The Little Things

Sometimes, in the midst of great sadness, or crisis we feel totally useless. As if we have nothing to offer. This is true at times like now when we are all mourning a great tragedy. It is also true at times when the only sadness or tragedy is personal. One of the things I struggle with when I am dealing with my depression is the feeling that I am not helping anyone else. Helping, teaching, sharing my stories with others is one of the things I know I am supposed to do with my life.

When my life struggles get in the way of that, it compounds the issues for me. There are very few things in life that I use the word hate for, but one of the things I do use it for is this. I HATE feeling useless. I HATE feeling that I am not encouraging and supporting others in my life as I should.

But this is simply not true. This is one of those things that I need to remember to take my own advice. I need to remember when I start feeling unneeded and useless to ask myself the same questions I have counseled others to ask.To ask yourself if the things you are saying to yourself are the truth, or if they are just negative untruths you have learned over the years. Most likely they are untruths, because the truth is each one of us is a beautiful, worthwhile individual, deserving of the very best thoughts. So the next time you here yourself say something untrue about yourself, STOP, and replace it with a true statement. How will I know it is untrue, you ask? Here is the best test, would you say it to me, or any one of your friends? If not, then it is untrue, replace with something true!!

So, in a conversation this morning I said to a friend that I feel guilty for the times when I am mired in my depression and I am not helping someone else. She said to me, "You help us all by just being yourself, and though you might not feel strong, we know you are strong." Now, if you asked her she might think that statement was just a little thing, but to me it was huge.

After this conversation, I got dressed to go out and take care of some errands. It's been cloudy and dreary here for days, and of course, it's just a few days before the shortest day of the year, so sunshine has been at a premium. I am one of those people who NEEDS the sun. Dark and gloomy really gets to me. So, while getting ready this morning, I felt the need for some color. I pulled out a summer skirt and top that are splashed in bright blues, greens and orange shades. One of my favorite summer outfits-bright and filled with sunshine! This choice was a small, insignificant act on my part. I just felt the need for a bit of color in a sad dreary time. But, this small insignificant act in my life reminded me in the next 2 hours that small things, the little things, have great value.

In the 2 hours I spent running errands, at each of the 3 places I stopped, the first thing I heard were compliments on my outfit. The lady coming out of the convenience store as I was going in smiled at me.

"What a lovely skirt." she said.
"Thank you, I just felt the need for some color this morning"
"I'm so glad you did. Maybe we all do, thank you."

A perfect stranger thanked me for wearing a bright sunshiny skirt. Now I was smiling. My small, insignificant choice made her smile, and her compliment made me smile. I am not useless, she is not useless. We were both used to bring a bit of light to an otherwise gloomy day. Yes, it truly is the little things in life!!
 
In this life we cannot do great things.
We can only do small things with great love. ~Mother Teresa~

More thoughts on our loss

When you write a blog, you put your thoughts out there for all to see. I am often astonished to look at the stats for my blog. I have followers around the world(bless each and every one of you). I have friends in other countries, so I assume I will see those countries, but I know no one in Russia, Malaysia, Indonesia, and many other countries. Yet, they read my thoughts. So, yesterday, in the midst of our nations grieving, I chose to blog some of my thoughts.

Now, my thoughts are mine. I received many messages of support for what I wrote, but I also received more than one message telling me I was wrong. Which is fine, because we all bring our own experiences to any issue. But, at some point, we have to be willing to discuss.

My experiences and beliefs lead me to weep for all who died. Yes, as I said yesterday, I include the young man and his mother in my prayers. Someone told me that they just couldn't understand praying for someone who was pure evil. They couldn't understand that I could differentiate between the tragedy being monstrous and the young man being a monster. Let me tell you why I weep for Adam.

