One Word 365 Recap and Thoughts on 2017 - part 2

(If you missed it, click here for part 1)

I didn't connect this struggle of faith with hopelessness until one very dark afternoon while waiting in the carpool line at my daughters' school. I had been struggling through several very days of dark moods when my friend Chez, who had been very concerned about me when I stopped talking to him, called me on the phone as I sat waiting for school to get out. He suggested to me that what I was feeling with regard to God sounded like hopelessness and I knew at once that he was right. I realised when he said it that I had cringed at the sound of the word and that I'd been actively avoiding using that word. I knew that the painful, gaping hole inside me was there because of a lack of hope. You would think that knowing this might help, but it only seemed to make it worse. I sank deeper into despair and grew more and more disconnected from my faith and, subsequently, from any desire to continue living.

To make a long story short, a flicker of light appeared in March of 2015. That's when I attended a Lenten ladies' devotion at our parish that was led by our family's beloved friend, Fr. B. After the devotion ended and everyone was chatting and nibbling on snacks, I went to say hello to Fr. B as it had been a good year or so since we'd seen each other. After our initial hellos, he asked how I was. I didn't want to burden him with my troubles, but something in the tone of his voice when he asked the question reminded me that he is more than just a priest, but a dear friend. That reminder of our treasured friendship undid my resolve and any attempt at trying to pretend I was "just fine" completely crumbled. In a choked up voice, I told him that things were hard and I'd had much better. He looked at me with such compassion that I felt myself start to cry a little bit. He handed me a napkin, gave me a hug, and said he'd be praying for me. That alone was a priceless gift, but then he told me to send him an email and we'd get together at his parish and pray about it. I did just that and a week or so later, we met together.

I'll admit that at that first meeting, I wasn't very keen on the idea of praying at all and told Father as much. He understood and before insisting that we pray anyway, he heard my confession and gave me the anointing of the sick. After those two sacraments, we began to pray -- or rather he prayed. I sat beside him and as the words of the prayers washed over me, the dam burst and I bawled like a baby. When Father finished praying, we talked briefly while I wiped my face and then we walked over to the main church and he gave me communion before leaving me there by myself to pray.  As I knelt there in the church, a sense of calm stole over me that I hadn't felt in a very long time. I had promised Father that I would stay for at least 10 minutes, but somewhere in the midst of that silence, 10 minutes stretched into an hour without my even noticing it.

After that meeting, we began to meet regularly, about 1-2 times a month for spiritual direction and prayer and over time, that increased to weekly at times based on my need (and his schedule) along with keeping in close touch by email as well. What grew out of those spiritual direction meetings was a very slow and very tenuous renewed relationship with God. In the past year and a half, there have been moments when I have wondered if what I was feeling stir within me was a spark of hope, but every time I have felt this -- whatever this is -- it has gone as quickly as it came, snuffed out by fear, PTSD triggers, or the circumstances of life. I have longed for hope to return and it has remained elusive and also something that I simply cannot bring myself to believe that I will ever have again.

And yet.....here we are and it's time to choose another word for the year and I'm being nudged by the Holy Spirit to choose "hope" as my word for 2017. I felt this insistent nudge about a week or so ago and immediately refused to entertain the idea. I've continued to feel it since then and every time I have shut the idea down so fast that if it had a head, it would spin. Nope. Nope. Nope. BIG old NOPE. Think of Dana Carvey's impersonation of George H. W. Bush where he says, "Nope, not gonna do it. Wouldn't be prudent at this juncture." That's basically where I'm at right now.

The Holy Spirit even went so far as to nudge me to mention this idea to Pendragon during our last session and to Gray last night. Obviously, Pendragon didn't push me and neither did Gray, but I know that both of them would be encouraged if I did decide to take the plunge and make "hope" my word for this coming year. The thing is, I can't do it because of how I know it would make them feel. If I chose this for any reason other than a desire within myself, I think it would be a miserable failure.

And yet....and yet this nudge is persistent. Do you know how I know this nudge is from the Holy Spirit? It's because everything within me -- every instinct, every gut reaction, every fiber of my being -- is screaming at the top of its voice, "Noooooooooooooo!!!!" and as much as I want to ignore this nudge to do it, I simply can't. It's not that it's louder than my own voice, but that it's just as loud and inexhaustibly, relentlessly determined not to let me wiggle or headbutt my way out of this.

So here I am on the edge of 2016 becoming 2017, still resisting and still scared. I know I need to just bite the bullet, say "Okay" and make the commitment, but for whatever reason, I just can't. Then why write this long essay about words and this subject? Because I needed to write it and because I know that despite not beginning the new year with a new word, this isn't over yet. It's only just beginning.

In the meantime, pray for me. God knows that not only did I need to write this, but that I need to do it too and only He can help me find the courage to plumb the depths of this virtue and learn how to find it, embrace it, and allow it to grow in my heart once again.

One Word 365 Recap and Thoughts on 2017

Eleventh Doctor: Vincent, can I help?
Vincent van Gogh: It is so clear you cannot help. And when you leave, and everyone always leaves, I will be left once more with an empty heart and no hope.
Eleventh Doctor: My experience is that there is, you know, surprisingly, always hope.

*****************

I'm not gonna lie y'all. It was a rough year for me personally. It was also a year that turned my world upside down in a way that was really difficult (and still is to a great degree), but that will, I think, eventually wind up being positive. The jury is still out on that, but my therapist Pendragon said something at our most recent session on Thursday that he hasn't said in a long time. Actually, he used a word that he hasn't dared to use in a long time -- but more on that later.

A couple of years ago I discovered this thing called One Word 365. Basically, the idea is that you select a word for the year to be a kind of focus word, if you will, that you allow to influence and change you mentally/emotionally, physically, or spiritually. For 2015, I chose two words because as much as I tried, I couldn't shake the idea that I needed to embrace both of them -- write and follow. The first one was chosen because I had just come off the 2014 Write 31 Days challenge in October and I wanted to commit myself to writing in my blog more regularly and keeping up with it instead of just throwing it to the side. In the two years that have been since, I've had ups and downs, but I think I've managed to write at least one entry each month and some months, more than one. That may not seem like much, but it's a start. I chose "follow" as a word because I was struggling spiritually with wanting to follow after Christ. I've spent pretty much my entire life following Christ, but had gone through a trauma so severe that it had shaken my faith to the deepest levels. I wanted a reminder of what I had always done and that I knew deep down that I still wanted to do -- follow Him.

For 2016, I kept my 2015 words and added a third -- move. In 2015, I participated in my first ever Out of the Darkness Overnight Walk and struggled physically much more than I wanted to do. After only completing about 1.5 miles of the total 18, I felt defeated and I knew that although I had emotionally been struggling, I wasn't in the physical shape I needed or wanted to be either. I also knew that I needed to lose weight and make some changes to better my health, so I decided that a good first step would be to start moving more. To that end, I joined a local gym so that I could start walking and lifting some weights and in April, I got a Fitbit tracker to help motivate me to take more steps each day. I can't say that I suddenly became a fitness fanatic, but I did get more steps in this year and as a result, I lost a little weight and got in a little better shape. This year I completed 7 miles of the 18 during the Out of the Darkness Overnight walk and that was with the addition of taking a nasty tumble and mildly injuring myself. So although it wasn't a hugely different year with regard to fitness, it was a better year than the one before it and it is the beginning of a journey that I'm going to continue this year.

Speaking of this year, I suppose it's time to tell you about what happened the other night in Pendragon's office. You see, out of deference to how much he knows I've struggled with it, there is a word that he has studiously avoided using for the most part over the last three and a half years. He knows how much this word has caused me anguish and buckets of tears. He knows how many hours I've spent in his office talking around this word, afraid to even breathe it aloud. Because of that, he hasn't pressed me on it, but during our conversation on Thursday, he went out on a limb and said that he felt like the things I've been learning with my psychologist Dr. D have been beneficial and that the fact that I've been able to use those skills is a good reason for hope.

Hope.

I have to be honest. Just typing that scares the heck out of me. I have been scared for almost four years to have hope. It is to the point that in the beginning, I couldn't make myself utter the word aloud, not even in its more common sense (like "I hope you have a great birthday."), much less talk about it in any depth or use the word in its theological sense. A lot of my reluctance to talk about it has come from the fact that part of the theological sense of it has to do with trusting God. For someone who has trusted God her whole life, that ought to be easy, but trauma has a funny way of changing the most fundamental things about a person in ways that he or she never thought possible.

You see, the trauma that I endured and the PTSD that came about as a result of it also created a deep pit of anger within me and a quite a lot of that anger was directed towards God. I felt deserted by Him in my greatest hour of need, despite having cried out to him amidst the ordeal I went through. It was as though He had vanished completely. The silence was deafening and the sense of His presence which had always been so real to me, was gone so completely it was as though I had never felt it at all. The combination of the trauma itself plus feeling so completely abandoned by God shook my faith so much that for a very long time, I wanted nothing to do with God or even anything associated with God in any way. It got so bad that I eventually began to doubt my faith and struggle with the temptation to turn away from God completely.

(Please click here for part 2.)

