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...

Psalm 11

As much as I love my Catholic Women's Devotional Bible, sometimes after I read the day's psalm in it, I have to go to another version to really understand the text better. Today was one of those days. Psalm 11 is just seven short verses, but it took me reading it from the NAB (which is the version that is used for the Sunday and daily Mass readings) to really understand what it was saying.

I have to say, now that I understand it, I'm definitely sensing a theme going on here: trust in God. Look at the opening verses:

In the Lord I take refuge; how can you say to me, "Flee like a bird to the mountains! See how the wicked string their bows, fit their arrows to the string, to shoot from the shadows at the upright of heart. If foundations are destroyed, what can the just one do?" (verses 1-2; NAB version)

When I first read this, it didn't make sense. The more I looked at it though, I began to realize that what it's saying is that the psalmist is in disbelief that someone would suggest that he flee. He trusts so firmly in God's protection and providence, that he finds it a bit absurd or perhaps even off-putting that someone would tell him to flee at the sight of the enemy's wickedness.

While I understand the psalmist's point of view, I understand the other side of it too. If faced with grave danger on the horizon, I'd really struggle to stand firm and trust God to take care of it all. Funnily enough though, I think many Americans feel that way about the upcoming presidential election -- no matter which side of the political spectrum they are on. There's a real sense that so many of the candidates are so awful that if one of the worst got elected that things would go downhill rapidly and intensely for the average American citizen. That's why so many people have expressed that they are looking into other countries to flee to in the event that their idea of evil happens to be elected. I remember hearing some of that kind of murmuring when President GW Bush ran for re-election and when President Obama was running the first time, but it wasn't nearly as many people as this time around and to be honest, it was mostly celebrities and political talking heads.

I'll admit, the thought of moving to another country in that event does sound a bit appealing, but not only is it completely impractical and impossible for our family, but I have to trust that God will protect me and my family no matter who gets elected. He has always provided for us and protected us before and I have no reason to believe he's going to stop now. I also know that even if the wicked prevail and rain down all kinds of evil upon the heads of those who follow God, they will eventually be held accountable for that -- even if not in this life -- and since that's not my decision to make and I can't control what they do, I leave it in God's hands.

I have to trust Him. It's a requirement for my faith, but also for my sanity. I don't have the mental or emotional wherewithal to be constantly worried about every horrible thing that may befall me because of this person or that person. I can't flee -- literally or figuratively -- from every report of the wicked's schemes. So I trust in Him and so does the psalmist, so I'll close with the final words of Psalm 11:

The Lord is just and loves just deeds; the upright will see His face. (verse 7; NAB version)

Until next time...

Pax Christi!

Psalm 6

All the psalms in the Bible that I'm using have a short phrase that was added by the editors which gives you an idea of what the psalm is about. Today's psalm subtitle is: "Prayer for Recovery from Grave Illness." That actually makes a lot of sense to me as this psalm has been one that I've felt effectively expresses much of what a person of faith may feel emotionally when going through a grave illness. In particular, it resonates with my experience of going through depression.

But depression isn't a grave illness, right? Actually the statistics say otherwise. In the United States alone, some 42,000+ people die by suicide and the biggest risk factor for suicide is mental illness. Given that depression is one of the most common mental illnesses in this country, it's not a big stretch to say that it's likely the illness behind many of those deaths each year.

Even if you don't wrestle with thoughts of suicide though, depression can weigh you down so much that it feels as though you're so deep in the blackness of it that you might as well be six feet under. Those intense emotions of sadness, heartache, numbness, loneliness, and despair are at the heart of the psalmist's prayer to God in Psalm 6:

Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing; O Lord, heal me, for my bones are shaking with terror. My soul also is struck with terror, while You, O Lord -- how long? (verses 2-3)

I have absolutely felt every bit of this in the last three years. I've even said to both Gray and Pendragon that I feel as though I'm wasting away, little by little. When the depression gets so dark that I cannot see anything light, there is a kind of terror there that resides deep within my bones.

I am weary with my moaning; every night I flood my bed with tears; I drench my couch with my weeping. My eyes waste away because of grief; they grow weak because of all my foes. (verse 6-7)

If I could somehow summon every tear that I've ever shed because of depression, I imagine there would be enough to fill the several gallons. In the last three years alone, I've shed enough tears that there have been many occasions when I thought I would dehydrate myself from crying. I have wept so much that I have moaned and howled with the ache of it. I know that sounds like I'm being dramatic, but it's the truth.

