Day Two: Tell

This blog post is part of my 2017 Write 31 Days blog series 31 Reflections on Mental Health and Illness. To read the whole series, click here for the series index page.

When it comes to caring for your mental health, in my opinion, there's no more important thing than today's prompt. One of the lies that a mental illness will tell you is that you are totally alone in your struggles and that if you tell someone about what you're feeling or thinking, no one will care or believe you or they'll think less of you. This is often a hard lie to overcome, but it is an absolute requirement that you overcome it. If you don't tell someone, it won't have even a prayer of getting better. Once you overcome this, you've taken your first step on the road toward healing and health. With that in mind, here are three "tells" that are helpful as you journey forward.

1. Tell a licensed professional therapist or counsellor.

Talking to a friend or family member about what you're feeling is a great first step and it will help to a certain degree. We all need friends and family around us who are willing to listen when we need to vent, but if you're struggling with mental illness, just venting isn't going to be quite enough. A counsellor provides a neutral, non-judgmental, and outside perspective on what you're going through. They can also see things that you (and your friends or family) may not be capable of seeing due to their education and experience. Finally, a counsellor or therapist can refer you to a psychiatrist if you need medication, a psychologist for testing or more focused treatment, or other helpful resources that apply to your situation. A counsellor isn't there to tell you what to do or fix the issue for you. They are there to listen, offer perspective and insights, and guide you toward helping yourself.

Oh, and if you need to vent, they are there for that too. I have lots of people I can vent to, but there is something quite different about venting to my therapist inasmuch as I can say absolutely whatever comes into my head without fear of judgment. For his part, he often replies to my venting with something that brings about a new insight for me or helps me process whatever I'm venting about in a way that a friend or family member just can't do.

2. Tell someone if you are having thoughts of suicide.

This one is an absolute MUST. I cannot stress the importance of this one enough.

If you are thinking of killing yourself -- even if it's just a fleeting thought that goes away -- tell someone about it. It doesn't really matter who you tell, so long as you tell someone. Thoughts of suicide are serious and I want you to keep living. You can tell:

• a friend 
• a family member
• a therapist/counsellor
• a doctor or nurse
• a minister 
• a coworker
• a police officer or firefighter
• or even a stranger. 

So what if you don't feel comfortable telling anyone in your day to day real life because you're afraid of being judged or of what will happen to you if you confess those thoughts? You can tell someone and remain anonymous.

• In the US, you can call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255) or you can go to their website and use their online chat to talk to someone about those thoughts. 
• If you don't want to talk to someone on the phone or via online chat, you can also text. Just text the word HELP or TALK or HELLO to the Crisis Text Line at 741-741 and a trained crisis counsellor will text with you about what you're feeling. 

I keep both of these numbers stored in my phone contacts so that if I'm struggling and need an immediate listening ear, I don't have remember them or look them up in the moment. I would encourage you to do the same or at least jot them down on something to put in your wallet or purse.
 
3. Tell your story.

This one may seem counter-intuitive, but trust me. Telling your story can be incredibly helpful and healing. Despite the fact that we are talking about issues surrounding mental health and mental illness more than ever these days, we still have a long way to go toward eliminating the stigma that surrounds this subject in our society. People remain very shy and secretive about the fact that they have struggled with depression or anxiety. They worry about what others will think about them if they know or they consider it a "personal" matter that isn't something that they feel comfortable sharing with anyone. They may get treatment for it, but they do it quietly and perhaps no one ever knows, but them and their tightest inner circle.

Besides getting treatment, one of the best things I ever did for myself was to start writing about my struggles with mental illness. It was really hard when I began sharing openly about depression, anxiety, PTSD, struggles with my faith, etc. but the more I have shared, the more I have begun to understand how much it helps me. Eventually, I wrote a public declaration of the fact that I will no longer remain silent about my struggles with mental illness. I shared that one blog post as far and as wide as I could. I asked others to consider sharing it too. I am convinced that if more of us were completely vulnerable with each other, then in time, the stigma would be significantly reduced to almost nothing and those who struggle would realise that they are not alone and would feel comfortable getting the help they need.

This is why I encourage you to tell your story to the world. You need not blog about it or share it all over Facebook. You can start small by telling a friend, coworker, neighbour, or acquaintance that you've never confided in about your struggles. You can join a mental health advocacy group and tell your story to those in the group. Of course, you can blog about it too. For me, telling my story has involved all of those and by and large, it has had a real healing effect on me. There is something incredibly powerful about bringing your struggles into the light which makes you stronger and the illness weaker. By giving voice to your pain and mental health struggles, you also encourage others who may be fighting their illness without help to know that they are not alone and that help is available. It may be hard (and it's still hard for me sometimes), but I know you can do it!

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!

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)!

Psalm 10

Today's psalm reminds me so much of the book When Bad Things Happen to Good People by Rabbi Harold S. Kushner. I'll be honest that I haven't read the book, but I remember some years ago that a friend recommended it to me when I was struggling with depression and wondering why I had to suffer when there were so many others around me who were doing all the wrong things who didn't suffer.

