recovery or recovering

Today I feel like I am "doing recovery" rather than recovering.  I think you have to have experienced recovery in some form for that to fully make sense.  I am tired.  But I'm tired because I'm depressed not because I haven't gotten enough sleep.

Yesterday, once again, I begged God to heal me.  I promised Him the world, just make this heaviness go away.  PLEASE!  Instead He filled my ride to work with songs about trusting God even through the pain, songs about how His love doesn't fail us even through the dark times, songs of reassurance but no songs of healing.

So once again, with a heavy heart, I am asked to trust what I cannot feel.  And I do.  And I will.  Even if the heaviness never leaves, He is God and He is good.

I saw this on Facebook last week.  I have to share it because it is true.

Yeah, I really am glad.  I'm glad you're here still.  I'm even glad I'm here still.  Keep pressing on.  Keep hanging on.  Keep doing recovery even when you feel like you are doing recovery not recovering.  Keep putting one foot in front of the other.  Keep doing the next right thing.  And next year we can all gather around each other and be glad that we are still here. 

a broken heart that must keep going

There is a difference between corporate grief and personal grief.  Though I am burdened and grieved one thing is different right now.  Though suicidal thoughts are swirling in my brain, and have been for a while now, in the midst of corporate grief and huge tragedy, I don't want my family to hurt the way that the families of these precious slaughtered children hurt.  My baby has been regularly breaking into tears telling me he is sad but doesn't know why.  I don't want to give him a reason to be sad.  My sweet, sweet family.  They need me, though I don't exactly always understand why. 

I'm emotionally exhausted.  News of another shooting didn't help that exhaustion.  My sweet boys.  I went into my youngest son's class at school yesterday, even though he was home sick.  I hugged his little friends and his teacher.  I thanked God that they were all safe.  I cried.  I won't watch the news.  I have taken a break from Facebook.  My heart was already full and about to burst.  Now I want nothing more than to hide under my blankets and never ever come out.

For the record, I've had more wine than usual tonight.  It was completely intentional.  I'm feeling tipsy.  I don't even care that I am.  I'm hoping the wine will kill the dreams of terror that have been haunting me.  I'm hoping the wine will mean I can sleep through the night tonight.  I'm hoping for a few short hours that the wine will erase the hurt I feel.  I'm heading to bed now.  Sorry if I've been spastic, I don't usually write when I'm feeling unsure of my brain.  I just tonight needed a safe place to say my broken heart is really heavy.

attack of the voices

not feeling well.  two of three kids are sick, like fevers and wicked cough kind of sick. struggling today.  my voices informed me that Hubby is a better mom than I have ever been.  he cleans and keeps up with the housework that I have never ever been able to.  there is no searching through piles of laundry to find school clothes anymore.  the longest the dishes have been behind was one day and that was due to sickness.  somehow he can do everything that I couldn't when I was the one home all day.  that was the last and most devastating of a string of attacking thoughts.  and now I'm going to go cry to bed and hope tomorrow sounds less painful in my head.

sleepless nights

I didn't sleep well last night, I was really restless.  Maybe it was because I didn't want to fall asleep because the night before I didn't sleep well either.  The night before, I had a nightmare.

In this nightmare, I was in a house that apparently I was familiar with and I heard someone yelling.  After a minute or so of hearing it, I realized that I didn't know where my youngest son was.  I started looking around the house and realized finally that the yelling was someone yelling AT him.  The yelling escalated to screaming at him.  I was trying to get to him but suddenly there were boxes and piles of papers and clothes blocking the hallway and I couldn't get to him.  The screaming escalated to hitting.  The person was beating my son while he whimpered and cried and I couldn't get to him.  I needed to protect my child and I couldn't get through the hallway to the room because more and more things were blocking my path.  Finally I screamed, "NOOOOO!" and lunged but the stuff still held me back.

There is no worse feeling in the world than feeling like your kids need you and you can't help them.  There is no worse feeling in the world than the one I had in my dream of listening to my son being hurt and not being able to stop it.  Thankfully, Hubby was awake for some unknown reason.  Apparently I whimpered and he woke me up.  My son was safe.  It was a dream.  No one was hurting my family.

Now I will tell you the real reason it bothered me so much.  The person hurting my son was someone who loves him.  It was someone who he loves.  It was someone who should never hurt him (and who in real life would NOT beat him).  It was my mother who was attacking my son.