When the emotional pain you feel is as intense as mine has been, you may find yourself at a place where you just can't vent anything with sobbing alone. I'd never had the experience of such intense crying until I lost my ability to cry for several months at the beginning of this depressive episode and eventually had the dam burst in Pendragon's office one day. Since then, I've had quite a few dam bursting moments. The second part of this passage always seems so perfectly written to me: "My eyes waste away because of grief; they grow weak..." I have often felt after a long spate of crying that I feel a great weakness around my eyes, almost to the point of heaviness. I think that might account for how sleepy I often feel following a good cry.

The Lord has heard my supplication; the Lord accepts my prayer. (verse 9)

I think this verse is the hardest for me at times. All the struggles I've had with my faith have shaken me and made it all the harder to pray this verse and believe it. To be honest, there have been times when I have struggled so much with belief that the only prayer I could manage was, "Help. Oh, help." and this out of desperation, more than belief. In moments when the darkness was less heavy, I have prayed "Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief." (Mark 9:24) I know intellectually that God hears my prayers and that He accepts them, but given His silence and my inability to connect with His Presence, that intellectual belief offers cold comfort.

Still, because Truth is reality and I have always believed in Truth -- even when I didn't fully understand it -- I keep praying. Also, I know that despite my lack of connection with Him, He is doing things. I still don't like feeling like I'm in the dark and that He is nowhere to be found, but I see the traces of His touch on my soul from time to time. And that is enough.

+ O Lord, I offer this psalm up to You as a prayer from one who has been through the darkest of valleys and still breathes. When the heaviness of this illness lays waste to my ability to see You or believe that You are there, I pray "O Lord, I love. Help my lack of love. O Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief. O Lord, I hope. Help my lack of hope." Jesus, I trust in You. Amen. +

Psalm 5

To be honest, I struggled today with this psalm. It's not that it's difficult to understand, but I just didn't know what to say about it. I'm not terribly sure that I know now what I'm going to say, but I'm starting to think that this isn't about saying something meaningful, so much as a lesson in humility and obedience. I'm not sure why I need these lessons, but perhaps over the course of the next 145-ish days, I'll figure it out.

Today's psalm is one of the many lamenting psalms. Again, we see more contrast between the righteous and the wicked. It is also a psalm where the writer is beseeching God for deliverance from his enemies. When I was telling Gray earlier tonight about how I wasn't sure what to do with this one, I mentioned the subject of enemies and commented that I don't think I really have enemies. I mean, maybe I do, but I can't think of any right off the top of my head.

This isn't to boast about how awesome I am, just a statement of fact. I try my very best to get along with everyone I meet. It's both something I feel like I'm called to do (you know, that whole "love your neighbour" thing) and also because I'm at a point in my life where I just don't have the patience for drama from grownups. I have more than enough kid/tween drama without anything added to it. Gray gave me a significant look and suddenly I realized -- I do have enemies. Not of flesh and blood, but of spirit.

You destroy those who speak lies; the Lord abhors the bloodthirsty and deceitful. (verse 6)

The enemies of spirit are most adept when they manage to convince you that a lie is the truth. In particular, my enemies use not only lies of their own creation, but they use the depressive thoughts in my head -- which are the result of my own inner Gollum, as my blogger friend Matthew puts it -- to convince me that I know something to be true when it is not. These deceptions are indeed bloodthirsty as they have many times resulted in my contemplating, nearly attempting, and even attempting suicide.

The truth is that these enemies will be destroyed. Perhaps not now, perhaps not tomorrow, but eventually, because they are the antithesis of God's infinite goodness, they will meet their destruction. St. Paul reminds us that these enemies will be destroyed when he says, "The last enemy to be destroyed is death." (1 Corinthians 15:26) But how can one survive such enemies and find deliverance?

But I, through the abundance of Your steadfast love, will enter Your house, I will bow down toward Your holy temple in awe of You. Lead me, O Lord, in Your righteousness because of my enemies, make Your way straight before me. (verses 7-8)

To me, this imagery is so potently Catholic -- entering the house of the Lord, bowing before His temple, being in awe of His Presence. It also makes me think of the great graces to be had from the Sacraments. Those graces are what enable us to "endure to the end" that we might be saved (Matthew 24:13). They help us to see clearly the path of righteousness where God is leading us.