I don't believe for a minute that I'm a good person. I'm a sinner. I'm a big, fat, grievous sinner who hurts God's heart on a daily basis. I do my best to avoid sin, but sometimes it finds me even if I'm not looking for it. Anyhow, I am far from "good" but I am trying to be good. Actually, my aim is to be perfect as the Father is perfect (Matthew 5:48). That said, I understand why my friend recommended this book. I imagine that the author probably quotes this psalm or perhaps another like it. Look at this passage:

Their ways prosper at all times; Your judgments are on high, out of their sight; as for their foes, they scoff at them. They think in their heart, "We shall not be moved; throughout all generations we shall not meet adversity." (verses 5-6)

The psalmist is talking here about the wicked. He's accusing God of being so far away that the wicked are not able to hear His judgments upon them and his proof is that the wicked are prospering in everything they do. He goes on to talk about how they persecute and prey upon the poor, curse their enemies and the like and that they have confidence that nothing ill will befall them.

How many times have you met people like this?

To be honest, there is a particular presidential candidate at the moment who seems to fit this bill. Despite all his ravings, outrageous comments, and behaviour that would earn most people a ticket to the hospital in a straight jacket -- he seems to continue to gain momentum and support like wildfire.  I confess that I am dumbfounded at times as to how on earth any sane person could possibly think he is a viable candidate for the office of President of the United States. While I'm not alone in my bewilderment over this, the sheer amount of support he seems to be garnering is frightening and makes me very scared for what could happen if he eventually wins in November. There have been times when I've wondered where God is in all of this. A couple of years ago, I would have likely thought God totally absent and deaf due to my own anger at Him, but thankfully, I've moved past that. These days I am able to say, "Lord, I can't see Your plan, but I trust in You."

The psalmist -- after he's vented his spleen about how awful things are and how the wicked prosper and while those who follow God suffer -- seems to come to the same place where I'm at these days:

But You do see! Indeed You note trouble and grief, that You may take it into Your hands; the helpless commit themselves to You; You have been the helper of the orphan. (verse 14).........O Lord, You will hear the desire of the meek; You will strengthen their heart, You will incline Your ear to do justice for the orphan and the oppressed, so that those from earth may strike terror no more. (verses 17-18)

And that's what it really boils down to in the end. Even if we can't see His plan, He really does see. He really is fighting for those who trust in Him. He really does have a plan and He is working that plan despite our inability to see it. When bad things happen to good people, the most fruitful thing we can do is trust in Him.

It's hard, I know. I've been there, done that, got half a dozen or more t-shirts. It's not your first inclination either. It may not be your second or third or two hundred and thirty third and that's okay. It's okay to be angry and tell Him. It's okay to struggle and wonder where He is in the midst of your darkest hour when He appears to be silent and nowhere to be seen. It's okay to be angry that you're struggling and trying to have faith and it seems like no matter what you do, nothing is changing or getting better. All of these things are a-okay.

Here's the challenge though -- stay the course. When you're struggling and you want to give up on God, keep putting one foot in front of the other. That sounds like stupid and ridiculously simple advice, but the image is powerful. It's something my big brother Chez said to me nearly three years ago. We were having a conversation about how hard everything was and how mad I was at God and how I wanted to just give up altogether and leave this life. After much back and forth, I told him I knew suicide wasn't the answer but I just didn't know how to go on anymore. His advice to me was to just keep putting one foot in front of the other.

After that, every time I struggled, those words and the image they evoke would come into my mind. As with most advice, it's easier said than done, but holding onto that image of just staying the course helped me hold onto sanity and reality many times. I continue to keep doing this because it's only by persevering little by little, breathing in and out, moving forward into the next moment, and staying focused on using my energy to put the foot that is behind to the front that I will ever get where I want to go.

This is especially true of faith. So put your trust in Him and when you can't see His plan or how to move forward in faith, continue to do the routine things you already do -- go to Mass or church services, pray, read scripture, engage in fellowship with your faith community -- so that you stay on the path and stay moving toward Him. Your feelings may tell You that He is far away or that You have wandered far from Him but remember, feelings are not always a good barometer of what is reality and what is a lie. You may feel far away, but He is always there and if you're making a conscious effort to at least do something to persevere in faith, He will reward your efforts in His own perfect time.

You may think I'm full of hot air, but I've been there. I've been there for a long time. In some ways, I'm still struggling with my faith and I definitely still struggle with putting my trust firmly in Him. Be encouraged that if you are struggling violently, you are not alone. The wicked may seem to be winning and God may be nowhere you can see Him, but He is with you -- and so am I. I'm praying for you, whoever you may be. If you need a friend to pray with you or encourage you, email me. Just click the link on the sidebar.

Until next time...

Pax Christi!