I know all of the psychological reasons that I had the dream.  I was hurt and angry with my mom over something else that had happened in the day which is why she was the aggressor in my dream.  And I feared for a few minutes for my sons safety at a pool party when he went into the restroom with another little boy who has before made a point of repeatedly showing his "man junk" to my son.  The combination of wanting to protect my son and being hurt with my mother created this dream.  I know that.  It doesn't make it any less disturbing though.

My head hurts this morning.  Probably from lack of sleep this weekend.  I should be getting ready for work, instead I sit drinking coffee and typing.  I wish to insulate my heart from the world, but mostly from my mom.  I've been trying not to cry since yesterday morning.  My heart is very troubled today.  Pray for me today, friends.  Pray for God to wrap His arms around me today and for Him to bring healing balm to my wounded heart.

sometimes ignorance IS bliss

Thank you my dear friend for helping me fight today by feeding my family.  We are all grateful, me beyond words. 

Words fail me in trying to describe the battle inside of me.  I want to explain but it doesn't make sense.  Maybe it is better to stop trying to explain.  My thoughts are scary, vocalized they become terrifying. 

surreal, until it is real

Yesterday was about keeping it all together.  People I love needed me.  I didn't have time to fall apart.  And honestly I wasn't ready to fall apart.  I was shaken but I think I was in shock still.  The shock was too great to allow the emotion through.  I chatted online with my friend.  I told her I felt guilty for feeling so shaken because there are so many people who have more right to be shaken up than I do.  She responded with, "When it happens in your backyard, you have the right to be shaken."

My backyard.  Almost.  If I walk to the corner I can see the mall.  The theater is in the mall parking lot.  My Girl called last night (she needs a name, I talk about her far too often to keep calling her my friend.  For now she will be S until I decide on something better).  She asked if my boys were asleep.  When I said yes she asked if she could come over.  She wasn't hysterical anymore but I could hear the tears in her voice.

She walked in and I pulled her into my arms and held her while she sobbed.  And then I heard the words I hoped I'd never hear.  "Micayla is no longer with us."  I didn't know Micayla but S did.  Micayla was part of the group of friends that S was supposed to be with to see the movie.  Seven of her friends went, she was supposed to go.  Only one was physically injured, the one who died. 

When she heard of the shooting, S called her good friend.  He described the horror of a 6 year old girl screaming hysterically and the frantic rush to try to get out.  On the way out the 7 friends were separated.  He thought everyone was fine.  Then later he told her that Micayla was missing.  And then later she was confirmed dead.  My sweet S was supposed to be there.  It could have been her.

As I walked her to her car I was thinking how much I love her.  I introduced her to my dear friend and now neighbor. S tried to shake hands but my friend shook her head and said, "No, Honey.  You get a hug!"  As they embraced the emotion finally came.  I pulled S away and held her tightly.

We both sobbed.  I told her how much I love her.  I told her how relieved I am that she is safe.  I told her that I have never in my life been so glad that she was too tired to hang out with friends.  I told her that I can't imagine a world that doesn't have My S in it and that I'm so glad that I don't have to.  I didn't want to ever let her go.  Suddenly the reality and depth of my emotions hit me full force.

I slept poorly.  Guns and blood and bombs and screams filled my dreams.  I woke this morning to the sound of helicopters.  They have been flying over non-stop providing live aerial news coverage.  Helicopters and sirens and ambulances seeped into my sleep.  I was grateful this afternoon for a reprieve from the sound of helicopters.  The sound is disconcerting.

We had to tell our kids last night.  It was hard.  We had to tell them though.   The mall was closed.  Streets that we travel regularly were closed with police tape.  People in our church have lost loved ones.  They will hear about this, we wanted it to be from us.  Parenting is hard.  Telling your kids about bad people who make evil decisions is hard.  Reminding them that there are far more good people than bad people in this world is hard.  I have squeezed them extra hard today.  I've hugged them every chance I've had.  Tomorrow is not a guarantee.  Do the people you love know how much you love them in case tomorrow never comes for you to tell them?

Just Another Glass

Journal entry from an undisclosed amount of time ago in my recovery journey.  Substance trigger alert, It is a speed bump moment with alcohol.