I have seen firsthand the power of the Sacraments and the graces which pour forth from them. Almost three years ago, I endured a trauma so powerful that it all but ripped my faith from me. Anger and bitterness toward God and a sense of abandonment by Him so intense that I began to question the deepest foundations of my faith plagued me for close to two years. I continued to go to Mass, confession, and pray bedtime prayers and mealtime blessings, but my heart was absent from all of it. There was a deep aching pain that accosted me whenever I began to think of God or even things of faith, so I tried very hard not to think about them. When I couldn't get away from them -- like at Mass -- I would often lose all control and burst into tears or else feel so overwhelmed that I just shut down into a numbness that was, itself, destructive.

At some point, about two years post-trauma, I began to see Fr. B. for spiritual direction. Knowing how severe and intense my depression was and the fact that I was struggling so mightily with my faith, he began by hearing my confession and giving me the Anointing of the Sick. Eventually, he began giving me the Eucharist and combined with the other two sacraments, created what I've come to call "The Trifecta." Then he put the graces of those sacraments to work by giving me a very specific penance. He told me to "go spend some time with Jesus in the tabernacle in the church." I wasn't prepared for that and wasn't really enthused about it the first time. What would I say to Him? I was still so angry and I told Fr. B that. He replied, "So tell Him you're angry. He can take it. It might do you some good." And then he walked with me over to the church from the rectory and gave me a blessing before leaving me alone in the quiet of the empty church.

I very nearly left in the first two minutes, but I didn't. I sat there through my discomfort and pain and told myself that I'd stay just 10 minutes and then go. At some point during that 10 minutes, those graces of the Sacraments started working on me. I didn't want to talk to Him or pray or anything, but I found myself doing just that. It started with a less than heartfelt Our Father and eventually moved into me unleashing all of my anger, bitterness, and every negative and destructive emotion I'd ever had onto Him. The tears began to flow at some point and then I found that I couldn't stop crying. A few tears turned into a full-on ugly cry (you know the one where you get blotchy red faced, faucet nosed, and an ugly grimaced expression). That sobbing progressed to a kind of gasping howl.

I don't know how long I cried that first day, but after a while, my sobs subsided and I sat in silence, not knowing what to do with myself as I wiped my face and nose. My eyes lit upon the hymnal in the pew and I turned to the old Latin hymn Tantum Ergo and began to chant it. It was the first time I'd felt any desire to sing in months. As I sang the last few notes, the church bells began to chime the noon Angelus. It was only then that I realised I'd been there not just 10 minutes, but -- to my shock -- a little over an hour! I prayed the Angelus prayers as a kind of benediction and then left. As I staggered to the car, feeling a bit weak and tired, I realized something had happened. I wasn't sure exactly what to make of it, but I knew that I felt lighter than when I'd arrived.

I've repeated this process several times and Fr. B has also prayed deliverance prayers over me as well. All of these sacramental graces have been acting like a kind of healing balm to my faith. There's still work to be done in that area and I still wrestle with anger at God, but I know that much of that has gotten better. I didn't really realise that until just recently. It's been a very slow process and I still have my doubts at times. I still feel abandoned and weak in my faith. I still feel fear at the prospect of declaring that I have hope for recovery for not just my faith but my depression too. That last one is a big one. That said, I do know that God is with me -- even if I sometimes have doubts about that -- and I know that He has promised to protect me and help me if I turn to Him. This promise is echoed in the final words of Psalm 5:

But let all who take refuge in You rejoice; let them ever sing for joy. Spread your protection over them, so that those who love your name may exult in you. For You bless the righteous, O Lord; you cover them with favour as with a shield. (verses 11-12)

Psalm 2

With all the election year political stuff in the news lately, people are pretty stirred up. Many are very concerned about how this election is going to turn out and what that result may mean for our country. In particular, it seems that everyone is concerned about at least one particular candidate who is diametrically opposed to their own personal beliefs. This is true for both ends of the political spectrum and for everyone in between. We as a nation are in many ways quite divided as to who we'd like to lead us for the next four years.