Quick Update -- November

It's been well over a month since I've written. I'm still alive and kicking, although more than a little bit busy. This time of year is normally very busy for our family (LOTS of birthdays, feast days, holidays, parties, school performances, etc), but it has been made even busier by an increase in therapy for me. I'll just suffice it to say that I was dreading the general election on November 8th for various reasons and then the results hit me very, very hard. I am, quite honestly, still trying to recover from that. That may not make much sense to many of you, but it is where I'm at right now. Perhaps one day I'll write more about what happened that day and what I'm currently feeling, but now is not the time for it.

Speaking of writing, I don't know how much I'm going to be writing in the next month or so. I'm kind of re-evaluating what I want to write about in this blog and if I even want to continue this blog at all. I think it serves a purpose at times, but sometimes I'm not sure that it's what I want to keep doing. I have a lot of thoughts in my head and ideas for posts, but I'm struggling a lot to make any of it make sense or sound coherent. I'm also struggling to stay true to my goal of writing on a consistent basis. I'm not totally ready to give it up, but I'm trying to discern what the best path is for me. Right now, this blog is definitely on the back burner as my family and my spiritual and mental health are my top priority.

If you want to keep up with new posts, the best way to do that is to like my blog Facebook page (Tales From A Southern Catholic Momma). When I post something new here, I'll add a post there with a link. It seems the easiest way to handle things. For now, that's about all I've got.

Pax!

Day Two: First

When life comes along with a challenge or a task which seems complicated or overwhelming, many people ask the question, "What do we do first?" It's the natural human way of approaching something that has lots of pieces, parts, steps, or that seems difficult to understand or navigate. First steps are important to get right because they can often determine the course of things or the order of any steps which come after it. They may even determine the outcome of a particular endeavour.

When you realise or someone else realises that you are experiencing symptoms of what may be a mental illness, it is the perfect question to ask. There are a few different first steps that can be taken when this is the case:

1. Make an appointment with your regular doctor. 

At this appointment, talk to him or her about your concerns and your symptoms. As your regular doctor knows your medical history, he can use that to determine if perhaps your symptoms are related to an issue you already have and if so, what the appropriate action is. He may order blood or imaging tests to rule out certain physical illnesses which may have symptoms that are the same as what you are experiencing. He may prescribe medication or change a medication that you already take. He may also go ahead and refer you to a psychiatrist and/or therapist.

2. You can make an appointment with a therapist or psychiatrist.

If you have many symptoms that seem to fit a particular mental illness and you are reasonably sure you aren't physically ill, you may choose to do this as your first step. Like meeting with your doctor, a psychiatrist or therapist can help you understand if you do have a diagnosable mental illness that needs therapy or medications. If you do not have a diagnosable mental illness, a therapist or psychiatrist can still help you in dealing with the symptoms or particular challenges of whatever is actually going on which is causing the symptoms -- including if it's caused by a physical illness of some kind.

3. If you realise you are having symptoms of a mental illness, but no one else around you has noticed, tell someone.

This is a hard first step, I know. It requires a lot of courage and some discernment too. It may be the very last thing you want to do, but it's critical if you want to get better. I know that sounds like I'm exaggerating, but it really is that vital. If you have a mental illness, you're going to need a strong support system outside of your doctor and/or therapist. You're going to want someone you can call or text or visit with who will listen, be there for you, and walk with you through it. Since not everyone is equipped to handle being that kind of support, that's where the discernment comes into play. You want to choose someone who you trust and who you know you can count on when things get hard. Ideally, this should be someone who is close enough to where you live that you can be around them in person, but it doesn't have to be. Even better would be for you to have more than one person you can talk to about things, so that if one person is unable to be there in a given moment, you've got other people you can turn to when things go pear-shaped.

4. If you don't have anyone you can tell how about your symptoms, try calling the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 (TALK) and talk to someone there. 

You don't have to be suicidal to call them. They are trained to listen and can offer a way of venting your feelings if you have no one you can turn to in your day to day life. They can also provide you with resources to find help in your area if you don't know where to start looking. I keep this number in my phone for myself for those times when I know that my support people are either tapped out emotionally or physically or when they're unavailable for some reason (like being out of contact because of vacation or limited access to phone or the internet). I have called a few times as well when I had my normal supports available, but was struggling to reach out to them like I normally would. The Lifeline is a great resource for anyone who is struggling with mental health issues and for those who are part of their support team.

Just as there are positive first steps you can take as you start a particular task, there are ones that, if taken, will make your task all the harder. With that in mind, here are three "first steps" to avoid:

1. Staying silent and trying to go it alone. -- Silence helps no one, least of all, you. If you're dealing with a mental illness, going it alone and trying to muscle your way through it in silence will only work for so long. Ask me how I know this.

2. Freaking out and doing nothing. -- This is a hard one to avoid because it's a very common reaction when you're dealing with something that is as overwhelming as the symptoms of mental illness can be. Also, no one really wants to have a mental illness, so freaking out is pretty normal. Just don't let it stop you completely.

3. Ignoring the symptoms in the hope that they will go away. -- If you have a diagnosable mental illness and you do this, I can guarantee you that it won't work and it will only make things worse. It won't help if your symptoms are the result of a physical illness either. Trust me. Ignoring things and trying to distract yourself from what you're feeling may work temporarily, but in the long run, you'll need some help from professionals in one way or another.

If you follow the first steps mentioned above (and avoid those other first steps), you will be glad you did. It's a pretty tired old adage, but it's true when people say that the first step is the hardest. It is. That first step takes immense courage and when you're already feeling so vulnerable, that can be even harder. Know this though: you CAN do it. You can! I believe in you! Go forth and conquer that first step! Once you've done it, you'll be on the path and then, it's just a matter of putting one foot in front of the other and taking it one step at a time.

Day One: Season

As summer slowly fades into autumn, the time of the year that I call The Season of Celebrations begins for our family. In the next three months, we have the following:

• Five birthdays
• Our wedding anniversary
• Four major holidays
• Three Holy Days of Obligation
• Four name and/or patron saint feast days
• Two additional saint feast days plus one of the many feasts celebrating Our Lord
• Advent and the beginning of the Catholic New Year
• Choir concerts at school
• Class Christmas parties
• Family coming to visit

And all these are just extras on top the normal day to day things of life like chores, paying bills, cooking meals, parenting responsibilities, grocery shopping, school, work, and church. I often joke that at I take a really big breath somewhere around mid-September and don't exhale until January 2nd. It certainly feels like things move crazy fast and there's just not enough time for anything during this season of the year. I think the fact that the days get shorter and darker earlier makes it feel even faster than it already would.

Another thing that makes this season seem to rush by is that I'm personally going through a difficult season of life as I struggle with PTSD and depression. This season has been ongoing for just shy of four years now. It has its own challenges because it adds to the frenetic pace of this season. Part of this is because I have been engaged in quite a lot of therapy and other supports to try to find some healing from this. Each week, I see my therapist twice by myself and once with Gray for marital therapy, my psychologist for EMDR and other help with PTSD (his area of expertise), and my spiritual director for prayer and spiritual counsel. I also have a special holy hour each week after my meeting with Fr. B. All of these things help me stay on a more even keel emotionally, but they not only take time to do, but I spend quite a bit of time in the car going from one appointment to another and back home again.

To be honest, I'm dreading the upcoming fall season of celebrations because I'm feeling tired and less than able to manage it all, but I don't have much choice. Guess I need to talk to Pendragon about ways to lessen my stress and help me get through this special season of the year. This is a strategy that I often employ when I'm feeling overwhelmed by life -- make a note of it and make it a priority to bring up in my individual or our marital therapy sessions. Pendragon always has good ideas and often is able to help me find a balance. I highly recommend that if you struggle with a mental illness, talk to your therapist or doctor about ways you can better manage the more stressful seasons of your life -- be they the end of the year holidays or other times of the year.

My prayer for this upcoming Season of Celebrations is that it is one that is full of joy and goes much more smoothly than I am anticipating!

31 Days of Forgotten Fridays

This year instead of trying to come up with something super original for Write 31 Days, I decided to go back to Fridays. Five Minute Fridays, that is. Because of life interruptions, sickness, family issues, and difficulties getting my writing mojo flowing, there have been quite a number of Five Minute Friday prompts that I've not written on or linked up in the past year. There were some of these prompts that I had ideas for but just couldn't manage to get anything written before the next week and the next prompt rolled around. There were other prompts that nailed me between the eyes so hard due to their appropriateness for my life at that time that I found it impossible to write something based on them. There were still other prompts that I just totally didn't even see the first time around because I was so inundated with dealing with life that I completely forgot about looking for the prompt and writing on it.

Because I'm going through quite a lot of late and don't have a lot of mental capacity to write much of anything (just check the gaps in the dates on this blog), I decided to try and use this month to focus on getting myself back into a habit of writing more often. To that end, I made a list of these "forgotten" Five Minute Friday prompts and decided to use those as a jumping off point for my Write 31 Days series this year. As of the writing of this, I am four days into October and haven't yet written any of the days, but I'm going to do my best to get caught up and have the first five days up and published by tomorrow (which is October 5th). 