Just Another Glass

If I have another glass of wine
Would I forget my name?
Would one more drink
Be enough
To finally forget my pain?

Can the sweet aroma 
Carry me away?
Could the smoothness 
Of the alcohol
Wash away my shame?

I know I can't forever hide
But just another hour please
To pretend that I am anyone,
Anyone who isn't me
Another hour to feel anything,
Anything except the pain
That threatens to overcome me

I need to start my period.  This entry isn't too far off from my feelings of hopelessness today.  I need to know if I am hormonal or massively depressed.  This isn't my typical for me but in reading through my journal today I realized how much I feel this poem today.

Niece

I'm worried about Niece.  She has been living on the streets and in shelters for months.  She called another family member last week, hysterical because she had been stabbed.  Turns out she wasn't stabbed per say but rather that someone threw a knife at her and it cut her arm.

This other family member went to pick her up and said she looks awful.  Niece has been cutting a LOT and has marks up and down her arms.  She also has needle marks from drugs. 

I saw a picture of her yesterday and wanted to cry.  She was wearing a shirt, not immodestly low-cut but low-cut enough for me to see that she has dark bruises all across her chest and collar bone. I am so heartbroken for her.  I wish I could help her and I know I can't.  She needs divine intervention, it is her only hope.

even though I walk through the valley

I'm up past bedtime but I can't seem to make myself go to bed.  That should be fun tomorrow for work.

I woke up with part of Psalm 23 going through my head.

even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, 

I will fear no evil, for you are with me;

your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

Those words have brought me comfort all day.  I have been really depressed lately.  I want nothing more than to hide under a blanket, curled up in a ball, and never come out.  And it has been a bit scary, to be honest.  I have a new job that I enjoy but I don't want to go to.  I have things that have to be done and all I can think about is when I can be alone and have no responsibility. 

I guess I would say I've been walking through the valley of the shadow of depression.  But I was reminded that He is still with me, even in the valley.  Today was a difficult day.  Mother's Day usually is but today was weird on top of all of the emotions going on inside of me.  I didn't feel like going to church, it meant having to pretend to be social and ok.  I went anyway, my friend was coming to pick me and the kids up for church and I wanted to be there for her. 

At church I was holding her two year old son and was asked by an older lady if I was grandma.  Yes, I did say grandma.  Seriously?????? I do not look that old! This year for Mother's Day the pastor gave the opportunity for people to say a quick word regarding a mom in their lives (their own mom, a mom important to them, their wife, etc).  Person after person stood up and talked about the love and support that their moms gave them.  And finally I started to cry.  My mom has never been the one who I feel will support me no matter what.  She has never been the mom who I can call when I've had a bad day.  She wasn't even someone I could call earlier this year when I was so sick that I could barely move for two full weeks.  Sometimes a girl just needs a mom, but when I need a mom, it isn't MY mom that I need.

Though I love that I get the privilege of celebrating with my own sweet children, Mother's Day is still a difficult day.  It is a day of remembering the years of longing for a child and wondering if my arms would stay empty forever.  It is a day of remembering that I have never had and likely never will have that soft, warm, accepting relationship with my own mother that I have so longed for.  It is often a day of feeling inadequate. 

This afternoon at the grocery store, I ran into an old acquaintance.  I had worked with her husband many years ago and been "friends" with her by default through working with her husband and being friends with him.  She informed me that she was leaving him.  Then she told me that she hasn't told him yet and that he will take it hard.  I didn't want to hear any of it.  Sigh, happy mother's day to me.

I was constantly reminded today that even though I'm walking through a valley, He is with me and He brings me comfort.  Today was a day that I needed comfort.  It was no accident that it was Psalms that was echoing in my brain from the very moment I woke up.  I want nothing more than to isolate and never speak to anyone again.  I want to curl up in a ball and cry for hours on end.  And somehow, someway, God is going to carry me through.  Somehow, someway, He will bring me comfort in the midst of the valley.