I'll be honest that I have my own concerns and feel that, sadly, they are indeed valid. It feels to me like very dark days ahead for our country if the candidate that I am worried about gets elected. In fact, it frightens me on a certain level. I am trying very hard to trust in God's providence and leave it in His hands, but given how inundated we are in this internet information age with every little thing about every single candidate, I get overwhelmed and fall back to worrying instead of trusting.

Today's psalm reminded me that God really is in control, no matter what happens. Even if Satan plans the outcome for our destruction, God is still in control. Psalm 2 is one of the psalms which points to the Messiah who is to come. In verses 7-9, the psalmist writes this:

I will tell of the decree of the Lord: He said to me, "You are my son; today I have begotten you. Ask of me, and I will make the nations your heritage and the ends of the earth your possession. You shall break them with a rod of iron and dash them in pieces like a potter's vessel."

The rod of iron dashing them to pieces is referenced in Revelation 2 where John is speaking about the Messiah. So who are the people who will be dashed to pieces? Earlier in this chapter, the psalmist speaks about nations who conspire, peoples who plot, kings and rulers who set themselves and take counsel together against the Lord and His anointed one (verses 1 and 2). He says that the Lord will speak to them in His fury (verse 5) because of this and terrify them by telling them of the coming Messiah who will rule them with a rod of iron. This chastisement is meant to serve as a means of causing them to turn from their wickedness and disobedience and turn toward the Lord to serve Him and worship Him. Verse 12 warns them against disregarding this correction and says that those who do not heed it will perish.

Look again at what it says these kings and peoples are doing. They're conspiring, plotting, taking counsel together, and setting themselves against the Lord. Sounds an awful lot like some of the politicians in our country who will do and say absolutely anything to get elected and will do and say anything to stay in power -- even if it means turning their backs on what is good and true and right. But according to the psalmist, despite what these kings and peoples are doing, the Lord is still in control. He is still King and when time comes to its end, He will rule over all the nations and those who have turned from Him will answer for that.

Now understand that I don't for a minute believe that God is going to smite American politicians during this election season or even after the general election in November. I mean, I know He could do it, but I don't think it's even remotely likely given that He doesn't really need to actively punish them as they do a pretty good job of it themselves. I guess what I'm saying is that even if things go absolutely pear-shaped this November, God will sort it out in His own good time.

You see, He's got the bigger picture. He sees so much more than we can. That's why I'm trying to very hard not to worry about what will happen with this election. I'm actively trying to keep my focus on Him and trust that He knows what He's doing. My goal is heaven and achieving that goal is not in any way dependent upon who gets elected as the next POTUS. That said, part of achieving my goal is to educate myself about the candidates, pray for God's wisdom to guide me, and then cast my vote for the person who I believe most closely aligns with what is good, true, and right (or not cast my vote if there is no one that I may vote for in good conscience). I'm also praying for our country and for each voter to be led by the Holy Spirit. It's not much, but it helps me remember that He sees the bigger picture and that my trust should be in Him. These things also bring me a greater amount of peace too and that makes sense because the last verse of Psalm 2 says this:

Happy are all who take refuge in Him.

Until tomorrow...pax vobiscum!

Meditating on Advent - Day 4

I'm a little behind because yesterday (12/2/2015) was a struggle with energy. My brain was so tired that I was having difficulty following discussions in a Facebook group I help administrate and during a thoughtful discussion my hubby and I were having after we got the girls to bed. I was sluggish and tired all day and just couldn't get it together. Anyhow, here's my thoughts on yesterday's gospel!

Yesterday's Gospel: Matthew 15:29-37

Jesus summoned his disciples and said, "My heart is moved with pity for the crowd, for they have been with me now for three days and have nothing to eat. I do not want to send them away hungry, for fear they may collapse on the way." The disciples said to him, "Where could we ever get enough bread in this deserted place to satisfy such a crowd?"(verse 32-33)

In this season of Advent where we are waiting and preparing for the birth of Jesus at Christmas, we may find ourselves wondering amidst all this preparation if we will really make it to Christmas. We may wonder if there is any way we'll get it all done or worry that we're rushing through Advent without adequately preparing our hearts or we may have so much to do and places to go that we wonder if we'll get to Christmas without losing our minds altogether!

