Five Minute Friday: Whole

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

Whole

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Week in Rear View - July 13-19, 2015

It's Sunday night, so it's time for The Week in Rear View -- a rapid fire look back at my world this week!

1. This was the week of getting things ready for Fr. B to come bless our house on Friday night. Thankfully, Fr. B doesn't care that the house is a bit messy, because there's just no way I could've gotten it totally like I really want it to look in the time that I had between setting the date for this and the date itself. I did my best to tidy things up, but by Thursday was still wishing it looked a lot better. I planned the menu, bought the groceries, emailed Father our address, and started prepping. Burned a LOT of spoons (actually more than I really had to burn) to do all of this. Then I got an email from Father on Thursday evening saying that he'd fallen ill with severe vertigo again and been to his doctor who told him he wasn't allowed to drive anymore, so he couldn't come bless the house (it's about 45 minutes between the parish and our house in one direction). I totally understood, but I'll admit I was a little disappointed after having worked so hard in anticipation of his visit and that led to...

2. ....a crash on Friday morning. I've been battling insomnia kinda hardcore this week (3-4 hours sleep each night) on top of all the activity. When I woke up after about 4.5 hours of sleep on Friday morning, I didn't feel at all rested. I felt like I'd been hit by a mack truck -- physically and emotionally. Gray wound up working from home and I went back to bed for most of the day.

3. Made a pretty passable BBQ pork for sandwiches in our crock pot overnight on Saturday night. Woke up Sunday to the smell of braised pork, ready for shredding, BBQ sauce, and bread and butter pickle chips! The only thing that would have made it better would have been the addition of some liquid smoke. I used a premixed barbecue spice rub and some low sodium chicken broth (to keep it from drying out while cooking) and that's it. Super easy and delicious!

4. Realized on Thursday that I am finally at a place where I'm ready to start writing about my trip to Boston for the walk and the event itself. It's taken a good three weeks to really process things and figure out all my feelings and what I want to say, but I think I'm finally there. Hopefully, when this week is done, I'll have something written up about it.

5. Blogged for the first time this week about a subject that I've only mentioned in passing previously: self-injury. It was my Five Minute Friday post for this week (go check it out here!), so it was really only a short sort of introduction, but it's something that's been on my heart a lot lately as I've heard from quite a few friends online and in my offline circles that they have kids struggling with this and just don't know what to do or where to turn. It's something that as a society, we need to be talking about more and I'm going to be writing more in depth on it in the near future.

6. Mass this evening (Sunday the 19th) at Fr. B's parish and then took him out to dinner at the Cracker Barrel near his parish. He had suggested when he emailed me to cancel the house blessing that we all go eat together tonight since he knew how excited our three girls were about him coming to visit and bless the house. It was a lovely evening, just laughing and talking and eating together. It reminded me so much of all the things that we love about him and how truly special he is to our family. We are so grateful to God for the gift of His servant and our beloved family friend, Fr. B!

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Well, that's it for the week! Looking forward to this week, keep an eye out for my post about Boston as well as what I anticipate will be a short introduction to the subject of self-injury. If I have time and energy, I might edit a couple of other posts I've been working on for a while and post them too.

A la prossima settimana!

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!

A Hand To Hold

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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The nature of life is that we all sometimes need a hand to hold. 

St. Patrick's Day and How I Got My Tattoo

St. Patrick, patron saint of Ireland, the Archdiocese of New York and engineers.

Most people think of St. Patrick's Day as a day when people drink green beer, wear green, and claim Irish ancestry -- whether or not they have it. It is often seen as an excuse to party and act a little crazy. I'll admit, that it is fun to have a party on St. Patrick's Day, but the day is more than that. Like St. Valentine's Day, it began as a Catholic feast day to honour a saint -- in this case, St. Patrick. A feast day, in this sense, has to do with a special day set aside by the Catholic Church to celebrate a particular saint. Of course, many Catholics do feast in the common sense of the word and eat special foods that are associated with that saint or have a party with friends and family on the day as a part of their celebrations, but the reason they celebrate in the first place is because of the saint whose feast day it happens to be. Just so with St. Patrick.

Five Minute Friday: When

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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Times When My Life Was Touched and Changed

When I first realized at age 12 that "sad" didn't quite describe how I was feeling
When my ears first heard the words "my best friend"
When I first felt the swoop of freedom running through my veins at the words "you passed your driver's test.."

When I was afraid I would lose my mind if I could find no one to talk to about my home life
When my compassionate teacher and now dear friend Rikert heard my pain and helped me
When I looked through the window and watched my parents drive away
When I realized I needed help to deal with my depression

If you or someone you know is in crisis, call 1-800-273-8255 to talk to someone about what's going on and get help. This is the National Suicide Prevention hotline, but you don't have to be suicidal to use it. If you're depressed or grieving or lonely, you can call and talk to someone who is trained to listen and offer support!