Those of you who know me from the Five Minute Friday community will already know this, but if you're new to my blog, you should know that I'm a FMF slacker. I don't exactly set a timer and only write for five minutes. I don't always write and publish without editing. I have tried to do things by the rules, but have wound up with tons of anxiety and self-doubt about everything I've written. For my own mental health, I decided to do it my way. I write whatever I want on the prompt and take however long it takes me to write it. I know that means it's not technically a "five minute" Friday, but I don't think anyone minds too much.

I guess that's it for now. I hope you enjoy this little jaunt through 31 Days of Forgotten Fridays!

P. S. I'm hoping to be able to kind of tie all the posts together with a common theme, but if that proves too difficult, I may just write whatever I'm inspired to write.

Five Minute Friday: Five

It's been a while since I've linked up with my friends in the Five Minute Friday community, but for the first time in some weeks, I actually had a decent idea for the prompt. Granted, the idea came to me as I was falling asleep last night, but I managed to remember it, so here it is! 

FIVE

Five Things I Love About Fall

As of this past Thursday, it is officially fall. Where I live, the first day of fall never quite feels like fall, so it's hard to get into the fall state of mind. Even after the official first day of fall, the temps remain summer like in the 90s during the day and dropping into the upper 70s at night. The trees are still mostly clad in green and short sleeves and shorts still abound everywhere you look. That said last Friday night, I saw a graphic from a local meteorologist on Twitter with the comment that after Sunday, we would get to say goodbye to the 90s! The graphic showed the highs and lows for the next week or so and I nearly squealed when I saw that the last day on it had a low of 56! Huzzah! As it is Thursday again today, I can say that it's officially FALL!!! The temps the past few days have been AMAZING! Today was absolutely gloriously gorgeous with clear sunny skies and temperatures that didn't get above about 75. With the advent of these fabulous temperatures, it brings to mind all the many things that I love about this time of year, so without further ado, here are FIVE things I love about fall!

1. Fall leaves - I've loved gazing at fall foliage since I was a young girl. There's something so lovely and magical about how the leaves turn from the greens of summer to the sunny yellows, subdued browns, bright oranges, and flaming reds of autumn. My mother used to say that the trees were exchanging their summer dresses for fall ones. As a girl, I loved to imagine the trees standing front of a mirror trying on their new colours before deciding what to "wear."

2. Pumpkin Spice Lattes - Nowadays, there's pumpkin spice everything. You can walk through the aisles of your local grocery stores and find cookies, cream cheese, cereals, breads, ice cream, cakes, air fresheners, soaps, and even deodorant! The thing that I think started it all is the Starbucks' Pumpkin Spice Latte. The popularity of the PSL is so big these days that it's almost a little bit uncool to say that you like them, but I'm not ashamed. I LOVE a pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks! There's something about them that never fails to help reduce my stress levels and make me feel calm. 

3. Soups and Stews -- I am very happy to eat a bowl of soup or stew or chowder any time of the year, but there's nothing quite like a steaming bowl of soup on a chilly fall day that makes you feel good inside. Some soups and stews -- like chili or creamy butternut squash -- are the kind of thing that just begs to be made and eaten when the mercury starts dropping and I am all too happy to oblige. In fact, as far as chili goes, I am chomping at the bit for things to get cold enough to make it because it just doesn't seem nearly as good when the weather is warmer as it does on a crisp fall night.

4. Snuggly Blankets -- Where we live in the south, summers are spent with ceiling fans whirring and lightweight sheets and covers when you sleep, but I really look forward to when it cools off so I can break out my fuzzy, snuggly blankets. I love to sit on the couch on a cool morning, watching TV with my first cup of coffee with a big fuzzy blanket draped across my lap. One of my favourite memories made in the last four years is snuggling with my youngest, GB, sharing one of those blankets while she watches Daniel Tiger and I drink my coffee. I'm not really a big fan of mornings, but when she snuggles up to me like that, it makes everything -- including the fuzzy blanket we share -- that much better. 

5. More Energy, Less Sweat -- One of the things that I like least about summer is the fact that the heat and humidity do more than just make me uncomfortable and frizzy haired. They are so oppressive at times that they drain my energy to the point that I just don't feel like doing much of anything. The heat of the summer also means that I wind up sweating a lot more than normal which also contributes to the lack of energy. When the temperatures finally cool off, I often find that I suddenly feel like I have a burst of energy that I didn't have before. My favourite thing is when I step outside for the first time after things cool off and can really feel the difference in the air temp, it's like someone has hit me with a little bit of sugar to my blood stream. It's not what I'd call invigorating, but it definitely energises me. I love being able to sleep more comfortably and without waking up feeling slightly sweaty. It's bliss! 

Bonus Thing I Love About Fall: My beloved patron saint, Pope St. John Paul II, has his feast day during the fall on October 22nd! I can't wait to celebrate his feast day in a few weeks!

What are you favourite things about fall? Tell me about them in the comments!

On Faith, Being Real, and Writing

I am a Christian. More specifically, I am a Roman Catholic Christian. I realise that this doesn't come as a shock to many of you who read this and if you're halfway observant, it probably doesn't come as a big surprise even if this is your first visit to my blog (I mean the blog name is a dead giveaway).

So why am I stating this again? Because I've been wondering exactly how obvious a thing it is to those who read or glance at my blog on a regular or semi-regular basis. I don't hide my faith here, but I don't shout it from the rooftops either. It's not that I am averse to shouting about it or being bold in proclaiming it, but rather that my faith is such a deep part of me that it naturally comes to the surface when the need arises. I've always viewed it as a kind of organic thing in the writing of this blog.

My goal, when it comes to evangelisation, is to be bold when necessary, but to also be completely real. That desire to be completely real is why you don't see a scripture verse in every blog post or even something related to my faith. I don't recite scripture verses or talk about faith absolutely every time someone sees me in real life, so why would I write about it every single time I write something here in this blog?

Real life is messy, sweaty, disordered, frustrating, difficult, and complicated a lot of the time and so are most people. Yes, we can all clean ourselves up and put our best foot forward when necessary, but most of life is lived in those moments of earthiness when we're not at our best. That's why you won't see a shiny blog banner or tons of carefully crafted graphics or a professionally crafted layout where everything coordinates with everything else. It's just not who I am or what I'm about. It's not the real me.

Many of my fellow bloggers who write about faith are kind of the opposite of me and it made me wonder if perhaps my sort of organic approach to evangelisation meant that my faith was in the shadows and not as apparent as it needed to be. That's the purpose of this, I guess. I want to be sure that who I am is not getting lost in the shuffle.

To that end, I am going to try to write some more about what my faith means to me. One thing that I keep wanting to write up (for myself and to share with others) is the story of how I became a Catholic. There are other topics I want to write about too. I hope you'll read along with me as I write and leave me some comments. I'd especially love to write about any topics you've always wondered about with regard to Catholicism. If you're concerned about me or my salvation as a Catholic, feel free to let me know that and I'll do my best to write something about it.

I'll be continuing to write about mental health/illness topics as I go along, but I want to focus a bit more on faith too. If you like that I'm more laid back and organic, don't worry. I'm not changing that. I'll just be writing about faith a bit more purposefully at times.

Until next time...

Pax Christi (Peace of Christ)!

The Big Lie of Mental Illness

One of the most difficult things about living with a mental illness and trying to manage it is trying to recognize what is true and real versus what is a lie. On the surface, that sounds like a silly statement because most people have a pretty firm grasp on reality in their day to day lives. I mean, they know that the sky is blue, that the grass is green, that people need oxygen to live, that gravity keeps us all rooted to the ground, etc. These are more general truths and easier to see. The harder things are the more specific and personal realities. That's where mental illness likes to lie and convince you to swallow those lies.

To outsiders, these lies are very obvious. For example, a person struggling with bulimia or anorexia hears the frequent lie that they are fat, obese, or overweight. For those who are outside of that disease, it is very easy to see that the person struggling with the eating disorder is either a healthy weight or underweight, but it's not so easy if you're the one struggling with it. You may stand in front of the mirror and try to convince yourself that it's a lie and that you need to eat to stay alive, but the illness has lied to you so often and so loudly, that it's almost all you can hear about yourself.
Depression lies. Bipolar lies. PTSD lies. No matter the illness, they all lie.

While each illness has lies that are specific to it, many of the lies that mental illness tells tend to overlap between the various illnesses:

• "You're worthless."
• "No one cares about you."
• "You'll never get through this."
• "You shouldn't need help. You should be stronger than this."
• "He/she only stays with you out of guilt, not love."
• "This is hopeless."
• "You are alone in this."

I want to address that last one -- "You are alone in this." I think this is one of the single biggest lies that pretty much transcends every mental illness. You feel as though no one has ever gone through what you are going through or that no one you know has any idea of the pain you feel. You may feel physically alone because of a lack of support via family or friends or trained professionals. You may feel spiritually alone as though God has abandoned you or as though no one in your faith community understands what you're going through (and sadly, many people of faith still believe mental illness is something that can be prayed away or is the result of demons or sin). You may feel isolated due to your living situation -- living alone, living in a rural area, having no family or friends close by to help.