I read the descriptions in the papers this morning of his behaviors in school. Those who know me can guess who I immediately thought of. I could have been reading about my son. I immediately had the thought that I could have been Adam's mother.Yes, I pray for Adam. I can not think of him as monster, or evil. I will not, as someone said I should, call him IT. When I pray for Adam and his mother I will call him Adam. Just as I will call all of the children and adults who died by their names when I pray for them and for those who mourn them. Just as I call the 22 year old who killed my husband Jessica in my daily prayers.I will continue to pray for Adam, and for each and every one of our children who were lost in this tragic, horrendous act. I will not call anyone IT, I will not think of anyone as pure evil or a monster, because there is a part of me that thinks that is perhaps part of the problem. We demean and dehumanize when we stop thinking of human beings as human beings.

There are so many issues that need to be discussed, so many. We will not all agree on how to change things, but I honestly think we can all agree that some things need changed. It is possible to have friends that you are diametrically opposed to what they support and still remain friends. I know this because it is true in my life. I have friends from all political and religious parts of the spectrum and we love each other. I think it maybe because while we can think the person is wrong or misguided we can respect that they have the right to feel and believe what they do. We understand that people can honestly look at things and understand them differently. Different doesn't mean someone is right and someone is wrong, it simply means different.And, honestly, differences can be discussed without demonizing or marginalizing the other persons opinion. In fact, as members of society we should each make it our project to bring the civic conversations in this country back to this.Because, the truth is, words have power, and you have no way of knowing who you are hurting with your words.


So many issues that need to be discussed. We owe it to all of the ones we lost to make sure these things get discussed. I refuse to believe that now is not the time. It is past time, and we all need to make sure that we don't get through the next few days in our grief and then return to business as usual. We all need to make sure that all of the issues can be discussed, and addressed. Because,I can not stop feeling that I could have been Adam's mother.

I'll be writing a lot about my thoughts and experiences in this our time of loss. I will inspire some, I will offend some, but I will continue to share-because all of the children were our children and we all mourn, and writing is one of the ways I mourn.



All human beings are limbs of each other,
having been created of one essence.

When time affects a limb with pain,
The other limbs cannot at rest remain.

If thou feel not other's misery,
A human being is no name for thee.

great iranian poet - sa'adi - c. 1210-1290
 

Once again

Once again, our nation reels in the aftermath of the unthinkable. We see our friends on fb and message boards trying to come to terms with the horrors of a mass shooting. It's been a difficult week for our national psyche.

It's been a hard week for our personal psyche.

I wrestle with this as someone whose body and psyche bear the scars of gunshot wounds from random gun violence; as the widow of a man killed by a drunk driver;as the parent of a young adult male blessed with autism; as someone who was diagnosed with bipolar disorder at 19-and has managed to have a good life;as someone who who has friends who own guns, and friends who don't. There are no easy answers, but it is past time for the conversations to take place

There are many levels of conversation that need to take place.I cringed when I heard the words autism and aspergers in the news yesterday. It is difficult enough for my gentle giant man-child to walk through a public place without hearing hateful words being directed at him. We don;t need the additional stigma. There are those thinks meds should be banned-we have no knowledge of any meds yet. I take meds for mental health issues, and they make my life better.There are those of us who think reasonable gun control laws will help.There are those who think we all need more guns (have to admit that one eludes me)There are just so many different issues here. I admit that when I heard that the guns belonged to his mother I had difficulty wrapping my head around a mother with a child with some issues having a Bushmaster .223 semi-automatic rifle and body armor in her home. But, saying that gets me lambasted by my friends who own guns. There has to be a way for us to discuss ALL of the issues in a reasonable way.I don't know that there are any easy answers, I do know that we have to discuss these things.



Many Americans want reasonable controls on who can purchase firearms, when, how, and what kind. They don't want to interfere with hunting or keep non-violent law abiding people from having a registered handgun at home for protection, but required safety classes, no semi-automatic weapons, waiting periods, registration, and no criminal records seem reasonable enough. But,I get that there is disagreement, I just think we have to stop lining up against people with differing opinions and seek a reasonable compromise. Come let us reason together.

