What I learned from helping my son

My baby has been struggling.  For several months he has randomly started crying and telling me he is sad. Recently it is becoming more and more frequent.  He never knows why he is sad or what is causing him to go from laughing to crying in a matter of minutes.  As the girl who did deal with childhood depression, I worry.  The other day he climbed in my lap, stroked my hair and said, "Mamma, I'm just sad."

I have no answers or cures for him.  But I happen to be struggling with the same thing currently so I hugged him tightly and told him that I get sad for no reason sometimes too.  I grabbed my Bible that I had been reading before he came in and read Philippians 4:4-8 to him.

Rejoice in the Lord always.  I will say it again: Rejoice!

We can choose to have joy.

Let your gentleness be evident to all.  The Lord is near.

God is near us, Baby.

Do not be anxious about anything, 

That means we aren't supposed to worry.

but in everything, by prayer and petition, 

with thanksgiving, present your request to God.

And the peace of God which transcends all understanding

will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.

That means that God gives us peace in our hearts that is bigger than our brains can understand.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true,

whatever is noble,

whatever is right,

whatever is pure,

whatever is lovely

 whatever is admirable

if anything is excellent or praiseworthy

think on these things.

Baby, that means that God wants us to spend our time thinking about the things 

in our lives that we are thankful for, for the blessings He gives us, and every good thing.

Tell me something you are thankful for, something that makes you smile.  "I don't know, Mamma.  I can't think of anything."  Well, I can tell you something  that makes me smile.  You make me smile.  I'm thankful for you.  Now it is your turn.

You.

Coffee in my Christmas mug.

My monkeys.

That our heater works.

Playing with my friends at recess.

Hugs and kisses.

Brothers.

The conversation continued for several minutes.  And then his sweet voice says, "Mamma, I still feel sad."  I know, Baby.  We will still get sad sometimes.  What we need to do is hold on to those things we are thankful for, those things that make us smile, until  the sadness passes.  And at some point the sadness will pass.  Hold on to those good things until the sadness passes. 

I don't know how long it will be until my sadness passes, but I will continue to greet the day with intentional thankfulness until the sadness passes.  I will continue to hold on to the things that are true, noble, worthy of praise and trust that God is indeed near and that He will indeed guard my heart and mind with His peace. 

walking throught the muck with my kids

Friday the news broke that the body they found was indeed the body of the missing little girl.  Friday my son spent the night at a friends house.  Friday the friend's mom told my son that the girl had been found.  Friday she told him that the body had been dismembered.  Saturday I had to pick up the pieces of a very broken little boy.

Wouldn't you think that maybe it isn't ok to tell other people's kids big news like that?  Or maybe send me a text if he was asking questions to ask if I minded if she talked to him about it?  Or at minimum, TELL ME that she talked to him so that I know what he knows so I have a starting point when he breaks down in my arms? 

We believe that our kids should hear from us whenever possible the things they need to know.  We tell our kids hard things because we want to be able to help them process their emotions in a safe place.  We would have talked about this with him.   We talked to our kids about the theater shooting.  We talked about the little girl being missing and the reasons we have certain outside rules in place.  We talk about sex and answer uncomfortable questions.  We answer all of their questions when we are asked, even if the answer, like this time, is "I don't know.  I don't understand either." 

Maybe that is why it made me angry that someone else handled it.  I know it will get talked about at school.  My son is in the same age range as the little girl was.  He and his friends have been talking about it.  I just wanted him to hear the big part from me and dad.  I wanted him to be in a safe place that he could completely loose his temper and punch his pillow and scream and cry and do all of the things that he did when he got home to the safety of his room.  I wanted to be there to hold him when he asked through his sobs why someone would do that.

This morning  I asked his little brother what they talk about at school.  He told me at lunch that they talk about the bad guy who broke into the theater.  He told me they talk about the missing girl.  I told him the missing girl was found, that someone had hurt her, that someone had killed her.  He asked me why that person would steal her if they were just going to kill her.  I told him I don't know.  He doesn't have the same details that his big brother has.  He doesn't need the same details that his big brother has.  But he knows that he can ask us questions if he has them.  He knows home is a safe place to feel what you need to feel.  But it isn't affecting him in the same way as it is affecting his brother.

This parenting stuff is hard.  Helping my kids to feel the emotions that they need to feel and to walk alongside of them as they process is important.  It is also hard.  I understand why some parents choose to not talk to their kids about issues.  It is painful.  It hurts to see pieces of your child's innocence taken away.  It is a very helpless kind of feeling to have your son break down into gut wrenching sobs in your arms and know that you can't make it better.  It is very humbling to have no words of comfort and to only be able to pray that the Lord will bring us His comfort.