Here's the truth about this lie -- you are NOT alone. Let me repeat that. YOU ARE NOT ALONE. If I can convince you of one thing, I hope it's this. I know that it sounds simplistic and perhaps a bit like I'm trying to make light of your feelings, but trust me. I've been there and I know how fierce this lie is and how easy it is to believe it.

I've heard this lie (and many others) more times than I can count. When I was in so much pain and the feelings of being so totally alone were so strong, it made believing this lie as easy as hearing it. I've believed it so fiercely that I have done things that were detrimental to my mental health and that only made my illnesses worse. I would isolate myself, stop reaching out to others, hide my pain from those closest to me, and slowly drown in my feelings to the point that the pain was more than I could bear and suicide became an option that I not only considered but actively planned.

So what changed?

Well, for one, it took my big brother Chez knocking me over the head several times with his own particular way of phrasing things. Every time he heard some expression of my feelings of being totally alone, he would firmly, but kindly tell me that "feelings are not an accurate barometer of reality." In other words, our feelings about things don't always tell us the truth. The reality is that I am surrounded with people that care deeply for me -- including Gray, my kids, Pendragon, Sif, Rikert, Fr. B, and my big brother Chez -- who all want the best for me and that best includes improved mental health. But feelings are strong and this wasn't an easy or fast change. In fact, it took not only Chez's admonitions and support, but also various supports from Gray, psychological help from Pendragon, and Fr. B's prayers and support. Most of all, it took me making a conscious decision to believe that I wasn't alone so that I could reach out to those people when I felt most alone.

Let me be clear -- that conscious decision didn't erase my feelings or the lie that pounded through my head. Far from it. If anything, there were times that the lie grew much louder and more difficult to fight against and the feelings of loneliness grew stronger along with the temptations to let go, sink into despair, and embrace suicide. In many ways, once I made that conscious decision, the fight actually got harder because that decision meant that I was suddenly having to trust people and be really vulnerable with them in ways that I hadn't before.

One of the biggest hurdles was to learn how to totally let down my walls and be 100% vulnerable with Gray. It wasn't that I didn't trust him before, but rather that I was scared of hurting him with all my pain. You see, the depression and PTSD had lied to me that if I was totally honest with him, he would get scared and have me locked up somewhere or that he would just decide that he couldn't handle "my crazy" and leave altogether.

Because I believed these lies for a long time, I struggled violently and almost daily with wanting to kill myself. The feelings were so intense that there were more than a few times that I made a suicide plan and intended to carry it out. The only person I was reaching out to at that point was Chez. You see, it's easier to be vulnerable with someone who lives 2000 miles away (although I kept some things from Chez too). Thanks be to God though, Chez cares enough about me that after trying to convince me to talk to Gray and running into a brick wall, he went around the wall to Gray directly and told him to talk to me. That was a very hard conversation to have and one that I fought having. In the end, it took several marital sessions and a lot of help from Pendragon (in those sessions and my individual ones) to help me work through my fears and be completely vulnerable with Gray.

In the interest of being completely candid, I still have moments when I struggle with being totally vulnerable and honest with Gray, Pendragon, and Chez too. It's much easier these days than it used to be, but every now and then when things get really dark and I feel alone, I want to isolate myself from everyone again. Instead of giving into those temptations and feelings though, I fight back. I reach out instead of being quiet. I talk to those in my support team -- Gray, Pendragon, Fr. B, and Chez primarily -- and I talk to them honestly. It's not always an easy thing to do either, but then fighting against yourself never is easy.

Gray and I still do marital sessions with Pendragon on a regular basis. Those sessions help a lot. They give us a place to talk through our struggles when they arise, to vent about a difficult week, to strategise when things are tough, and to continue to work on communicating with each other. As I often tell people, it's not that our marriage is in dire straits, but rather that given the nature of my illness, we want as much help as we can get.

Notice that I said "we" rather than "I" in the previous sentence. That's because another thing these marital sessions have accomplished is to more solidly unify Gray and myself into that "one flesh" that is spoken of by Jesus. We are a team in this. I no longer have to fight this alone. That's the thing about mental illness and the big lie that "you are alone in this." It not only convinces that you are alone, but that you must fight it alone, but that's a big fat lie as well.

You are not alone and you don't have to fight it alone. Even if you feel alone as you read this, know this one thing: you have me. Yes, me. See that red square button on the right hand side of this page? It's the one that says "Email The Momma." If you feel alone, all you have to do is click that button and send me an email. I promise that I'll write back.

If you need someone to connect with sooner than I am able to get back to you, you can pick up the phone and make a call. I know that's hard to do sometimes, but you can do it. I believe in you! If there's no one that you feel comfortable calling, then call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 (TALK). You don't have to be suicidal or in a severe crisis to call them. Just dial the number. You can also click the link I provided and chat with them via the internet if you'd rather talk that way. Both the hotline and the crisis chat are available 24 hours a day/7 days a week.

One other option if you have a cell phone and live in the USA is the Crisis Textline. It's super easy to use. All you have to do is text the word "Start" to the number 741741. When you do, a crisis counselor will text you back quickly and talk with you about whatever is on your heart. I have not personally used this resource, but have heard wonderful things about it. If you want more information on it, just click the link above.

The big lie that "you are alone in this" is a hard one to overcome and a hard one to convince yourself to fight against, but it IS doable. Remember: feelings are fickle and not an accurate indicator of what is true and your feelings WILL lie to you about this, but now that you know, you can fight. Reach out for help if you need it. You've got this!

P.S. Lest anyone reading this thinks I've got it all figured out, I want to assure you that I don't. I wrote most of this yesterday (7/13/2016) and I got hit with the big fat lie of being alone today. I was physically alone, but my illness came along and tried to convince me that in my moment of struggle that no one cared and that I was absolutely alone. It smacked me over the head like a sledgehammer. I felt weak and struggled for a solid hour before I finally gathered enough wherewithal to remember that my feelings were lying to me. I wrestled with this lie for a good hour before I managed to remember that Gray was just a text message away and that I could reach out to others. That action of reaching out eventually quelled the lie (after some time and some prayer too), but it shook me a bit. As strong as I've gotten and as much as I've learned, I can still fall prey to this vicious lie. I don't tell you this so that you lose hope, but just to be transparent with you. The hope in this is that I remembered that this is a lie and I overcame it. You can too!

Monday Joys -- July 11, 2016

I'm a couple of days late in getting to my Monday Joys post, but when you see my list, I think you'll understand!

1. Appointment with Pendragon -- always a good thing, but a much needed thing this past week as things had been very difficult the week before. Ended on a good note as we talked about the weekend to come.

2. Voxing with my buddy Tara and hearing all about her awesome week last week.

3. The Five Minute Friday Twitter party on Thursday night -- couldn't do much chatting as I was exhausted from my day and still had stuff to do, but it's always good to see everyone even if all I do is pop in and say hi.

4. Finally had a doctor's appointment w/my regular doctor after about 14-16 months of not seeing him. I was down in my weight by 8 pounds, which he seemed pleased with and I was genuinely glad to report that I've been making some strides in improving my mental health. He ordered labs for cholesterol and I got a phone call on Monday afternoon that my cholesterol numbers were good.

5. Meeting with Fr. B for spiritual direction and prayer. He gave me a very special gift that he picked up in Rome for me. It was a third class relic of Pope St. John Paul II! I loved him even before I became Catholic and have felt a special affection and kinship with him for a long time, but that has only increased since he's been canonized as a saint. Fr. B blessed me with the relic and then gave it to me. I cried tears of joy which only increased when he told me that not only had he brought that back, but that he'd prayed for me at Pope St. John Paul II's tomb while he was in Rome. What a blessing!

6. Appointment with Dr. D for EMDR. It was a very intense appointment as we tackled one of the harder parts of my trauma memory, but I think it was a fruitful appointment. He said that he was very optimistic about my progress and about my future progress.

7. Left Friday morning for Atlanta, Georgia for a "retreat." I put that last word in quotes because although we call it a retreat, it's not a very spiritual kind of thing. It's actually a huge meetup of a group of my friends that I met online some ten years ago. We're a community of women (well mostly women, but we do have a couple of men in the group too) who all practice natural family planning (aka NFP). While a large percentage of us are Catholic, there are a number of different faiths represented from non-Catholic Christian to LDS to Orthodox Jewish as well as some women who do not profess any kind of faith at all. We live all across the USA for the most part, although we also have a number of ladies who live in Canada, and a few more who are in other countries around the world. Every two years, we have a "retreat" where we meet up in a particular city for a weekend of hanging out, talking, laughing, and getting to know one another face to face. The only really spiritual thing we usually do is that we go to the Saturday night vigil Mass together (mostly us Catholics), but even that is a fun experience. I went to my first such retreat two years ago in Kansas City, Missouri and had such a blast that I told Gray I was putting him on notice that in two years, I'd be going to wherever the next one was and to just plan on being without me that weekend. This year, I told him that I'd be going to the one in 2018 even before I left for Atlanta!