***** there was an upside to my day, not to sound like it was a completely horrible, awful, terrible, no good, very bad day.  My oldest son made me a necklace out of beads.  He worked so hard on it and did a great job.  My middle wrote me a book in which he told me that he loves me more than turtles (which if you have ever met this kid you would know that to say he LOVES turtles is a huge understatement) and that he loves me more than McDonald's.  I'm pretty sure that a child cannot possibly love more than that!  And my baby made me a card and a bookmark. I did enjoy my time with my little family, even in the midst of depression.  I'm so blessed that out of all the women God could have given these sweet boys to, He chose me to be their mamma!*****

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. *****

muse missing

My muse has been hiding from me for a while.  I think she's still hiding.  I've been really introspective lately.  I have had some good insights and some crappy days. When I think "I should blog about that"  I end up not wanting to sit down at my computer or it ends up being something deep and personal between me and God that I haven't been ready to share.

Today was one of those crappy days.  I restricted.  I counted.  I measured.  For the first time, I started picking at my skin and then forced myself to stop when I realized what I was doing.  I don't know why it was hard, it just was.  I really only wanted to run away.  I made it through though. 

I have interviewed for a new job, a position in ministry.  During the interview I was asked why I wanted to work for them.  I realized how much I want this job when I answered.  There are so many broken people in the world, so many broken women.  But that isn't how we need to live.  Jesus said he came that we could have life and have it more abundantly.  He came to heal our brokenness and I want to be a part of that.  I went to bed the next night in tears.  I am so very broken, how can I ever minister to others?  How can I help be a part of that healing with others when I still am broken myself?  I really want this job.  I've never in my life wanted a job because it is dear to my heart and what I would want to do even if money wasn't involved.  This time I do and yet I feel so unqualified when I look at my life.

finding strength

Grief is draining.  I feel physically and emotionally exhausted, as though I have nothing left to give.

But I know that isn't true.  Today, I gave my husband comfort, even though I knew I had nothing to give.  Tonight I gave my friend advice when she stopped by my work for a little bit, even though I knew I had nothing left to give.  Right now I am giving my youngest attention because he woke up and can't fall back asleep, even though I'm exhausted and have nothing more to give.

I feel like I have nothing in my reservoir to dip from.  And yet I know that somewhere deep inside, there is strength.  There is strength to wake up in the morning.  There is strength to fix my kids breakfast and get them to school.  There is strength to be there for my Hubby as he grieves.  There is strength that let me eat this week, even though it hasn't been quite enough or at all what I've wanted to do.

My cup still needs to be filled but I'm finding unknown strength in the midst of grief.  I had dreams all night about the casket being lowered into the ground.  Some of the dreams it was cousin's casket, some of them it was Hubby, some of them it was my dad-in-law and some of them I wasn't sure who was being lowered into the ground.  The finality of watching the casket of someone as it drops into the ground is disheartening and devastating.  It feels in that moment that you will drop to your knees in the weakness of grief and never be able to stand.  And yet somehow I found the strength to hold Aunt's shaking hand and walk her back to the limo.  Somehow I found the strength to hug Cousin's widow and apologize for letting the distance of 45 minutes be an excuse for letting our relationship with family slide to a back burner.

My body feels heavy with the weight of exhaustion and grief.  I am amazed at how tiring crying really is.  And emotionally, I'm spent!

my house is a cootie factory :(

My head and throat hurt really badly.  Blah.  I hate not feeling good.  And it is worse because my middle child is not feeling good either.  He is awake, throwing up.  Fast times at cootie high.

I understand the drill sergeant, task master that orange can be.  She's been beating me up pretty badly lately.  I couldn't stand up to her tonight at a Christmas party so she won and I had only coffee.  I was too scared to even eat the fresh strawberries.  Lame.

I had an interesting conversation with my mom today.  And when I say interesting, I really mean disturbing.  I need to process.  I am annoyed with her but even more so a little concerned at her ready acceptance of all things with out cross referencing her sources.  Pretty sure my head would have exploded if I hadn't had to cut the conversation short to go pick up my son from school.

And I got an update on my niece.  She is still at the hospital because she has refused to go home.  She said if she goes home, she will just run away because she will not live with her step mom.  So since she is a minor, they are keeping her, meeting with a social worker and trying to figure out what to do.  You know it is bad when you are halfway hoping that she will become a ward of the state so they will pay for her to go to the home for troubled girls (at least for a few more months until she turns 18). 

I'm very weary tonight. I'm feeling crappy.  I'm awake taking care of a sick kid though I'd love to be in bed myself right now.  I'm worried about my niece. I'm just weary.  I just want to sleep and sleep and sleep.