A Few Links for Wednesday

I don't often pass along links, but I save them a lot. Facebook is a place where I find a number of them. If you're on Facebook, did you know that you can save links? It's super easy. Just click (or tap if you're on your phone) the little arrow in the upper right hand corner of the post containing the link and select "save link." It will add the link to your "Saved" page. Then you can go back and look at your links at your leisure. I use this all the time when I run across something that looks interesting, but I don't have time to really read it or look at it right that moment. You can also use this feature to save pictures, videos, and posts (yours or others' posts) to look at later. I love it for all those yummy looking recipe videos that are floating around on Facebook. Anyhow, here's a few links that I've found recently that I thought you might enjoy having a look at. It's a hodgepodge of stuff, but life is a bit of a hodgepodge as well, right?

1. Catholics routinely make the sign of the cross at the beginning and ending of prayers, during Mass, and as a part of other rituals and rites. If you don't understand what it means, it can seem an empty gesture, but the reality is that it's full of meaning. This short video (only 2 minutes, 35 seconds) explains three awesome things that this gesture means.

If you're interested in learning more, this article "21 Things We Do When We Make the Sign of the Cross" from Catholic Exchange is a great list of things that the sign means. Even if you aren't Catholic, I highly encourage you to give either the video or article a look. It's really interesting stuff and will give you a greater understanding of this beautiful gesture of Catholic faith.

2. Since I have quite a few friends who, like me, have kids, I've seen this a few times, but it is really neat. It's a video that shows you how to make your own watercolour paints! Seriously. That is SO cool! I haven't tried it yet, but I really want to give it a whirl and see how they come out. It looks really easy and involves ingredients that most folks already on hand in their kitchen. I could see this also being something fun for grandparents, aunts/uncles, babysitters, or teachers to try. Crafty!

Homemade Watercolors
Posted by Skillshare on Tuesday, February 2, 2016

3. I am an unabashed Anglophile and Hibernophile. This means I really, really love most things that are British or Irish. :) Tea is one of my favourite things and it is so perfectly British and Irish that it might as well be a part of their collective DNA. It's so ubiquitous that they sometimes don't even bother saying "tea" at all, but will instead say to you, "Let's have a cuppa. I'll put the kettle on." Many British offices have tea trollies which are a cart that's pushed around the office so you can grab a cuppa and a biscuit (that would be a cookie to us Americans) for your break or to enjoy at your desk. People drink it black, with lemon, white (with milk), and with or without sugar. A particularly British thing is what many Americans refer to as either "afternoon tea" or "high tea." These are used interchangeably, but did you know they're not necessarily the same thing? This brief article highlights the similarities and differences. A word of caution though: it's likely to make you crave a cuppa and some scones! Here's the Difference Between Afternoon Tea and High Tea!

4. Because I love a good recipe, how about some Samoa Brownies? Om, nom, nom, NOM!!! A friend posted this on FB and I had to save it. They look so delectable and like they'd be pretty easy to make. Here's a picture of the finished product, courtesy of the blog Incredible Recipes from Heaven:

And of course, the link to the recipe! The blog post has step by step pictures to make it easier to see what it should look like as you go alone. Mmmmm....

5. And finally, but, I think probably the most important link of all, this link of a letter "To the Husband With the Wife Who Has Depression" If you don't look at any of the other links on this page, please give this a read. It is written from the perspective of the wife struggling with depression to her husband. I could have written every single word. As I read it, I found myself getting teary-eyed and choked up. So much of the thoughts in it resonate with me and my experience. It expresses not only how hard things are for the wife, but what she needs from her husband in the way of support and understanding. One thing that is different from my experience is that Gray actually knows all of this. I am so incredibly grateful that he does, so I posted this to my FB timeline and tagged him. I also added the following note to him:

I love you so much for knowing all this, for holding me fast through the darkest hours, for helping me grow beyond the place where I stay silent all the time, for being my safe place to fall when I do find reaching out hard, for all the sacrifices you've made for me both big and small, and for loving me mind, body, and soul with the love of Christ. I could say all this a thousand times a day and it wouldn't be enough to adequately express how grateful I am that God joined us together or how deeply I love you. You are my heart and my beloved. Always. xoxoxo 

Hope you've enjoyed one or more of these links! I'll share a few more another time. Have a great Wednesday!

A Final Update on Write and Follow

It's just a few hours until the new year begins here and on that note, I thought I'd do a little year-end wrap up and reflection. Last year at this time, I was trying to figure out (as I am now) my "word" for the year. The idea is that you take that word as a kind of reminder to yourself of something you want to do or achieve in the next year or as a reminder of a goal you've been working toward or perhaps something you need to do in order to better yourself. I noodled over it for several days prior to December 31, 2014 and finally came up with my first of what would be two words for 2015:

My goal with this word was to encourage myself to write in this blog and elsewhere more often. In August of 2014, I started this blog anew with the aim of trying to help myself with my depression. I had a goal back then that I was going to write at least some little something each day so that I could develop a habit of writing. Well, that didn't exactly pan out, but through that goal, I found the Write 31 Days challenge in late September and participated in it throughout the month of October. I wrote for 31 days straight about my journey through the darkness of depression and while it wasn't the easiest thing for me to do, it wound up being helpful both in my therapy sessions (gave me and Pendragon lots to write about) and outside the therapy sessions as I mulled over different things and tried to process more deeply some of my experiences.