It was an amazing weekend! I met several ladies I'd wanted to meet for a long time, reconnected with ladies I met last time, and enjoyed seeing a few of them that I've gotten to know fairly well over the years (who live in my home state). I also felt incredibly loved all weekend long and so supported. That support was very important when I had a flashback on Sunday afternoon at a restaurant. I was so embarrassed by it, but the ladies were so loving, understanding, and supportive that it helped me manage that difficulty much easier than I would have if I'd been alone.

8. Ended my weekend on Monday morning when I took a quick trip to the Atlanta IKEA store after leaving the hotel. I'd never been to an IKEA before, so it was a lot of fun to walk around and see what it was all about. I also grabbed a quick bite in their restaurant before getting on the road to come home. I also bought a few things and made plans to return another day when I have more time to look and perhaps buy something bigger (like furniture) that we need.

9. Seeing my kids again after such a long weekend and being enveloped in their hugs and declarations of how much they missed me and love me.

10. The Barnyard Pimp sandwich from The Pig and The Pint in College Park, GA <--- YUM. SO much YUM! The remainder of the retreatants and I went out to dinner there on Sunday night and 4 of the 7 of us ordered that sandwich. It was marinated fried chicken, sharp cheddar cheese, bacon, avocado, and an apple butter barbecue sauce on an onion roll. As if all that weren't enough, I had their ridiculously delicious loaded mashed potatoes for a side and a Crispin blackberry pear hard cider to drink. Y'all. Just Y'ALL. It was all SO good! We decided that it was our favourite meal of the weekend.

11. Speaking of meals, Friday night's meal at the retreat was super fun too. We kinda all went different ways for dinner that night and I went with a group of seven other ladies (8 of us total) to a local Mexican place down the road from the hotel. We ordered two pitchers of margaritas (trying to be economical since we all wanted one) and although we didn't need the alcohol to turn on our laughter, it certainly increased the giggles. I only had a very small drink since I was driving and it's good that I limited myself because any more than that very small drink and I'd have been over the legal limit for sure. Those margaritas were seriously strong. One of the ladies commented, "They weren't playing around. I think they must have put a gallon of tequila in those two pitchers!" The food was very good and we all enjoyed it. We enjoyed lots of conversation -- which was punctuated with raucous gales of laughter -- along with the food. As we sat waiting for our bills at the end of the meal, we looked up and suddenly saw the staff approaching with a pair of plates and two sombreros. One of the men was carrying a pair of cymbals too. When they reached our table, they put a sombrero on one of the ladies and then put one on me! I was totally surprised! Then they put a plate of sopapilla drizzled with chocolate syrup and covered with whipped cream in front of me and my friend with the other sombrero. We looked at each other in astonishment. "Did you do this?" "No! Did you?" "No!" The entire table shook with laughter as the eight of us tried to figure out who had done this. While all of this was going on, the staff was singing, "Happy Birthday" to us while the man played his cymbals and we laughed uproariously. No one could figure out who had set this up. See, my birthday is in March and my friend's is in February, so neither of us was anywhere near celebrating our birthdays! I'm giggling just thinking about it. We had so much fun that KJ and I have declared that July 8th is, forevermore, our shared NFP birthday. On Saturday morning, one of the ladies who had heard the story of our "birthday" celebration gave both of us a "birthday" card with the inscription, "Happy NFP Birthday!" It was absolutely perfect.

With a bit of luck, next week's edition will be posted on Monday instead of Wednesday. I thought about it on Monday night, but was so tired that I decided it was probably a good idea for me to try and sleep. Then I took one more day to rest up a bit before attempting to write. I had such a great weekend that I needed a day and a half to recover!

Until next week!

Monday Joys - July 4th, 2016

My friend Tara over at Praying on the Prairie does this weekly post called Sunday Blessings where she recaps her week by counting her blessings. They can be really big things like an answered prayer or small things like a text from a friend. I've long enjoyed reading her posts and have thought about doing something similar but have yet to hit upon a way that I want to do it. Well, today being July 4th and having had a pretty good day, I got sort of reflective in my Facebook status update. As I was rereading what I'd written, it occurred to me that all of the things I had listed were little blessings. That's when it hit me that the way I want to do this is try and list my little joys each week. As I was considering this post, it occurred to me that a good reason to try to start getting into the habit of doing this each week and doing it on Mondays rather than Sundays is twofold:

• Depression and PTSD often make it hard for me to see anything as joyful, even when it is. Doing this each week may help me be more mindful as I go about my week of the times when joy shines into the cracks of my day to day life. 
• Mondays are a day that I dread for a number of reasons. I have hated them since I was a child. Mondays mean that you either have to go to school or work or if you're like me and you're a stay at home mom, it means you're alone with the kids and no adult conversation or interaction. It's often a big downer after the weekend and especially so if you've had a really awesome weekend or are coming off a fun vacation. I guess the thought is if I sort of refocus my Mondays a bit by listing the previous week's joys and blessings, that it won't be quite as onerous.

I can't promise that my list will be nearly as long as Tara's is each week, but I can promise that there will be little joys. So, without further ado, here's the first installment of Monday Joys!

1. A vox from my friend Tara - so good to hear her voice. I've been missing her!

2. A long chat with my first cousin J. We talked for a good two and a half hours! It was like old times and I can't wait to do it again.

3. My weekly spiritual direction meeting with my priest, Fr. B. This week was very hard, but Father was so patient, gentle, and compassionate with me. He also reminded me of some very important things -- one of which is that he's always praying for me, Gray, and our family.

4. Fr. B gave me a second class relic of St. Brother André Bessette! He said for me to "hold onto it", so I'm not sure if he means me to keep it for good, but even if not, I am honoured to keep it for a time. St. Brother André was known for having a gift of healing in this life and his intercession as a saint has been attributed to numerous miraculous healings and cures.

5. A 30 minute long aromatherapy deep tissue massage on Thursday following my appointment with Dr. D for EMDR. My body had been so tense from all the stresses of the week (very rough week emotionally and spiritually) that I needed to have all those knots worked out. I hadn't planned on doing it, but I think my guardian angel must have nudged me in that direction because I suddenly had the idea and knew that I just had to do it. It was AMAZING. After the massage, I had a complimentary steam shower which was such a refreshing thing in and of itself. I actually had a cool shower but enjoyed steam coming from the vents and the combination of that with the massage left me feeling so totally relaxed and calm. It was nice to feel all clean on my drive home too!

6. Panera Bread's blood orange lemonade is, quite simply, THE BOMB. I could drink it several glasses of it every single day. With the mercury in the mid to upper 90s and the humidity so heavy that you feel like you're walking through a steaming oven, it's the perfect way to help you cool off, quench your thirst, and re-energize. Yes, it's a little pricey (about $2.19-2.59, depending on size) but if you're like me and you want more than one glass, it's worth it because the refills are FREE. I highly recommend a big glass of it paired with the Green Goddess Cobb Salad with Chicken for a light and refreshing lunch or dinner when it's too hot to cook or you just want something filling, but not too heavy. I recommend the lemonade all by itself as well!

7. Hamburgers made and grilled by my hubby Gray for our 4th of July repast. I enjoyed mine with sliced tomatoes, sharp cheddar cheese, dill pickle chips, mayo and ketchup. YUM!

8. This afternoon M2 decided to put on one of the digital music channels that comes w/our satellite package. She chose "classic rock" and soon the house was filled with The Eagles, Lynard Skynard, The Beatles, Three Dog Night, and Queen, among others. She and her sisters jammed out and I grabbed our littlest girl, GB, and tried to teach her some dance moves. That evolved into her sisters wanting to dance with me too and pretty soon we were all swaying, twirling, and grooving to the beat. The best was when "Joy to the World" by Three Dog Night came on. SO much fun!

9. As it's the 4th of July, some fireworks were in order. AB had spotted some leftover fireworks from last year in our garage about a week ago and was chomping at the bit to light them off tonight. I stepped out to one of the local fireworks sellers and bought a few sparklers, some cherry snappers (those paper snaps you throw at the pavement), bottle rockets, and a package of really pretty fireworks that came with their own mortar to use for launching them. The girls had fun with the sparklers and the cherry snappers and we all enjoyed the bottle rockets and other fireworks. We also enjoyed the fireworks being set off by our neighbours down the street, around the corner, and about two streets over as they lit up the sky.

10. Dessert tonight was yummy -- store bought apple pie and vanilla bean ice cream. Simple, classically American, and just perfect!

11. Bedtime prayers tonight with my girls were a quiet kind of comfort.

12. Sitting in the grass with GB in my lap and her big sisters snuggled close while we watched the fireworks made my heart swell with love.

13. All the excitement of getting ready to see all my girlfriends this coming weekend at our every other year "retreat." I know these gals from an online community and consider many of them dear friends. It will be so wonderful to see all their faces again and hug their necks and chat and giggle until our voices are hoarse.

14. The blessing of my big brother Chez and my friend Rikert who are always so good to pray for me when I need it. I am so thankful for them both and their support.

15. The fun of the Thursday night Five Minute Friday Twitter party. I wasn't as active this week, but I always enjoy hanging with that community and chatting about our week.