I see my fb feed filling up with people who are asking their friends to post 20 stars for the children and 6 stars for the adults who were killed yesterday. I get that. But for me there were 8 adults killed yesterday and my prayers have to include the young man and his mother. I have to pray for them all.

I see comments everywhere referring to the young man as a monster, a psychopath, sociopath, evil, etc. I get that, but I cringe when I read that, because we have no idea exactly what happened in this young man's brain. I can agree that what happened was monstrous, horrific, and has changed us all. I have to include him in my prayers, because in my faith traditions, he is being held and healed by a loving Creator.More than one person has commented that they looked at his picture and could tell he was evil. I looked at his picture and wept for the sweet child I saw. I  have to pray for the father and brother who are left to mourn in the midst of unthinkable pain.

So many conversations need to happen, and while we are numb with shock and grief,we can still begin to have those conversations. Conversations about gun controls, conversations aobut mental health issues, conversations about a society that seems to glorify violence. All of these things need to be discussed. Not with finger pointing and rancor. Not with defensive posture towards those whose ideas are different than ours. But with compassion, and caring, and civility. We seem to have lost that, and perhaps that is also one of the things we need to discuss.

We're all reeling over the news. Believe me, I get it. In addition to the sense of helplessness, disbelief,and shock we all feel when these things happen, it brought lots of memories up for me. I am a gun violence survivor. Random, senseless violence. It leaves us all reeling. But, it is time to move forward after the shock wears off. It is time to come together, to reason together over the multiple issues at work here. It's past time.

 

As I pray for each family of the 28 people who were killed I will go back to the poem that has brought me solace in the violent death of my husband...may each one who mourns be comforted...

Love is stronger than death.
So I must be content to know that
love is not affected by death--
it doesn't end, it doesn't diminish,
it doesn't change.
Instead, love is immortalized
and eternalized through death.
And the possibility of that love ever
being damaged or broken
is eliminated forever.
I'll put my trust in love.

 

For My Friends

So, I have asked for prayers and healing energies a couple of times this week, and I Have some amazing friends who do just that. Thank You. I am in need of some miracles right now, but the one thing I know I have is the love and support of many friends across the country.

So, this morning as I attempt to keep myself sane for one more day, I thought I probably owe some explanation to those loving caring friends.More than that, I owe a deep debt of gratitude to those who have been praying and sending love and energies.Believe me the gratitude is much easier to convey.

I am depressed, more deeply depressed than I have ever been, or than I ever thought I would be. I have dealt with depression all of my life, and like many, when I am managing it I think I will never get here again. But here I am.

This is a good news bad news situation for me right now.

 The bad news, I have lost 9 months of my life to depression, I have let my life slip away, not taking care of the things I need to, and not realizing how deep into the pit I had sunk. When you are in the deep dark place you don't always realize that is where you are. Your thinking is so screwed up, your head filled with the fears, and guilt and shame and hopelessness.

The good news, I only lost 9 months. I have been nearly this depressed before, and it took me nearly 3 years to figure out that depression was the issue and that I wasn't going to be able to manage it on my own.  But that was a very long time ago, and I honestly thought I would never allow it to happen again. That seems like such an arrogant line of thought this morning.

The bad news, asking for help is the single most difficult thing for me to do, ever.I have known I was depressed for months now, but did not have the strength to do anything about it. I would get up in the morning thinking I could take care of the things I needed to and end the day thinking abut how I failed but that  I will be stronger tomorrow. The good news, I had enough strength to ask for my friends to send me love and energies,and I was able to make the phone call and get an appointment with the county mental health organization.More good news, I was able to call a friend and admit to her how bad I have screwed things up and say the 3 most difficult words in the  world, I need help.The very best good news is my friend knows how hard that is for me and immediately loved me through that conversation.Allowing someone to-help me has always been the most difficult thing for me to do, so once again I have the opportunity to overcome that particular obstacle in my life.