As 2014 drew to a close, I realized that all that writing had been really beneficial to my mental health in a number of ways. That was one of the biggest reasons that I was drawn to the word "write" as my word for 2015. I wanted to keep that momentum going. I also began sensing that the direction of my blog was changing a bit to encompass more than just my Catholic faith and my vocation of marriage and motherhood. I wanted to continue to talk about mental health topics and even explore my own experiences with depression and PTSD in the hope that it might help others understand those things a bit more. So last New Year's Eve as I was going through the day, I was more or less settled on that word.

And then we went to Mass for the Vigil of the Solemnity of Mary the Mother of God and the Holy Spirit threw a cog into my perfect little plan to focus on "write."

As we sat there in Mass and listened to the pastor's homily, he spoke about how Mary had followed God's plan for her and been totally submissive to His desire that she become the Mother of the Word Incarnate. When he said that, the word "follow" jumped out at me. For the rest of Mass, I couldn't get it out of my head. My heart has always been to follow God wherever He leads and to pursue Him with everything in me, but the past almost 3 years have been beyond hard. They have shaken my faith to its very core. 

My faith has been stripped bare of everything that made me comfortable in it -- joy, hope, purpose, emotional closeness, awe and wonder, inspiration, peace, strength -- all of it. All that was left to me was cold, naked words of scripture, the tenets and requirements of my faith, the traditions of the Church, and a particular grace of an obedient heart (which I didn't see for a long time as anything worth celebrating or being grateful for). I felt abandoned by God and I was fiercely angry with Him for a very long time. By the end of 2014 though, after almost 2 years of this, I knew that I needed to start taking responsibility for finding my way back to God.

When I heard the pastor say "follow" I knew that I couldn't ignore the nudge in my spirit. So despite having already chosen "write" I began to consider that maybe I needed to choose "follow" as my word. I wrestled with it until about 10:30pm that night when I finally gave in and said, "Okay God." That crazy grace of obedience just won't leave me alone! As I acquiesced to the Holy Spirit, I felt a bit sad to leave "write" by the wayside. I thought for a moment that perhaps I'd just resolve to write more anyway and then it hit me: I didn't have to give up "write" as a word for 2015. I could have two words! I admit it might have been a little crazy to take on two words, but I just knew that it was exactly right for me.

So how did those two words work out?

Well, not too badly, I think. I had wanted to write at least 1-3 blog posts each week and while there were some weeks that I didn't even make 1 post, as of the publishing of this post, I'll have 74 posts this year and that works out to 1.5 or so per week AND I managed to write at least 1 post each month. That may not sound like a lot, but that's much more consistent than I've ever been with writing, so way to go me!

As for follow, that one took a bit longer to get rolling with in 2015. I continued to do what I had been doing with regard to going to Mass and confession, but over the spring and summer months, I upped the ante a bit. Our long time family friend, Fr. B, was moved to a parish closer to us (he had previously been almost a 2 hour drive away) and we visited him some in the spring time and then began going there almost exclusively over the summer. When we first visited him, he sensed that I wasn't myself and told me to email him and we'd get together and talk. That was the beginning of several meetings which led to him becoming my spiritual director.

He and I would talk for a bit and then pray together. Many times he would pray over me -- prayers of deliverance, praying the Psalms, or just spontaneous prayer that pretty much always reduced me to a sobbing mess. Our meetings almost always included a chance for me to receive the graces of the Sacrament of Reconciliation (confession), the Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick, and the Holy Eucharist as well. Finally, as my penance he would assign me the task of going over to the church (we always started in his office in the rectory) and spending some time there alone in the presence of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. The first time he assigned me that penance, he said, "It doesn't have to be long, just 10-15 minutes. However long you can stay. Stay as long as you want." That very first time I wound up there for an entire hour before I realized that much time had passed. I spent that hour in silent prayer, crying, singing hymns, sobbing as I lay prostrate before the altar, praying and begging Him to heal me, crying some more, and finally pulling myself together before leaving the church.

After each of those meetings and my time alone (always an hour, sometimes nearly two) with Jesus, I would find myself feeling exhausted and just spent, but strangely more at peace than I had been before I came. Little by little, I began to have tiny moments of feeling something other than the stark wasteland of nothingness that I had come to associate with my faith. It would be a brief moment at Mass or something that someone said or something I read that would touch me ever so briefly. These days I still feel that nothingness a lot and to be honest, I still feel angry at God at times (particularly when the dark menace of depression is heaviest), and I still cry buckets at Mass (did that tonight, actually), but something has shifted, albeit the tiniest bit; it is enough that I can sense the change. I can't quite articulate what is different or how it is, but I know that I feel a bit different this New Year's Eve with regard to my faith than I did last year. So that's progress and a very good thing indeed.