16. For M2 who leaned over after communion on Sunday as I knelt crying (as I frequently do) and said, "Momma, I just had the thought that I should pray for you, so I prayed and asked God to give you some good sleep and no bad dreams. I realised that I hadn't really prayed for you like that before and that I should, so I did. I'm sorry I didn't before now." That caused even more tears as I leaned over, kissed the top of her head, and embraced her in a hug. I told her how much I appreciated that. Her sweet tender heart just bowls me over sometimes and this was definitely one of those moments.

I guess that's all for this week. With any luck, next Monday, I'll be back to do it all over again. Until then...

Five Minute Friday: Rest

It's been a while, but here I am again, joining in with the Five Minute Friday community at Kate Motaung's blog, Heading Home. If you're interested in seeing what this is all about, just click here for the details. If you'd like to check out this week's prompt word and the posts from the rest of the community over at Kate's, click here. The link up is at the bottom of the page just below Kate's contribution to this week's prompt word.......

REST

I haven't been writing much in this blog over the last couple of months and the biggest reason is that I needed some rest. It sounds a bit silly to say it like that because, if anything, the last couple of months have been less than restful. They've been arduous, restless, painful at times, busy, and even joyous too.

So where is the rest?

It's certainly not in my bed. Insomnia is my ever constant companion and seems to pull at me no matter how physically exhausted I may be. I do get some sleep, but it's not enough and the nightmares that have plagued me for so long continue largely unabated.

The rest I've been seeking has been found in simplifying my daily routine as much as possible so as to eliminate stresses. I've been purposefully taking breaks from social media at times. I've taught myself to avoid reading about topics that add to my stress levels -- like politics, harrowing stories of violence, etc. I'll admit that I'm not totally good at that, but I've been really trying because it helps. As much as I enjoy writing in this blog, I was starting to feel a bit of pressure to write here and that was adding to my stress. So I let it go. I've written a couple of brief update posts just to let people know that I'm still alive and kicking, but other than that, I've not really written much at all.

When I started blogging and making my blog public, I worried about how many comments I got and what people thought and how many hits there were, but all of that changed last fall. Last September 29th, I almost killed myself. I had a night when I plunged as deep as I've ever been in a long time. The darkness hit me so fast and so heavy that I might have been a stone cast into a lake that is sinking fast. An almost three hour appointment with Pendragon slowed my descent somewhat, but not enough. It took another three and a half hours on the phone with my brother Chez to halt things and start bringing me back up to the surface. It was another three days before I was breathing more easily again.

The whole experience jolted something within me and caused me to realise that I had narrowly escaped death. It made me reassess the important things and overhaul my day to day life so that it was more focused on self-care, survival, and recovery from this episode of depression. I stopped worrying about hits and comments. I started doing everything I could to minimize stress. Admittedly, when you've been living your life for a long time in a certain way, it's hard to make those changes, but I knew I had it to do if I didn't want another night like that one.

I tried to keep blogging at a rate of one post or two per week, but it was much harder than I wanted it to be and often, the inspiration just didn't come. When a week or two would go by, I felt guilty about not doing better at it. Guilt is not a friend to recovery from depression. In fact, it makes things worse because it feeds the cycle of self-recrimination that many people with depression tend to fall into where they beat themselves up for not being good enough or being worthless. I fell into that over and over again when it came to this blog. I kept telling myself that I just wasn't good enough and no one cared about anything I was writing. It certainly felt that way to me. Then I'd let it go for a while and feel guilty about not writing. I tried writing devotions on the Psalms, but after about 18 days of doing that, I couldn't keep it up. I had no energy for it and despite the fact that I had committed to God that I would do it, I just couldn't make myself. I'm still feeling bad about that, to be honest.

So after several months of fighting within myself about the blog, I let it go.

I decided to take a rest from it.

In the past couple of months, I've had some inspirations, but nothing that really prodded me to write. Lately though I've been working on a couple of things. One of these is a post about my trip to New York City which was three weeks ago. That's been a harder one than I expected to write because I want to tell every little detail, but I'm afraid that anyone who reads here might decide that it's too long or that he needs a rest in the middle. Editing myself, if you can't tell, is not my strong suit.

So I've been trying to rest from writing for a bit. I've needed it. PTSD is a hard illness to deal with and having a diagnosis and going through specific treatment for it is harder still. It is, to steal a phrase from the British, rather a lot to be getting on with. I would like to say that I'm back, but I know the reality is that for a while yet, I'm going to need to rest as much as I can. At best, I can say that I'll be sporadic, but I'll try to write whenever the inspiration strikes.

For now though, it's time to end this post and rest.

Just a quick update

This week has been a beast. I'm still alive and kicking, but a lot has happened. I had something for Five Minute Friday that was mostly ready to go, but just haven't gotten back to finishing it. I know that sounds odd given that it's supposed to be an exercise done in five minutes with no editing and using the week's prompt, but I stopped doing FMF like that several months ago. So I take as long as I need to write and edit if I feel it is necessary (although I try to keep it to a bare minimum and only do what is necessary for it to be readable -- inserting forgotten articles, changing verb tenses, etc). This week, that means that I'm likely not going to be completing my FMF entry. Tomorrow (Thursday) is going to be busy for me and I doubt I'll have time to get back to it before the linkup ends.

If you're not too busy, would you send up a prayer for me? I've got a lot going on in the next few days and week and I'm dealing with all of that on top of struggling with my illnesses too. Gray could use a prayer or two as well. Whenever I'm struggling, he invariably is put under a lot more stress as well and it's so hard for him. He's so wonderfully gracious about it though. I love him so much and want to support him in prayer too.

God bless y'all.

Pax Christi,
The Momma

Five Minute Friday: Grow

It's been a few weeks since I've joined in with the Five Minute Friday community, but this week's prompt got my creative juices flowing once again. If you'd like to join in the fun, just head over to our community hostess Kate's blog Heading Home for more info! Without further ado, here's my take on this week's prompt word:

GROW

This week's prompt kinda got me thinking about a lot of different ways I could go with this idea of "grow." I wanted to start writing about it on Thursday night after my shower, but it was already getting late and I was exhausted so it got put off until now. In the meantime, I kept sort of noodling over the idea and thought I knew where I was going with it.

Until this afternoon. When M2 and her sister AB got into a bit of a fuss over watching TV (the usual fuss of one wants to watch one thing and the other doesn't), my idea about this week's prompt went right out the window.

As it was a pretty afternoon, our front door was open with the glass storm door closed to keep out bugs and let in light. The fuss between my two eldest girls ended with AB getting what she wanted and M2 getting frustrated and then walking outside. I knew she likely just needed a bit to cool off, but then I looked up and realised that it had been more than a bit, so I went outside to find her.

I called her name and she answered immediately and came up to the front porch where I was standing. The conversation went something like this:

Me: You okay?
M2: Yeah, I was just playing a bit. I should get my shoes.
Me: Probably, but it's okay for a little bit. You sure you're okay?
M2: Yeah. (sighs and looks down for a moment) I mean I was mad at AB, but I'm not now. The higher road is justice, right Momma?
Me: (taken aback and not sure what she means) What was that last bit about justice?
M2: The higher road is justice. Justice means fairness. It would be fair for AB to only get a 30 minutes of her movie instead of the whole hour and a half since I only got to watch 30 minutes of Star Trek, right? (Author's note: Yes, we are that nerdy of a family)
Me: Yes, that's right. That would be fair. But the higher road would be being generous and allowing her to watch the whole thing instead of being nitpicky about what's most fair.
M2: You're right mom. It would be.

We hugged and then she looked at me and said:

M2: But do you think maybe since I'm letting her watch the whole thing instead of just a half hour that we could have a non-messy dinner in the living room and I could watch something I want to watch?
Me: Let me talk to Daddy about it, okay pumpkin?
M2: Okay, Momma.
Me: (hugging her tight and kissing the top of her head) I love you, M2. You know that?
M2: (her hugging me back and then kissing my cheek with a grin) Yeah, I know. I love you too, Momma.

Higher road and justice and generosity....how on earth did she get so big so fast?

My original plan was to write about how much I feel like I've grown in the last several months, but this little moment with my biggest girl caught me off-guard and made me realize with a start how much she's grown in the last year. It makes me think of that that ABBA song, "Slipping Through My Fingers" which I heard for the first time while watching the movie Mamma Mia several years ago. My eldest will be 10 years old this year and yet, it seems like only yesterday that she was a baby in my arms. Time keeps slipping through my fingers and she keeps growing -- not just in her physical body, but her maturity too. It seems like this last year has been one where she's changed a lot faster.

I'll admit, there's a part of me that wants to put a rock on her head and try to slow her down, but there's also that part of me that swells with pride and joy over the young lady she is fast becoming. Kids growing up truly is a bittersweet thing and while it's hard, I'm trying to capture as many of these moments as I can because I know one day, I'll look up and she'll be heading out on her own.

Love you, bug. ~ Momma

Update on stuff

Hey friends! This is going to be a longer update than I normally do, just to give you a heads up.