Fifty Shades of Heartbreak

It's the hottest book series on the market right now, Fifty Shades of Grey.  I heard it was like the adult version of Twilight, with lots of racy adult scenes.  I read the back cover and didn't seem too intrigued.  The intrigue came when a firestorm of a debate came on Facebook.

My friend was heavily attacked because she had read the book and enjoyed it.  Someone "unfriended" her sending an email criticizing this friends Christianity, her marriage, and her desire to read such wonton hussy books.  That did it.  My friend is one of the sweetest people on the planet.  She is kind and doesn't judge others.  She is an amazing woman, a wonderful wife to her military man and a fabulous mother to her girls.

I was pissed that she was judged so harshly (by someone who had not read the books, no less) and suddenly I wanted to read them.  I wanted to know what the big deal was.  The last things that sparked huge controversy in the Christian community ended up being series that I now love, Harry Potter and Twilight.  This, I expected, would be the same as those.

So here is my thoughts on the book, there is a bit of a spoiler alert but not much more than the review on ABC news and for some, this spoiler alert is needed.  I could have used it. 

The book is racy.  The part where they first have sex made me ravenous for my husband.  It created a physical response in me so unbelievably strong that I wished Hubby wasn't already asleep.  I'm not opposed to racy in a book.  I am opposed to this book though.

Christan Grey asked Ana to sign a contract allowing him to be her dominate and her to be his submissive.  The contract states that if she is not submissive to his every whim that he has authority to "discipline" her.  He has any number of ways that is accomplished, through a belt, a whip, a cat of nine tails, a cane etc.  He was made to be a submissive through his teenage years and that is where his dominating sexual appetite comes from. 

I had to close the book.  My heart was racing and not with desire.  My heart was racing with fear.  Now I have a wild side.  But this was just too much for me.  Memories flooded my mind.  I couldn't sleep and when I did it was not well.

This morning I picked the book up again.  I thought that possibly I had over-reacted.  Maybe I was just tired and that is what sparked those feelings.  Maybe Ana doesn't actually sign the contract.  Maybe it really is a love story like everyone said.  I started reading and felt that same sick pit in my stomach again.

I flipped later in the book.  He was beating her with a belt.  She was in her mind crying and begging him to stop but never saying a word.  (I also read the last few pages but I won't spoil that part for those of you who don't want to hear the end.) I can't do this book.  I pushed it away from me while the tears sprung up.  I understand the sexual appeal of some of the things in the book.  I cannot handle though, the physical aspect of how those sexual moments come to be.

I've been held down, unable to move while someone forces his hands on my body.  It wasn't love, that is for sure.  I've been hurt for not doing as I was told.  It isn't as glamorous as this book portrays.  I guess my thought is this, sometimes I do enjoy doing exactly as my husband says.  It can really be a turn on.  But he would never beat me if I didn't.  That is my issue.

How does loving someone ever mean wanting to beat them?  How does loving someone ever mean wanting them to hurt?  Submitting and hurting are different things.  I personally feel like it crossed the line into abuse.  I'm just not ok with it.  I'm not ok with telling other women that it is ok, good even,  to be beaten for sexual pleasure.

I'm sure that someone out there is going to bring up that Ana willingly signed the contract, that she desired to be hurt and that makes is why it is different from abuse.  I've heard that argument but I still can't go with it.  For me, in my life, coming from my past, this book is too close to the abuse that I suffered and I cannot bring myself to relive it from the perspective of someone who willingly subjects herself to it.  Your opinion may be different, and that is ok.  We can agree to disagree.

Right now I am nursing my fifty shades of broken heart.  Though I am not a spoiler alert kind of gal, I really wish someone has given me a spoiler alert.  I would have never read this book.  It was just too triggering for me.  I'll be ok, but I'm not right this moment.  I'm hurt.

old territory from a new perspective

There is something really big weighing on my mind.  For the first time I have to deal with the reality of childhood sexual abuse as an adult.  I have friends who are dealing with big stuff right now.  There has been sexual impropriety between their young children that will result in a foster child needing to be placed with a different family. 

As the little girl who wasn't protected, I am so grateful for the steps being taken to protect the other children in the home.  On behalf of those children, I want to hug the parents and social workers and say thank you for stopping it while it is still impropriety before it becomes full fledged abuse.  I want to hold the child affected by the actions and never let go. 

As a parent, I ache for my friends.  I can only imagine the pain of having to say goodbye to this child who has been part of their family and they were trying to adopt to make him forever a part of their family.  I cry thinking of having to say goodbye to one child in order to protect another.  I cry thinking about needing to protect the other. 

As someone who loves this child dearly, I want to hug him tight.  I want to make the wounds of the past better.  We don't know what his past held, but based on some of his incidents, I would guarantee that he was exposed to some form of sexual inappropriateness.  I want him to be free of this.  I don't want to see him labeled as the bad guy.  I don't want to see him grow up, never dealing with whatever it is that has gone on, or for him to become the attacker.  I love him and I want the best for him.  I love him and I want him to have a family who loves him as much as he has been loved by my friends. 