What about a word for 2016? 

Well, I've been thinking about it for a couple of weeks and there have been a few that have popped into my head. One of the biggest ones has been to do with my health. The things is, I'm way overweight for my height and age. Actually, quite truthfully, I am obese. I have been for years. Well, my sister-in-law has been on a quest for better health for herself this past year and she has really done well for herself. She's continuing in her quest to move more and eat healthy in the new year and has added the goal of quitting smoking (you can do it, sestra!!!) and I'm so excited for her. I know she's going to have another amazing year of achieving her goals and getting even more healthy.

To be honest, she's really inspired me to make some changes for myself. I may add things as the year goes along, but my biggest goal is going to be to move more -- specifically, to get myself walking on a regular basis. You may remember that I participated in the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention's Out of the Darkness Overnight walk in Boston this past summer. Well, it wasn't nearly as much fun for me as it could have been because I was really out of shape and unprepared going into it. This coming year I'm participating in the walk again. It's going to be in New York City! Woohoo! I have never been there and I'm looking forward to it, but I know I need to be in better shape and better prepared to actually do the work of the walking the 16-18 miles that it entails. So......without further ado, my NEW word for 2016 is.......

To be honest friends, that word is a little scary to me because of what it means to me. It means I've got to get off my duff and really start moving more. But what's a new year without new challenges or a goal or two, right? I also decided that I'm going to hold on to my words from 2015 for another year. I know, I know. You're probably not supposed to do that, but just like last year when I took on two words instead of one, I'm breaking the rules again this year. I'm keeping my old words. I'm just not ready to give up "write" or "follow" just yet. I feel like I have a lot more to do with those words and that a lot of it is going to be in this next year. Not entirely sure why I feel that way, but maybe it's the Holy Spirit? :) Anyhow, that brings my grand total for 2016 to THREE words. Holy cow! I may be a bit mental, but I really think that it's what I'm supposed to do. So, to recap....

Oh, and M2, who is sitting over my shoulder wants me to let you know that she was the one who had the idea for the word "Move" to be in a white font and for the background to be coloured instead of black and white like I had originally planned. I told her she ought to be a graphic designer because she has a good eye for colour and balance. Love that girl!

A Different Experience of Grace

After over a month of not writing anything, the last thing I thought I'd be blogging about is grace. To be honest, in this dark sojourn of the last two and a half years, I have shied away from writing about the subject. I talk about it occasionally with my sweet hubby Gray and the subject comes up quite a lot with my dear friend and “big brother” Chez, but I just can't seem to make myself write about it.

I believe in grace. Actually, I believe that it is God's gift of grace which saves us. I have had many encounters in my life with grace, but something about the deep heavy darkness of so long a trek through depression's valley has soured my desire to share much of anything with regard to faith, much less, grace. To be honest, I've been so angry at God and have had my faith shaken so profoundly, that there were times I wanted nothing to do with Him or the practice of faith at all. I even considered for a time turning my back on my faith altogether.

A Quick Update

It's halfway through August and I haven't written anything. There are several reasons why, but the biggest one is the one that underlies the rest of them.

Any confidence I had that what I write is any good or that it makes any difference has been shaken so hard that I wonder if I will ever get it back.

I think it began with a bad week of depression, but what really made me really begin to doubt myself and my abilities was a poorly timed weekend surrounded by writers who are well ahead of me on the writing path and whose voices are far different than my own. There was also a single moment in that weekend that made me feel like a total failure as a writer and like I was just a little bit smaller and more worthless as a person. The other writers were mostly really great folks and I made a couple of new friends, but my biggest takeaway from the weekend is that I am only deluding myself that I am a writer.

So I've written posts, but I can't bring myself to finish most of them or publish any of them. None of them sound right to my ears. They seem to lack coherence and anything worth reading. They all scream at me, "You are NOT a writer!"

I keep trying to write and the drafts of posts keeps piling up. Every time I open Blogger, it is a bit more depressing. Quite honestly, I feel like crying even as I write this. Even this confession seems not quite good enough.

I don't know why I'm writing this except that I haven't written anything in over half a month. I was contemplating doing the Write 31 Days challenge in October, but it seems pointless given that I'm also contemplating ending this blog and hanging up my writing hat altogether. This isn't just really bad writer's block. It's a total lack of confidence that what I'm doing with this blog is worth continuing.

Lull

This is part of my prompts series from the blog The Habit of Being. Each of the posts in this series will feature the prompt for that post as the post title. While I may sometimes use the current day's prompt, it is more likely that I will pick and choose as inspiration dictates. If you are interested in following along with the prompts or writing some of your own, here's the link to the page with the prompts: http://thehabitofbeing.com/writealm/

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The huge oak tree in fairer weather.