When I realized that nothing was helping
When I was brave and tried medication for the first time
When I felt the thrill of acting with my peers at college
When my voice professor first praised my hard work and skills
When I began my own journey of faith

Sometimes you need a little humour as you're discovering faith for yourself.

When I experienced the baptism of the Holy Spirit
When I landed in London and began a wonderful adventure
When my depression intensified and my self-injury began
When I withdrew from college to get help
When I worked and dreamed of having my own place in a new city and a new part of the country
When my dreams were dashed because of the lies of others
When a friend tried to hook me up with a guy and wound up hooking me up with the Catholic Church
When I made a new friend who I refused to call by his last name
When that friend and I kissed for the first time
When we became officially more than friends

I love it when he brings me flowers "just because." :)

When my boyfriend took me to visit his family at Christmas
When I was confirmed and received fully into the Catholic Church
When my boyfriend proposed three days later
When I walked down the aisle with my heart full of joy to marry my beloved Gray
When we gave ourselves to each other for the first time
When I found out that I was pregnant (each time)
When I first saw each of our sweet girls

Left to right: AB, GB, and M2 -- dressed up pretty for Easter 2014

When we bought our house
When my M2 and AB started preschool and later on, regular school
When the darkness that had been with me since age 12 descended again
When the darkness got even darker than I'd ever felt
When I had a moment when I lost hold of reality and almost attempted suicide
When I began what I thought would be a helpful treatment for depression
When the people who I trusted violated my trust, took advantage of my emotional distress, and coerced me into agreeing to something I never wanted to do
When my heart broke so completely that I thought I would never stop crying



When I spent 5 days in hell, afraid that I would never see light, love, or God again...

........ when the hell of those 5 days ended and I saw flickers of light and love again



When the nightmares began
When the flashbacks began
When I stood at the edge several times, contemplating suicide, and was pulled back to safety by the words of Gray, Pendragon, my big brother Chez, and my friend Rikert
When I had two weeks of respite in the midst of what has been over two years of continued depression
When I decided to write about my experience and share it with others

If you've ever wondered what it's like to go through an episode of major depression, please feel free to read my 31 Days series. It is an account of some of what I've been through in the last couple of years. Eventually, I may make it into a book.

When I began EMDR to treat my PTSD
When the flashbacks began to diminish
When I decided to take on the challenge of sharing my experience with suicide and raise funds to help prevent suicide and raise awareness

If you'd like to make a donation to help raise funds for programs that help prevent suicide, click here to donate.

When I decided to no longer stay silent about my struggles with major depression and suicide
When I realized that I need to do this walk for suicide prevention for myself as much as to help others.

Join the Five Minute Friday party at Kate Motaung's blog!

Day Thirteen (part 1): Torn

****Note: This entry has mentions of suicide (non-graphic). Please read with caution if you are triggered by this subject.

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The night following my first day of the program passes by in a normal enough way. My kids need supper, Gray asks how the day went, there are clothes to wash, bottles to clean, formula to be made for the following day, bedtime prayers and kisses and tuck-ins to be done. All of these normal day to day things that comprise my routine float past with the hours and I find myself alone at the end of it, Big Book in hand, fumbling with the pages and trying to make some attempt at reviewing the material we covered today. I put the book down with a sigh. It's useless. It's the same stuff I learned four years ago. It's just not working. There is no way that it makes any sense that this will help at all. Why would it? There are no new insights to be gained in this Big Book and no new education to be learned about the diseases or treatments. It's all the same. Same isn't going to change anything for me. And short of something completely extreme like electroshock therapy, nothing is going to help this. There is no way out of this darkness. None. I don't want to leave...but I can't do this anymore. I sit in the rocking chair in our living room and make my plans. My means are still in the house and easy enough to lay my hands on. I won't do it here in the house. I will leave tomorrow, go somewhere out of the way, write my note, and do it there. That way at least the ones I leave behind won't find me. With that thought, I gather up the necessary items, tuck them inside my insulated lunch bag, and put it into the refrigerator as though it contains a sandwich and piece of fruit.

Day Twelve: Barbecue, Holy Oils, and Big Books....Oh My!

It is the day after my tears have returned and we are sitting around my parents' kitchen table, eating barbecue, potato salad, baked beans, and other assorted slightly special summertime foods. It is July 4th and there are fireworks on TV as we eat. I did not want to do this today, but felt like it was too late to back out of it. I am still wasted from yesterday's session with Pendragon and still trying to find right side up in my emotions. I take a bite of my barbecue sandwich, but don't really enjoy it. Truthfully, I barely even taste it. Although it may not look like it from the outside, I am miles away inside and want to just eat and go, but we won't be able to get away that quickly. After our late lunch, we will have to wait a bit before dessert and then a bit after that before we can make our excuses and go. Gray and I have already discussed that he will say that we need to leave so we can get home before too late and he can get to bed at his regular time because he has work the next day. It is true, but it is also an excuse.