The bad news is I am afraid. The good news is I am stepping into that fear. I have often quoted a line from one of my favorite books...Fear is the mindkiller.It truly is.It has taken me over and robbed me of my ability to participate in life. When Mr. Bill was alive, he helped me cope with the fears and so I rarely had to let anyone else see how deeply controlled me. One time in the midst of a panic attack he made the remark that I was so strong most of the time that no one but him had any idea that instead of a competent woman I was just a scared little girl. Well, this scared little girl doesn't have her knight in shining armour to help her cope, so she has had to step into the fear and ask her friends. You have no idea how hard that is.

I know I have always been open about the fact that I deal with depression. What I haven't been aware of is that I haven't been able to deal with it this year. But that's the bad news, the good news is I have taken some baby steps. I have made the appointment, I have reached out. Two things so difficult for me right now that they are making me physically ill. But, I did it.

So many care about me,which at this time in my fear doesn't really make sense to me.So many wanted to know what was wrong that I thought this was the easiest way to tell you all. Several have asked how can they help, and right now I honestly don't know how to answer that other than to say keep praying and sending me loving energies. The physical, mental, and financial hole is deep, but with the love of my friends I think I can find a way to start to climb out. A few months ago a friend of mine told me she missed me, and my answer is  I miss me too, and I want to find me again.

So keep praying, keep the love and energies coming, you have no idea how much they mean to me. It's the only way I'll have the strength to start to find me.



 

Always Say I Love You

Today is a hard day for me. Just a couple of short years ago I went to bed on August 22 married to  a great husband and father, and woke up on August 23 his widow. The grieving process seems to be taking me a very long time-but as my therapist says it takes as long as it takes. Part of the problem is that so much else has gone wrong in my life since my husband was killed, but that is a subject for other days.

Today, I will grieve, but I will also know that I am surrounded by the love and caring and support of family and friends and even a few strangers. Today, in the midst of my grief I will temper the sadness with remembering the good, sharing the blessings.One of the most difficult parts of being a widow, is that there is no one to talk to in the middle of the night. Mr. Bill and used to talk to each other for hours at a time. We were very much blessed by being very much in love, but we also genuinely liked each other.

One of the things that made our marriage good was that we talked to each other. If I were giving advice to those getting married it would be to set aside time every day-no matter how busy or hectic your life can get-to talk to each other.Talk about your life, talk about your dreams, talk about the weather-but talk to each other.The other advice I would give is never end a conversation without saying I love you.

Now, I know that sounds a bit contrived, but Mr. Bill and I never regretted making it a rule for our life. Believe me, many,many minor disagreements were settled with just those 3 words. Major disagreements brought into focus, routine conversations made sweeter.It was such a habit for us, that if a phone conversation ended without it being said, we immediately called back.It was a habit that we extended to our conversations with our son-much to his chagrin sometimes. But, hey, isn't it a parents job to make their teenage son squirm?

But doesn't constantly saying I love you trivialize the sentiment? Doesn't it change the 3 most important words in the language into something less meaningful when it simply becomes a habit? My answer is HOW? How can you ever make love not meaningful. I grew up in a home where the words I love you didn't exist, and when I finally found love I knew never to take it for granted. Never. I remember the first I knew what love truly was, and the overwhelming sensation that enveloped me. Not something I would ever be able to take for granted. That was one of the reasons Mr. Bill and I made it a habit to always say I love you, we knew that love was so important that we must never take it for granted.

On that August 22nd, Mr. Bill had started a new job, and we worked different schedules that day. He called me from his new job on every break. That was another one of our habits, we called each other on our breaks. That night, I was at home,and he called me on his breaks and lunch. The last time we spoke was about 11:00 pm. He told me he would be working until about 2:00am, and for me to not wait up. "Take your medicine and go to bed," he said, "you'll  wake up when I get home.I love you." My answer was "OK, wake me up so I can hear about your new job. I love you." I took my medicine and went to bed.