Here's the message: even while we are waiting and preparing for celebrating His birth, He is here with us even now. He is here and He is providing what we need. We are so much like the disciples, I think. They had no hope that there was any way that all these people would be able to be fed given the sheer number, lack of supplies, and deserted location. What's wild is that they even asked Jesus such a question. Verses 29-31 of this passage from Matthew show Jesus healing people of all kinds of ills and deformities. In fact, verse 30 says "great crowds came to him" and that "he cured them." The disciples had witnessed all these miracles and yet, they lost hope when it came to food.

Isn't that SO like us humans? We see all kinds of amazing things, but when we get hungry or tired or hot or cold, or inundated with too much to do, we lose hope that God is able to provide for those needs. I love the phrase that Shakespeare uses to describe all the frustrations of our earthly existence as "the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to." It's so true though, isn't it? This mortal life isn't an easy one and because of the sinful fallen nature we inherited from Adam and Eve, we sometimes lose sight of the fact that God doesn't just do amazing and fireworks-worthy miracles like curing an incurably blind person or turning several gallons of water into the best wine. He works smaller miracles in our everyday lives like giving us an extra push of energy when we think we have none left so that we can do what needs to be done or providing a friend to spend time with when we are feeling lonely and low or finding a sale on something so that we can give our children Christmas presents and still buy groceries to feed the family.

So when you get frustrated during this season of waiting and preparing, remember the feeding of the four thousand here in Matthew. Remember that even as we wait, He is here and He provides.

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.

Five Minute Friday: Try

Note: This post is my weekly contribution to the Five Minute Friday community that is hosted by Kate Motaung on her blog Heading Home. Click here for more information about Five Minute Friday and how you can get involved! To link up with all the other entries for today's prompt word, click here.

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July 2009

"No."

"Why not? Why not try it?"

I look around the office at the book case, the desk, the carpet and window and swallow. There is a fear stuck in my throat and I don't know if I can give voice to it. I look at Pendragon again.

"H-h-hospital. You said hospitalisation program..." I manage to stammer.

"Yes, it's the partial hospitalisation program, " he says. I look down at my lap.

"I don't want to go in the hospital.." I reply.

"It's not like a real hospital. It's an outpatient program. You go during the day and then you go home at night. Actually, it doesn't even look like a hospital." Pendragon tries to explain it more fully for me.

I am wary, skittish, and very afraid. It is early days in our therapeutic relationship and I'm still learning whether or not this man sitting across from me is trustworthy. And now he wants me to stick my neck out and try something new and scary? Something that probably won't work?

"No, I don't think so."  My answers are short and to the point, something that is very unlike me, but it is anxiety creeping in and an unspoken fear that this is something that he will somehow force me to try eventually.

But he doesn't. He nods. "Just think about it, okay? I really think if you give it a try, you'll benefit greatly from what that program has to offer. There's a great program therapist, Samantha. She's really great."

He's hit one of my hot buttons. I stare at him with daggers.

"She???" I query, wondering if I've heard him correctly. He knows how I feel about women and my past experiences.

"Yes, she. Actually, she's a lot like you," he says. Unlikely, I think, inwardly rolling my eyes. Despite my attempt to keep my disgust to myself, he senses it and continues, "No really, she is. Your personalities are very similar. I really think you'd like her a lot. And all that aside, the information is good stuff and I think would be very helpful to you."

I shift in my seat, glancing down at my hands, biting my lower lip as I think. "No, no, I really don't think so."

"Okay, okay, it was a thought. If you change your mind, and decide to give it a try, there's some fliers in the reception area about it and all you have to do is let me know," he answers and turns toward the computer on his desk. I can see by the clock on the wall that our time is almost up.

"Okay," I answer. We make another appointment for two weeks later and he ushers me out of the office.

In the reception area, I pass by the fliers in their little bins on the wall and wander over. My eyes flit over the various group therapy fliers and just as I'm about to walk toward the door, I happen to spy the one marked "Partial Hospitalisation Program."

I freeze for a moment, my breath catching in my throat. Then without another thought, I reach out, grasp one of the fliers and fold it in half with my appointment paper as I walk to the car. I don't know why I took one, but now it's burning a hole in my purse and I feel like I've made some kind of decision, although perhaps only subconsciously. I open the paper and read the information on it. My stomach is in knots and I am tempted to crumple it up and toss it out the window, but I don't. I keep that paper in my purse and look at it several times, reading the information over and over again.

