Compassion is an amazing thing. She didn't treat me with pity or asked for details. But when she was examining me, she noticed and commented on my survivor necklace. And she smiled. 

I went to another part of the building for testing and they were all very kind. The nurse who did all the prodding and poking asked if I was doing okay. I again shared about the PTSD. After expressing sympathy, she began to tell me about a friend of hers who was a victim of child abuse, but had been unable to find ways of dealing with it. I shared about my blog and prayer beads, and tried to listen compassionately without feeling obligated to fix his issues. As I left, I thanked her for helping me through the testing. She told me I'd helped her more.

That comment has stuck with me and made me think again about how important really connecting with other people is. How that connection is vital for all of us. And it's scary because it puts us in vulnerable positions. Positions where we can be hurt again. But it also puts us in positions to help and be helped. 

People need compassion. Compassion requires vulnerability.

Because . . . 

No man is an island,
Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thy friend's
Or of thine own were:
Any man's death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind,
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; 
It tolls for thee. 

--John Donne

Blessings!

linking up with imperfect prose