My husband coming home from work wasn't what woke me in the early hours of August 23rd. A Highway Patrolman knocking on  our door to inform me that my husband had been killed by a drunk driver on his way home from that new job is what woke me.While I will never forget that moment when I opened the door and what that highway Patrolman said to me, the more important thing is I will never, NEVER forget that the very last words my husband heard from me,and that I heard from my husband were I LOVE YOU.

Always tell those you love that you love them. Never let a conversation end without reinforcing that.Life can change in the blink of an eye, and if you didn't say it you may not have another opportunity. Make it a habit, make it meaningful, never ever take love for granted.

Always say I love you.

 

Words have Power

So, here I am again this morning upset by something on the news. Now, I have mentioned before that I have a major depression disorder. I have mentioned that I am struggling right now to bring myself out of one of the deepest depression episodes I have ever had. It isn't easy, and I am not talking about it to garner sympathy. I talk about it because I know I am not the only person who struggles, and if my being open and transparent about it helps even one person know they are not alone, then it is good for me to talk about it. It's not easy to share about something as misunderstood as depression, especially when you are someone who is often the one your friends count on for encouragement and inspiration.But it seems important to share.

Some days I think must have fallen asleep and awakened in a different universe. Or maybe I am just getting old,but honestly, I don't remember civil discourse being so polarized and divided when I was younger. People have always disagreed, not seen eye to eye on things from religion to politics to current events to sports. I think, back before we communicated through a keyboard we remembered that those we disagreed with were fellow human beings because we were looking them in the eye.It was possible to engage in spirited debate and still remain civil.

It is possible to have friends that you are diametrically opposed to what they support and still remain friends. I know this because it is true in my life. I have friends from all political and religious parts of the spectrum and we love each other. I think it maybe because while we can think the  person is wrong or misguided we can respect that they have the right to feel and believe what they do. We understand that people can honestly look at things and understand them differently. Different doesn't mean someone is right and someone is wrong, it simply means different.And, honestly, differences can be discussed without demonizing or marginalizing the other persons opinion. In fact, as members of society we should each make it our project to bring the civic conversations in this country back to this.Because, the truth is, words have power, and you have no way of knowing who you are hurting with your words.

So, this morning, I actually woke up felling a bit stronger. I do have some great friends,and like my last post talked about, even in the midst of my struggles there are Everyday Miracles and good medicine. Now when I reminisce about the fact that people were nicer to each other back in the days when we could see each other I am in no way disparaging the community that can be created in cyberspace. I have made some amazing friends on message boards and facebook. In fact, for someone like me who is disabled and doesn't get out much anymore, social media can be a lifeline. but it can also be a minefield.

So, what has me so upset? Well, summer isn't good for me anymore anyway. My late husband's birthday, our wedding anniversary, and in 2 days the anniversary of his being killed by a drunk driver tend to not help me deal with my depression. But, I hang in there the best I can, and struggle through. This summer has been even more of a minefield, with the shootings in Colorado and Wisconsin. I am a survivor of random gun violence, and so the news tended to trigger my panic/anxiety issues. This week, it's the war of words over rape. Honestly, my PTSD kicked in the minute I read the first article.

I am a rape survivor, and really, I thought we had come so much farther in our thinking. I am not addressing the political aspects of this weeks brouhaha. I am just reacting to the insensitive words used by so many. In 1983, I was attacked and raped. I ended up in the emergency room with lumps and bruises and a broken collarbone. I dealt with the misogynistic treatment at the hands of the police and prosecutor's office. Apparently, since I wasn't a virgin, they felt it would be hard to prosecute. Crazy? Yeah, it was. The treatment I received from the authorities was, even in 1983, backwards and anachronistic. The man that attacked me went to jail, but ONLY because after he attacked me he went on a rampage and took an axe to a pay phone at a gas station. I guess I should have just considered myself lucky he didn't get the axe out of his car trunk until after he left me broken and bruised  in the alley behind my house.

I honestly thought we had come farther than that kind of thinking, but as I read comments on facebok and news pages, I see that we haven't. I feel like women my age should apologize to younger women. We thought we fought the battles for fair treatment and won them. Maybe we just thought once we achieved better it would stay that way, and apparently we have dropped the ball.