I know it's been a while since I've written in this blog, so I wanted to pop in and give a quick update. Life has been kind of stressful in the last month or so and it's made me struggle with trying to find any inspiration. It seems that occasionally I get a particular blog post idea in my head and then by the time I have the energy to get around to it, it's gone. The other thing that's been happening a lot lately is that I just never seem to have the energy to manage even opening my laptop so I can write something.

So what's going on in my world? Well, some transitions, a significant milestone, and a few other things.

The transitions are mostly to do with some changes with Gray's work schedule and how that's affecting me. It's been about two weeks since the changes went into effect and I'm still struggling to get used to it. There were some real frustrations with the changes early on as I was afraid they were going to make it worse for me with regard to what I need to do to see to my mental health (counselling, spiritual direction, and EMDR therapy), but after several conversations together with Gray, a few with Pendragon, and a few between Gray and his boss, the knot of tension in my gut that's been there for a good three weeks has finally eased.

As for milestones, well, Miss AB had her First Holy Communion on April 30th. She looked absolutely beautiful and it was such a joyful and meaningful Mass for her and our whole family. My awesome mom-in-law Balinda flew down the Thursday beforehand and stayed w/us the whole weekend. My folks came on the day along with AB's godmother (plus her hubby and 3 kids) and her godfather, who drove in from out of state. After Mass, we enjoyed the party in the parish hall and then went out to the Olive Garden to celebrate w/my folks, Balinda, and AB's godfather. It was a wonderful meal and I think everyone had a great time -- most of all AB who received a whole bunch of presents from everyone.

As for the rest, the bulk of it has been me getting ready for my trip to New York City to walk in my second Out of the Darkness Overnight Walk (click the link if you'd like to donate as I'm still working toward my goal!). I've been doing a good bit of walking at the gym and the park to get my body in better shape to actually do the walking that's going to be required. Additionally, I finally got my hotel and flight nailed down and am steadily working on the things I want to do in my limited time there that weekend. I've never been to NYC and have wanted to go since I was a kid, so this is super exciting for me. I just wish I had more than just the weekend to spend exploring and seeing all the wonderful things NYC has to offer. On my list are:

• a visit to the MoMA (to see Van Gogh's The Starry Night)
• Mass at St. Patrick's Cathedral on Sunday
• cannolis to enjoy and take home from some luscious bakery in Little Italy
• pictures of as many famous sights as possible (I promised my girls I'd try to get a good one of Miss Liberty!)
• shopping to buy a few souvenirs to take home 

• and of course, walking 16-18 miles for suicide prevention from Saturday night into Sunday morning! 

I don't know if I'll be able to get it all in, but I'm definitely going to try. I learned a lot last year about the event I'm participating in and what NOT to do, so I feel much better prepared this year. I'll fly home Monday afternoon, so I won't have much time on Monday to do much of anything.

One other thing of note that has been going on of late is that with much fear and trepidation, I began seeing a psychologist, Dr. D (not to be confused with my regular therapist Pendragon), who specialises in PTSD and is trained and certified to do EMDR treatments. Given my past experiences with mental healthcare professionals, it was really hard to go to that first appointment. Gray went with me to offer support, encouragement, and took over the responsibility of filling out the requisite new patient paperwork. My stomach, back, shoulders, and arms were tied up in knots of tension and anxiety and despite Pendragon's very positive view of Dr. D, I didn't want to go through with the appointment at all. It took all I had to make myself follow him down the hall from the waiting room to his office. Once I got through that appointment, it made it a little easier the next time. I'll admit though that although I've now seen Dr. D three times, there's still a part of me which is nervous about fully letting my guard down. Overall though, it's been a positive experience.

Dr. D is a nice man, has a decent sense of humour, and seems quite concerned to make the experience of therapy as comfortable for me as possible. He's also very smart and knows a lot about PTSD in a way that Pendragon doesn't. I've already learned more about it than I knew before and given Dr. D's expertise, I now have a formal diagnosis of PTSD. I wasn't looking for a diagnosis, but now that I have one, I feel a kind of relief. That may sound odd, but one of the lies that PTSD sometimes tells you is that what you went through wasn't that bad or that you're blowing it all out of proportion. In other words, you start to feel like you're a bit crazy for feeling the way you do. Having a formal diagnosis of PTSD gives validity to the feelings I've had and the symptoms I've been experiencing and makes me feel less like I'm just crazy.

So lots of good things and a few very challenging things as well, but overall, life has been a bit better if a bit exhausting. I don't know how much writing I'm going to be doing between now and the beginning of next month, but I'm aiming to at least try and write something once a week instead of letting so much time elapse. My apologies for such a long post and my gratitude if you actually read all of this navel-gazing!

Until next time...

Five Minute Friday: Whole

It's been a few weeks since I've joined up with the Five Minute Friday community, so if this gets a little rambly, y'all bear with me, okay? I'm a bit out of practice. If you'd like to join and write something on this week's prompt word, head over to Kate's blog Heading Home and link up at the bottom of this week's post.

Whole

There are so many things I could write about with this word, but I think I'm just going to kind of ramble and pray that it all kinda melds together into one coherent thought. The first thing I thought about when I saw the prompt word is that I haven't felt whole in a long time. I think the last time I felt really, truly whole was when I was pregnant with our eldest daughter, M2. We'd been married for about six months when she was conceived and I was overjoyed at the prospect of becoming a mother for the first time. Everything seemed right in my world, in my life, and within myself. I was happy and healthy -- physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

I have struggled for most of my life with feeling broken. I've been broken because of bullying, low self-esteem, a lifetime of obesity, emotional abuse, mental illness (my own and that of close family), self-injury, suicidal thoughts and attempts, and spiritual wounds. When I met Gray and our friendship began, I was on my journey to the Catholic Church. As I went along that path, I began to see those spiritual wounds being healed and in Gray, I found a kind of love and acceptance that was a balm to many of my emotional hurts and scars. When we married, I felt a sense of wholeness that I hadn't ever thought possible -- and yet, there remained pieces of me that were broken, although I didn't see it at the time.

Those broken pieces have sharp, jagged edges that continue to cut me apart and tear at my desires to be truly whole. Despite my journey to Catholicism, I've had some of those old spiritual wound scars be reopened in the last three years by circumstances and situations out of my control. Thankfully, Fr. B, my spiritual director, has been helping me -- slowly though it seems to go -- to get at the deeper roots of those spiritual wounds so that I can find not just healing for the superficial tears in my spirit, but a deeper spiritual wholeness.

Emotionally, I am definitely a long way from whole. I've struggled mightily with this task that I felt the Holy Spirit set before me to read and meditate on the Psalms each day and write about it in this blog. Some of that is due to spiritual healing that still needs to take place, but a lot of it is that my brain and body are so tired from fighting depression constantly for the last three years that I have many days that I do good to just be awake and vertical instead of in bed.

I want to be whole again. I want to enjoy my life again. I want to have hope that I can be whole someday. Right now it's not all darkness, but what light I see at the end of the tunnel is a tiny pinprick that is so far away that I cannot fathom the distance. It might as well not be there at all as far away as it is. But that tiny pinprick is what keeps me alive. When I can see it, I can think of the possibility of wholeness. When I can't, then I can't see wholeness for anyone and all seems lost. So I focus on that pinprick of light and keep following my big brother Chez's advice to put one foot in front of the other.

Maybe one day, I'll step out of this dark tunnel and emerge through that pinprick into the light of wholeness. With my luck, that won't be in this life, but will only happen once I've shuffled off this mortal coil. I suppose there is actually truth in that statement. I mean as humans, we're all broken by sin and our broken and sinful world. We may do our best to rid ourselves of sin, but we still fall victim to the sins of others and the messed up way the world works because of the effects of original sin. The only cure for the messiness of our sin sick world and its effects on all of us is Jesus. He is with us, of course, via the Holy Spirit and in the Eucharist, but I don't think this world will get much better until He comes again. So maybe wholeness in this life is something to be sought after, but not to be received until He comes again.

I don't know. I don't have all the answers. I just know what my heart yearns for -- to be fully and completely whole in Him.

Psalm 17

I call upon You, for You will answer me, O God; incline Your ear to me, hear my words. Wondrously show Your steadfast love, O Saviour of those who seek refuge from their adversaries at Your right hand. Guard me as the apple of the eye; hide me in the shadow of Your wings, from the wicked who despoil me, my deadly enemies who surround me. (verses 6-9)

This passage from Psalm 17 is really the heart of what it's all about. The subtitle that my devotional Bible has for this chapter says "Prayer for Deliverance from Persecutors." As I've mentioned before, I don't have anyone who is actively persecuting me among the human beings on this earth, but there are definitely supernatural forces at work which seek to actively persecute, oppress, and attack all Christians.

It can be a situation where one is tempted to sin. It could also be being tempted to turn away from God totally. It could be some kind of physical, mental, emotional, or spiritual affliction that causes the Christian to fall into despair or just makes it so that they are unable to do the work God has set for them to do. In very serious cases, when a person is already dealing with a non-spiritually caused physical or psychological illness, it could even cause death if the person loses hope and neglects caring for the illness. Satan loves to kick us when were already down.