The huge oak tree sways,
Its stately limbs stretching skyward
Side to side, they fan in the heavy breeze.
The air, thick with water
Hot and heavy, despite gusts of wind.
Clouds above hang pendulous
And ever darkening from gray to patchy ash to soot
Plump with the promise of rain soon to come
And the pleasant smell of petrichor when the rain has ceased.
My hair whips around my face
Strands catch my nose, lips, slightly open mouth
As I assess the sky for signs
Of more than the rumbles of thunder and streaky lightning.
Girls rush inside to escape rain.
My feet follow theirs
Fingers flicking the TV on for more learned advice.
The littlest bear crawls into my lap
Seeking snuggles and my voice to read stories.
My lips find her soft hair and
We rock together through "Guess How Much I Love You"
Her sisters retreated to their room
And in the quiet, the sound of falling rain.
I gaze down, see steady breaths
The little bear has fallen asleep
Lulled deep by raindrops, rocking, and reading,
Her sweet curls moving gently in the ceiling fan's cool breeze.
In the lull between wind and water.
In the lull, my eyes close to rest a moment
And fully feel the weight of sleep against my torso
Keeping this rare moment of quiet close to my heart
Before the lull between chaos and chaos ends.

My littlest bear, GB, sound asleep on the sofa.

Halcyon

This is part of my April prompts series from the blog The Habit of Being. Each of the posts in this series will feature the prompt for that post as the post title. While I may sometimes use the current day's prompt, it is more likely that I will pick and choose as inspiration dictates. If you are interested in following along with the prompts or writing some of your own, here's the link to the page with April's prompts: http://thehabitofbeing.com/writealm/

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M2 and AB, ages 4.5 and 3.5, enjoying the fading sunlight at the beach in 2011.

I had to look this one up. I've heard the word and know how it's used, but wanted to be sure I was doing it justice. To that end, a quick Google of the definition reveals the following:

halcyon (adj) -- describes a period of time in the past that was idyllically happy and peaceful

A Little Something Different

The next couple of weeks are going to be a bit on the busy side with various things of life, so to that end, I am going to be using some prompts. I found a wonderful set of word prompts for April courtesy of a fellow blogger I found on Pinterest whose blog is called The Habit of Being. The full set of prompts for April can be found at http://thehabitofbeing.com/writealm/ if you're interested.

I'll still be participating in the Five Minute Friday community on Fridays and will try to post some other things as inspiration strikes and time permits. One project that is in the works for this Easter season is my conversion story. I have mentioned several times that I'm a convert to Catholicism and that I want to share that story with you, but have yet to put it all down. My goal is to have that finished and posted by Pentecost Sunday.

Finally, a brief update on my #oneword365 words for 2015. So far, I have managed to write at least 1 entry per week and most weeks at least 2 per week. There have been a couple of weeks when I've missed writing an entry, but for the most part, I've managed to "follow" through with my goal to "write" more consistently. The other part of "follow" is that I wanted to continue to follow through with some goals, follow up on some things that have been neglected for a while, and continue to follow Him with perseverance despite my struggles of mental health and how it has shaken my faith. The last one has been a real test for me, but I have managed to continue to do what I need to and have even had some moments where I feel as though my following Him hasn't been in vain. I suppose that's a positive thing.

For now, I need to move my feet and follow them upstairs to bed. It is the wee hours of the morning and my bed is calling me.

Spy Wednesday

I learned something interesting this week thanks to Fr. B. In his homily on Palm Sunday, he talked in depth about Holy Week, examining each day and talking about the significance of the day, how we celebrate it, what the Gospel reading for that day says, etc. Of course, having been a Catholic for 10 years now, I already knew most of it, but I learned something new. We have something called Spy Wednesday! 

No, not a day when we watch 007....

On Spy Wednesday, we hear the account of Judas Iscariot who betrayed Jesus for thirty pieces of silver. The account of Judas' is recorded in all three synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke). This year, the reading is from Matthew's gospel and begins with these verse:

The entire reading is Matthew 26:14-25.

Notice that it says that Judas "looked for an opportunity to hand him over." Sounds a lot like spying to me. So not only does Judas sell Jesus out by handing him over, but he's actively looking for a chance to do it. They go on to plan their celebration of the Passover meal and Judas is looking. Then they meet in the upper room to celebrate together and he's looking. What's more, Jesus, being truly divine as well as truly human, knows that Judas is looking. 

Can you imagine how heart-breaking that must have been for Jesus to sit at the table side by side with all the disciples, looking at their faces, washing their feet, and sharing this meal all the while knowing that Judas was looking for an opportunity to betray Him? Jesus' human nature must have felt a great dismay at this knowledge and I can only imagine how difficult it must have been for Him to carry on with the meal as normal. 

One of the things that happened at the Last Supper was that Jesus washed the disciples' feet. This act is the institution of the priesthood as Jesus was showing them how they were to lead in His absence -- as servants. Prior to this, at supper, Jesus indicates to the twelve that one of them will betray Him and it is after supper that He washes their feet. Given that He had just told them that someone would betray Him, this would seem a good time for Him to refuse to wash the feet of His soon-to-be betrayer. 

But He doesn't. 