A month later as I am sitting in Pendragon's office for another regular appointment, I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. I am sitting cross legged on the little sofa and am trying to think of how to respond to his usual opening question regarding how I am. With a tremor in my voice and feeling as though I am about to step off a ledge, the first thing that falls out of my mouth is, "Okay, so I've decided I want to try it..."

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Join the Five Minute Friday fun and link up your post at Kate Motaung's blog!

Five Minute Friday: Free

 Note: This post is my weekly contribution to the Five Minute Friday community that is hosted by Kate Motaung on her blog Heading Home. Click here for more information about Five Minute Friday and how you can get involved! To link up with all the other entries for today's prompt word, click here.

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Maybe you're tired of me talking about it, but that's okay. I'm good with that. It's my experience and my passion and something I think more people need to talk about. Of course, I'm talking about mental illness and mental health. For this Five Minute Friday, I want to talk about something that is related and something that REALLY needs talking about. I'm going to try to do it in 5 minutes.

Self-injury.

Yeah, it's a kind of scary thing to say aloud. I'll be honest. It's not the easiest thing to talk about with regard to my own experience. So why talk about it today, with this prompt?

Because I'm free of it.


It's something that plagued me on and off from about late middle school through my early 30s. Then I went through an intensive outpatient mental health program and using the education I gleaned from that, the coping skills I learned, and the help of my therapist Pendragon (who helped me uncover the reasons why I did it), I broke free of the stranglehold this habit had on my life.

This August will make six years of freedom from self-injury. And I'm pretty stinking proud of that.

One thing freedom from self-injury isn't: easy. It takes incredible effort and it takes vigilance. Freedom also isn't being free from thoughts and temptations to self-injure. The freedom is in resisting those thoughts and temptations. Every time you resist, you get a little bit stronger. I've had some fierce temptations. I've come very close to losing the fight with those thoughts a few times, especially in the early days.

Eventually though, I got to a place where one year became two and then three and at some point, I realised that when I'm tempted, the part of me that has become stronger with resistance says, "It's not worth it to throw all this hard work away and have to start again at square one." And the part of me that's fighting yet another temptation says, "You know? You're right." And the temptation loses and I win another victory.

I am free from self-injury. If you are struggling with it, know that there is hope for you to find freedom too. If you need a friend to encourage you along the way, email me at the link in the sidebar. I promise I'll listen and be there. You can do it! You can be free too!

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Join in the Five Minute Friday fun and link up at Kate Motaung's blog!

Five Minute Friday: Fear

Note: This post is my weekly contribution to the Five Minute Friday community that is hosted by Kate Motaung on her blog Heading Home. Click here for more information about Five Minute Friday and how you can get involved! To link up with all the other entries for today's prompt word, click here.

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(picture courtesy of Warner Brothers Pictures, quote added by me)

So here I am again. It's time to write and well, honestly, the words aren't coming so much. I had a lot of thoughts kinda race through my head but not a single one of them seems to want to coalesce into something coherent. So here are a few thoughts on fear -- disjointed though they may be.

• Fear isn't always a bad thing. There is indeed such a thing as healthy fear. Healthy fear comes from God and can keep us out of trouble.

• Here's one of my favourite quotes about fear from Professor Remus Lupin in the book Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban:

"I didn't think of Voldemort," said Harry honestly. "I -- I remembered those dementors." 

"I see," said Lupin thoughtfully. "Well, well . . . I'm impressed. That suggests what you fear most of all is -- fear. Very wise, Harry."

• Fear isn't the absence of strength. It isn't some kind of weakness. It is an acknowledgement that you are human and that life is scary sometimes.

• Fear can be paralyzing at times, especially when you are scared spitless and have absolutely no idea what to do. In those moments, the best thing to do is hit your knees and do your best to give it to God. Yeah, I know, not so easily done.

• Even the most fearless looking person has something they're afraid of -- heights, fire alarms, the number 13, the sight of blood, or becoming a parent for the first time. I was reminded of this while watching Deadliest Catch this week. One of the Northwestern's deck hands, Jake Anderson, got to meet his baby boy on this week's episode when his wife gave birth.

• Don't worry about your fears. Face them and in so doing, cultivate bravery. A very wise person once said to me that bravery isn't a lack of fear, but the strength to face your fears in spite of them. I like that a lot.

Until next week...

Join in the Five Minute Friday Fun and link up at Kate Motaung's blog!