I've definitely been through that with depression and PTSD. Fr. B told me a few weeks back that he believes that my depression has both psychological and spiritual causes that are at the root of why this episode has hung on for so long. I agree with him completely. Depression is something I've dealt with for 28 years on and off in episodes, but none of the episodes has even begun to approach the intensity, severity, and duration of this one. There have been a number of other things about this episode that have been markedly different from previous ones too and looking back on those moments and symptoms, I can see a spiritual element in them.

As I've mentioned before, there has been some healing going on in both the psychological and spiritual areas of this for me. Spiritually speaking, the very fact that I don't immediately want to throw my Bible across the room upon reading the passage from Psalm 17 quoted above is quite a bit of progress. Passages like that -- that is to say, ones that are imbued with such hopefulness -- have been something that I haven't been able to stomach reading, much less actually believing, for nearly three years.

I'll be honest, as much as I can read it now, I'm still struggling to truly believe that He will hide me under His wings and keep me as the apple of His eye. I want to believe that He does hear when I call on Him, but I'm not totally there yet. There's still a part of me that snorts inwardly with disbelief upon reading passages like that. I am still very much wounded and weak. That's where trust comes in though. I have to trust -- at least cognitively -- that what His word says is true.

I'll admit, I'm still a bit of a hard sell. It's a process that involves lots of tiny steps forward and quite a few backward. Right now, as much as I want to be moving forward in that, I find that I feel as though I'm moving backward a bit. Even if, for now, it's not the direction I want to be going, at least I'm moving and that's something.

Until next time....

Pax Christi!

Psalm 16

Today's psalm is one about trusting in God. Gosh, there's that theme again. Trust in God. In this particular instance, it's about resting secure in God's protection and love. Can I be honest? I still struggle with this one. The last couple of days have been hard for me as my seemingly ever-constant companion depression has reared its ugly head. Whenever that happens, it makes it difficult to feel so secure and loved by God.

The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup; you hold my lot. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; I have a goodly heritage. (verses 5-6)

This is about the most true part of this psalm for me. I have chosen the Lord and the place where I dwell is pleasant inasmuch as I know the love of family and friends. I am also deeply grateful for the heritage I have from my upbringing and the faith of my ancestors who guarded and passed down the flame of faith to each successive generation. Because I have chosen the Lord, I know He will provide for me and my family and there is -- despite my struggles -- security in that.

I bless the Lord who gives me counsel; in the night also my heart instructs me. I keep the Lord always before me; because He is at my right hand, I shall not be moved. Therefore my heart is glad, and my soul rejoices; my body also rests secure. For You do not give me up to Sheol, or let Your faithful one see the Pit. You show me the path of life. In Your presence there is fullness of joy; in Your right hand are pleasures forevermore. (verses 7-11)

I have to admit that the past three years have made this part of the psalm harder for me. I've been plodding my way along the path, trying to remain obedient and faithful, but depression clouds my ability to hear His counsel and the nightmares definitely keep me from resting secure. The struggles with these illnesses also tend to make it harder to stand firm and not be moved.

The hardest of all, when it comes to depression and the practice of faith, is that last verse. When the darkness drags you down so low that you just want it to go ahead and swallow you whole, it makes it even harder to experience what the psalmist seems to experience so easily -- joy. I'll be honest and say that for me, joy in the Lord is something that I haven't experienced in a very long time. Even with all the spiritual healing that has taken place, joy is elusive and appears absent. Perhaps one day I will experience that joy again. I suppose I just need to trust in God and His timing.

Until next time...

Pax Christi!

Psalm 15

There are quite a few psalms that echo one another and this is one such psalm. When I first read it, a worship song called "Who Will Ascend" from my years in the Vineyard movement came almost immediately into my head. That particular song is based on Psalm 24, but as I looked at the cross reference notes, I discovered that Psalm 24 is, in part, an echo of Psalm 15:

O Lord, who may abide in your tent? Who may dwell on your holy hill? Those who walk blamelessly, and do what is right, and speak the truth from their heart; who do not slander with their tongue, and do no evil to their friends, nor take up a reproach against their neighbors; in whose eyes the wicked are despised, but who honor those who fear the Lord; who stand by their oath even to their hurt; who do not lend money at interest,  and do not take a bribe against the innocent. Those who do these things shall never be moved. - Psalm 15

The psalmist is most certainly referring to the Temple of the Lord on earth and is writing about the kind of behaviour which is expected of those who present themselves to the Lord in His Temple. Obviously, this can also be seen as a metaphor for heaven. God is, of course, omnipresent, but we are bound by our humanity to one place at a time during this life. Once we die, we exist outside of time as God does and if we have died in His friendship, then we will dwell on His "holy hill" -- that is to say, heaven -- for all eternity.

That said, looking at this list of things, it seems a bit daunting. To walk blamelessly is to live completely righteously. How on earth do we manage that one? I know I'm not nearly as righteous as I want or need to be. To do what is right is another thing the psalmist lists. Do you happen to do the right thing absolutely all the time? I know I don't. To speak the truth, not slander others, to despise wickedness (that is, sin), and to honour holiness are all part of the list and I can honestly say that I have done the exact opposite of those on numerous occasions.

So how do we get to a place where we can be blameless before the Lord when we die? The easy answer is that we must put our faith in Jesus and do everything He commands us to do in His word. The two biggest commands are to love God with all our heart, mind, soul, and strength and to love our neighbour as ourselves. Neither of those is easy, but both are required. We simply cannot neglect them.

But no one is perfect and while we ought to aim for being perfect as the Father is perfect, we will fall short of that mark. When we fail Him, we must confess our failings, repent from our sin, and make a firm amendment to sin no more. As Pope Francis said, the name of God is mercy and when we come to Him, He is faithful to forgive us because of His great mercy. No matter how many times we fall off the wagon, we must turn back to Him again and again and seek His mercy. He, like the father of the prodigal son, sees us when we are far off and comes running to meet us, arms thrown wide to embrace us, forgive us, and celebrate that we are home once more.

To reach God's holy hill is a journey and one where we must daily put our faith in Him anew, confess our faults, and receive His mercy. That daily confession of our faith in Him and making amends for when we stumble is how we learn to see His face more clearly and eventually, with perseverance to the end, receive the prize for which we are striving.

Until next time...

Pax Christi!

Catching Up and Psalm 14

It's been quite a few days since my last Psalm post. I had intended to do one post each day as a part of my promise to God to read through the Psalms, write meditations on them, and post them here on my blog. If you've been following along and reading, my apologies for not keeping up better. Last week was Holy Week and with all the activity on top of the regular day to day stuff, writing these meditations kinda got shunted down toward the bottom of my priority list in favour of being able to rest properly. So, I'm back at it again, trying to do one each day. Here's my thoughts on Psalm 14.

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Psalm 14

Fools say in their hearts, "There is no God." They are corrupt, they do abominable deeds; there is no one who does good. The Lord looks down from heaven on human kind to see if there are any who are wise, who seek after God. They have all gone astray, they are all alike perverse; there is no one who does good, no not one. (Psalm 14:1-3)

"There is no one who does good." Wow. That's a kind of heavy statement. No one? All have gone astray? It paints a rather bleak picture of humanity. And as bleak as it is, I have to admit that the psalmist has it right. All of us are kinda messed up. I know I am.

I don't mean messed up in the sense of having issues or problems, but rather as in being prone to sin rather than virtue. I will echo St. Paul here: "The saying is sure and worthy of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners -- of whom I am the foremost." (1 Timothy 1:15) In other words, I suck and I know it. It's part of the lovely human condition that we inherited from Adam and Eve: original sin. We are washed free of the stain of that original sin in our baptism, but our concupiscence -- that is to say our basest appetites which often run contrary to what reason tells us we ought to do -- remains. It is this temptation to ignore what we know is the right thing to do that leads us into sin. It's why all of us go astray in one way or another.

Obviously the psalmist is speaking about a specific group of people he sees who are foolish enough to deny God and turn away from Him or do evil against the righteous, but I think it's particularly interesting that St. Paul references this Psalm in Romans 3. He begins that chapter talking about the Jews' special status that is promised to them by God's fidelity despite the various infidelities committed by the Jewish people throughout history. Then he goes on to say that we are all under the bondage of sin (Romans 3:9) and then references this Psalm in verses 10-12 to emphasize the point.

As I said, it sounds like a pretty bleak kind of thing to say that no one is good or does good, but it's true that we are a messed up bunch of sinners. So why try to do the right thing? Why not give ourselves over to total debauchery and depravity if nothing we do is good?

Because despite our sinfulness and inability to totally resist the temptation to sin, we who are in Christ have the gift of grace and that grace is what saves us. It is what helps us overcome temptation and choose to do good. It helps us grow in holiness on this earth so that one day, when we stand before Christ, He will judge our deeds as righteousness and say to us, "Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your Master."

That's the goal -- to get to heaven. Part of getting to heaven is to do everything that He commands of us (Matthew 28:20) and that means cooperating with God's grace to resist sin, to do good works, and to persevere in faith until the end.

Is it easy? No, definitely not. Is it worth it? Without a doubt.

Until next time...

Pax Christi!