Jesus washes Judas' feet as well. He shows Judas grace and love and mercy, even as He knew what Judas was about to do. With the action of washing Judas' feet, Jesus shows everyone in the upper room and all of us who read the story today, the entirety of His message -- love, grace, mercy, hope, and forgiveness. That single action bears witness to the love of the Father, Christ's mission on earth, and the purpose of the Holy Spirit. 

Paul says this in his letter to the Romans:

"But God shows His love for us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." (5:8)

If anyone was unworthy of such a gift, one would think that Judas Iscariot, the disciple of whom John writes, "Satan entered into him" (John 13:27a) would be unworthy to have his feet washed, to be shown love and mercy. But Judas was, like the rest of us, a sinner who was very much loved by Jesus. Even though Judas spied on Jesus, looking for an opportunity to betray him, he was no worse than any of the rest of us. We are all sinners and yet, Christ died for us.

How often do we allow the temptations of Satan to enter us and stay until we betray Jesus? 

How often have we been so mired in our sin that we have even looked for an opportunity to hand Him over?

We are all Judases in our own way. At every moment, He is Love Incarnate.

We all spy on Him, sick in our sin, and hand him over to be crucified again and again. And despite this, He washes our feet, shows us the depths of His love for us, and although He knows who we are and what we are about to do, allows our sin to hand Him over to the guards and nail Him to the cross.

And every heartbreaking time we come to Him in our sin, He offers to wash us clean again -- not through water poured over our feet -- but through the forgiveness that He made available to us through the cross. We need not be like Judas who was so full of bitter regret and despair, that he ran away from Jesus and toward death. All we need do is come to Him with a contrite heart, confess our sins, and receive His mercy and forgiveness.

Update: Follow and Write

Do you ever find yourself wondering what on earth you were thinking when you made a particular decision? 

Maybe you are in the midst of planning something or in the thick of putting those plans into action and you hit a major snag that throws everything out of joint. 

Don't you hate it when this happens? Maybe snags in hosiery is why the bare legged look is more en vogue these days. I still like the look of pantyhose, but don't wear them except in certain very rare situations because they're hot!

Maybe everything is going along well, without a hitch, and suddenly life not only hands you lemons but starts throwing them at you and you realize that you've totally forgotten the recipe for lemonade.

Getting to Know You!

Lately I've been having a bit of writer's block. A lot of it has to do with my particular struggles with depression. I keep coming to this page where I have this gigantic white screen full of nothing and just can't find the words to write. So....to that end, I've decided I need some help. I have a Pinterest board that I keep with ideas for blogging and figured that might be a good place to look. As I was looking, it occurred me that a good way to spend this month might be by using a few prompts to tell you a little bit more about me. This is my birthday month, so it seemed rather appropriate. My first prompt from a list I chose off my Pinterest board is...

Some of you reading this may have read my "about me" page, so if you have, I apologize. There might be a few repeats. To that end, I'll try to keep this to some bullet points for ease of reading and hopefully so I don't duplicate as much :) Here's a few basics:

• I am a Roman Catholic Christian. This was not always the case. 
• I am happily married to my beloved Gray (a pseudonym, as all names on my blog are) for almost 10 years now.
• I have three beautiful daughters, ages 8, 7, and almost 2.5. They go by M2, AB, and GB.
• I grew up in the Southeastern USA and still live there to this day. I have a love/hate relationship with my place of birth and residence.
• I am a sci-fi/fantasy geek and fangirl. Doctor Who and Harry Potter are two of my biggest fandoms.
• I am a book nerd and have been since I began reading at around age 3. I almost always have at least three or more books going at once.
• If you've read my 31 Days series, you will know that I struggle with major depression. It has been a fact of life for me and something I have had to figure out how to manage for over 25 years. In the last two years, it has been a constant companion with almost no relief. That is the main thrust of my 31 Days series. Depression is also one of the reasons that my writing isn't as constant as I'd like it to be.
• Speaking of blog series, I am a mostly regular participant in the Five Minute Friday blog series hosted by Kate Motaung at her blog Heading Home.
• I am rather short and Rubenesque and I love my naturally curly brown hair. Currently, it's just past my shoulders which is about the length I like it best -- not too short or too long.
• I love chocolate and rarely go a day without having a little chocolate of some kind.
• Coffee is essential for life. Seriously. I am not a morning person by nature and coffee ensures that I am able to function in the morning even when I don't feel like it.
• Tea is also something I love and have since my first sip of it as a child at a tea party. I do not like iced tea -- sweet or unsweet -- unlike most every other Southerner I know. If I am at a gathering where I've been given iced tea as a drink without being asked what I'd like, I will actively look for water or ask if there is water or some other beverage available. 
• My mom swears that because of the above, I cannot be truly Southern. I also do not like coleslaw, pimento cheese spread, or vegetables that have been cooked within an inch of their life (the one exception being green beans which I will eat unless they are super mushy).
• I do not have a pronounced Southern accent. I cannot tell you the number of times someone has heard me speak and they've said, "Now where are you from?" and then looked astonished when I said, "I'm from here. Born and raised." Non-locals and friends from other parts of the country laugh when I say this because they hear a Southern accent, but then a lot of them have never been exposed to the heavy thick Southern accent that a LOT of folks have in these parts.
• I have a tendency to pick up and unconsciously imitate the accents of people I'm around for any length of time. I'm sure some people may think I'm doing it intentionally, but it's really a weird reflexive thing and I don't usually notice I'm doing it until someone points it out.
• I have a single tattoo on my upper left thigh. It is a rather recent acquisition as I've only had it for a little over a year. I absolutely love it. I never thought I'd ever get one, but there is a story behind why I did and what this tattoo means. Perhaps I'll write about that during this month. 