And selfishly, I ache because the child we have to say goodbye to is my sons best friend.  I don't want to have to tell him that his best friend is moving away but best friend's family is staying, that we will still see the family multiple times a week but the family will be minus his best friend.  How do I explain this to my son?  How do I tell him and not have him fearing that he will have to go live with a new family if he is naughty?  How do I comfort my son when he has to hear that his best friend has moved away when this is the child I get asked DAILY if we can play with?

There are a lot of emotions going on inside me right now.  I bounce back and forth among them.  There is no good answer.  It hurts.  It hurts on so many different levels and in so many different ways.  As I told Hubby yesterday, I don't know how to do this.  I don't know how to walk through it, much less how to guide my children through it.  And I'm scared.

**** to my dear friend,  I remained as vague as possible, not sharing names or specifics.  But if you read this and I have said more than I should legally or more than you are comfortable with, please let me know and I will delete this post.  I had to process what I was feeling before it swept me away and this was the easiest outlet tonight. *****

allowing sad

I woke up sad today.  I did what I usually do, I tried to tell myself that it was stupid for me to be sad.  I thought about all the blessings in my life and thought about how many I know who would trade places with me in a heartbeat.  I thought about people who have it much worse than me and told myself I don't deserve to be sad. 

But the truth of the matter is that it is ok that I woke up sad.  Tomorrow we lay to rest a man who died long before his time (at least on our timeline).  Tomorrow we lay to rest a man who was part of our family, long before we are ready to.  And I'd be dead inside if that didn't affect me in some way. 

It is hard to give myself permission to be sad.  Hubby told me it is good to feel my feelings.  I know he is right but being allowed to be sad feels very unnatural still.  Accepting my sadness feels like a betrayal of all that I have ever known.  This is such a strange thing to say, especially since I suffer from depression and wake up sad often.  Even on those days though, I still berate myself for feeling down.

I guess I thought if I wrote it, then it would be easier to accept.  I'm sad.  I am sad for our loss.  I am sad for the loss for Hubby's uncle and aunt.  I am sad for the loss for Cousin's wife and 3 little ones.  I am sad and it is ok and natural for me to feel sad.  And all that said, it still makes me feel a little anxious and ill at ease to try to accept my own feelings instead of burying them.

lurking and growing up

The tears are lurking again.  I can feel a weight behind the happiness.  I had the realization a couple of days ago that I was only 3 years older than my son is now when I tried to commit suicide for the first time.  I felt so grown up, like a very old soul, at the time.  But the reality is that I wasn't.  I was 12.  At 9 I was praying that I wouldn't grow up to be fat like my mom.  At 12 I was swallowing pills and truly it seemed like I had endured far more than a measly 12 years of life.  At 14 I had begun to starve myself.  I felt so old and yet I was really so young.

Thoughts like that scare me about my kids getting older.  My son has a crush on a girl at school.  He doesn't really understand his feelings, just that they are big feelings.  He drew a heart on his leg with their initials drawn in it.  He gets all smiley and goofy at the mention of her name.  He is growing up.  And I am glad he is growing up.  I hope his teenage years are much more like his daddy's than like mine.  I hope that thoughts of suicide never plague him.  I hope his little comments about not needing to lose weight yet, and rarely wanting breakfast before school don't turn to haunt him with a life of ED.  I read stories about the Penn State scandal and I pray he never has to understand abuse.

I want the life for him that I didn't have.  I want him to know safety and security that I pretended in my mind but didn't think existed when I was his age.  I hope when he is a teenager that he doesn't drink until he passes out simply because it hurts to live his life.  I hope he tells his wife of fond memories of when he was a child.  I hope he smiles at his kids and laughs as much as his daddy does. 

I know I can't protect him from all hurt.  We all get hurt.  Hurt is part of life.  I wouldn't want to either, it would be living in a delusion for me and cause even more hurt for him and for me.  But that said, I pray his hurts never carry him down a road of self loathing.  That they never carry him so far that he forgets he is loved.  That they never carry him to needing to cope with the after effects of molestation, eating disorders, or suicidal tendencies.  In short, I pray he never has to live my life.  I hope so much more for him!

sad

I'm unbelievably sad today.  It's not the kind of depression that makes me so low that I nearly feel numb to life around me.  It isn't the kind that feels so hopeless that I cannot function.  It is just the kind that longs for a bubble bath and a really long cry.  The problem is that I don't even know what I want to cry about and I don't feel any tears behind my eyes waiting to slip from my eyes to roll down my face.  How can I feel an overwhelming sadness and not have a reason to be sad or a way to let the sad out?  Oh the joys of major depressive disorder and the effects it has on living life.  And the really sad part is that my medicine is actually helping and yet I still feel this way.