In can honestly accept that people have different political or even religious beliefs. What I can't accept is stone age language devaluing and trivializing rape. Words have power. No matter which side you are on in any debate, please, stand up for civility. Choose your words carefully, and ask others to do the same. The people those words hurt may be someone you love.

Everyday Miracles and The Best Medicine

I've had a really stressed out crappy day. Seems like they are like that lately. Life has been really hard,and quite frankly has worn me out. The months of triple digit weather have left me feeling depleted, physically, spiritually, and financially. After catching up the electric and gas bills,buying some groceries, getting my sons prescriptions filled, I am left with 86 cents in the bank and the low fuel light is on in my car. It is the 15th of the month, how is that supposed to work?

But, in the midst of all that, I am reminded that I am indeed blessed. I was able to catch up the electric bill, which was twice what I had budgeted the last few months because of those triple digit temps, because of a small miracle. I was sitting in my meditation spot, talking to Creator, wondering how to pay the bill.Nothing came to mind, I finished my meditations. Grabbed a cup of coffee and logged on the computer. There I was reading my facebook feed and I got a message from a friend. Check my paypal account. This friend had felt like I needed to be blessed. There was the money for to catch up the electric bill. Now I use the word friend, but this is someone who I have never met in person, someone I met in a community on the computer.Amazing. Even though we are not of the same religion, we both had our faith reinforced that day. I was reminded that in the midst of my stressed out crappy life Spirit still hears me and she was reminded that in the midst of some spiritual questioning she still hears Spirit.

A few days later, in another cyber community, I asked my friends to say extra prayers for me. That's all, I didn't share the need, I just asked for prayers, because being broke this summer because of the heat and everything costing too much is just not conducive to me climbing out of the depression I have been struggling with. But, one of the needs was the gas bill. Granted, I don't need the gas for heat, but hot water is a good thing.Later that day, I got a message from another friend-this one I have met personally, but we originally met online-again the message was to check my paypal account. There was the money to pay the gas bill and get some groceries.

So, I know that Spirit is aware of me, and that I have friends who hear Spirit. Those seem really rather miraculous to me these days.Depression is a terrible disease, one that take's a lot of my energy to deal with,and I just haven't had the extra energy lately. But, even though it feels like my steps forward can be measured in centimeters, I do think I am starting to move forward a bit,and as I am often heard to say...every step you take is a step away from where you used to be. Now it may only be a centimeter away, but it is away. So, here I am, struggling,and today just throws everything it can at me. That stupid low fuel light came on when we went to the library, and then we got home and on the hottest day of the week my electricity goes out. Now my first response was to panic. I opened the front door, and the stairwell light in our building was still on. Because while I had caught up, the next bill has arrived,and my anxious mind immediately thought they had turned my electricity off. Just then, the apartment door across the hall opened,and their electricity was off too. So, the neighbor heads down to the basement of the building and it turns out it was the circuit breakers for the ground floor apartments.  So, one more crisis averted.

Of course, my panic reflex had already kicked on, and so it has been a long afternoon. My pain level went up and I got a headache. Stress will do that, its the adrenaline I think. That's when the Best Medicine showed up. My son checked out a DVD at the library,and put it in the player. It is a DVD of all of the Tom and Jerry cartoons ever made, and so for the last hour my house has been filled with the most beautiful sound in the whole world, my son's laughter. Tom and Jerry cartoons are his type of humor, and his laughter seems to come from his toes,and fill his whole body-and he is 6' 7" tall, so that is a BIG laugh. A beautiful, musical laugh that makes me smile. It's been a while since I smiled,and today, after the stress, after the worries, I have been smiling for over an hour.

So, while I still have problems,and while I still have depression, I have managed to take a step away, a step filled with smiles, and that seems to me to be the very best thing in a long time. Just a few everyday miracles and laughter, the best of medicines. Spirit seems to be hearing me, don't you think?