I'm sure there are some other things, but I think that's all for now. If you click any of the words highlighted in the text above, you can read some of my other entries on those subjects. Hope you enjoyed this little post about me. Feel free to leave questions in the comment box below! I love hearing from those who read my blog.

Where Do I Go From Here?

Lately when I sit down to write in this blog, I find that I just can't make the words come. I'm not entirely sure why that is. It isn't that there aren't things in my head or ideas that I have. I have actually started quite a few posts which have gone unfinished because I just can't make them come together. I feel like I sit here staring at the screen quite a lot and trying to make sense of things.

Blink. Blink. Blink.

The cursor sort of sits there and mocks me -- or at least it feels that way. What to say?

How things have been

I know I've been doing a lot of updating lately about my personal life, but it's primarily because I've not had a lot of energy for creative or serious thought and I'm trying to be faithful to my second word for 2015 -- write.  Since my last post on Thursday, I have been fighting the same stomach bug as my hubby Gray. Even today, Monday, I'm still struggling with the last vestiges of it. It's one of these things that assaults you hard for about 24-36 hours and then once your stomach settles, you just feel totally wiped out for another 2-3 days. I'm currently in that second phase and given that I can't really stop and have a good 2-3 days of sleeping/resting, I have a feeling my 2-3 days may last most of this week.

One Word for 2015

Every year, for as long as I can remember, I have made New Year's resolutions. Sometimes I've been super formal about it and done the whole "this year I resolve to....." kind of thing. Sometimes I've been more casual about it, like "I'm going to try to.....this year." Some years, I've sworn that I'm not going to resolve anything at all because it never works and then wind up resolving something anyway and only half attempting it for a few days.

This year, I'm trying something totally different. This year I'm going to join up with oneword365.com to choose a word to focus on in order to better myself this year. The idea behind this is that rather than making some specific resolution that requires a lot of effort, planning, or motivation to stick with, you choose some kind of idea that you want to incorporate into your life via this word. You can choose any word you like, but most people choose a verb or an adjective that means something to them.

Because I'm an overachiever (or more likely because I'm crazy), I've chosen not one, but two words for 2015. My two words are....

A Letter to Grief

Today's post is a special link-up with Kate Motaung's "Letters to Grief." Go check out Kate's blog and the many other letters to grief written by my fellow bloggers. If you're so inclined, write your own letter and link it up by using the link up at the bottom of the main entry (click on "many other letters to grief" above).

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Dear Grief,

We have been travelling through life together for nearly two years, but it wasn't until recently that I realized it was you. True, depression has been my companion for this same duration, but I had no idea you had come along for the ride. I think you buried yourself in depression's skirts, keeping hidden until Pendragon saw through your disguise. I would never have seen you there without his help.

He says that you are the reason I wear almost nothing but black and this makes sense to me. Colours feel all wrong and black sometimes brings only cold comfort, but it is a more appropriate shroud to console my broken heart.

I have lost so much in the last two years. Is it any wonder as you have been with me, prodding tears and pulling me down and down and down again? You have pricked my pain and rubbed salt in my wounds and I never even knew you were there. Your whisperings have induced oceans of tears and an ache so deep and so painful that I have wondered if I would ever be at peace again.

You have threaded your way through my very veins, enmeshing with my spirit and severing the ties of head and heart that have allowed me to feel the presence of God. That precious gift of being able to feel Him walking with me, holding me fast, comforting me, giving me peace and solace amidst the storm of depression is gone like so much candle smoke in a summer breeze.

No matter how many prayers I pray, tears I cry, or how many times I beg of Him to restore this to me, the miracle never happens. I have wondered many times why this is so and I believe it is because of you. I believe it is because I am unable to fully let you go.

Oh grief, how I want to let you go!

But I do not know how.

You have brought me so deep into your embrace that I am made weak and woozy at times, drowning in the despair which you pour over my head and despite my desire to break free from your clutches, I find myself falling further into you with each month that passes.

I am heartbroken and spent and hopeless because of you. I had thought you a nameless sadness that was keeping me captive, but thanks to this insight, you now have a name other than that clinical moniker, "depression."

I name you -- grief -- and pray that in giving name to you, I give myself enough strength to escape you one day.