Saturday, March 31, 2012

Depression

A gravity of spirit
Exerting inner force
Pushing down
Holding down
Until you’re stuck

Legs too heavy
In cement blocks
Of scrutiny
Self loathing
Inside voices

Arms tied back
Society’s judgment
Holds tight
Don’t fight
No slack left

Eyes flutter
Peaceful Sleep entices
Siren voice
Be spells me
Sweet dreams


While I can relate to this piece, it isn't specifically about me or where I am today.  I had a difficult week at work.  Scary serious issues with my kids.  I've just been reflecting on the week as I tackle laundry and cleaning.  Thoughts led to words ratteling around in my head.  Which of course led me here. 

But just so you know, I'm not ready for an eternal slumber, and I don't have a plan or the means to carry it out.  And if you do, for goodness sake, call someone.  Then call someone else.  Scream if you have to.

And that reminds me of one of my favorite quotes by Maynard, loosely, "You have to scream from the back of the room to get everyone's attention.  But once you have it, you have to whisper to keep it."

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Memories

“Nothing fixes a thing so intensely in the memory as the wish to forget it.”  Michel de Montaigne

I heard this quote tonight at the end of my favorite show, “Criminal Minds.”  The episode was about a young boy who had been abducted and abused for years.  He was so emotionally damaged that when he was first discovered, he was afraid of touch and had been conditioned to want to be in the dark in a very small space, this as a result of being chained underground in a tiny space.  Morgan, one of the main FBI characters, had been abused by a childhood coach and was able to connect to the child, now nearly 16, because of a shared understanding of abuse and trauma.  Not just the mechanics of it, but the experience of it.

I found the whole show intriguing because of my own experiences with abuse over the years.  There are varieties of abuse but any kind of abuse also includes a component of emotional or mental abuse.  I have found this type to be the most lasting and devastating.  Physical wounds heal though they often leave scars.  Emotional wounds heal too, but I’ve found their scars to be more difficult to overlook. 

Scars on the body can often be masked or covered or just ignored.  Scars of the mind and heart are not so easily dismissed.  They can be triggered suddenly by seemingly insignificant things and lead to PTSD-like responses.

One example of this might be a person who smells something that triggers an automatic response.  Perhaps the smell of hazelnut coffee.  Smelling it could cause a person’s heart to beat faster, palms to sweat and generally lead to a panic response because of the connection the smell has to the past.  Perhaps the smell is connected to some repeated verbal assault.  This is a far more complex scar than an old lash mark on one’s back.

Now, I’m not suggesting that the physical scar isn’t significant, but I feel the emotional scar connected to it, the one in the mind, is more difficult to treat.

In one of my favorite P!NK songs, the lyric reads, 
           “You’re so mean, when you talk, about yourself you were wrong
                Change the voices in your head, make them like you instead."

Emotional abuse often leads to a person believing lies that get repeated over and over in her head.  Pink isn’t talking about literally hearing voices.  She’s talking about these voices that tell us we aren’t good enough.  That we’re stupid or fat or ugly or too much work or not good enough. 

And changing those voices is no easy thing.

It’s hard enough to make those changes when they come as a result of a normal life.  Of natural insecurities.  Of every day events that make us feel fear or worry or doubt.  But when those voices have been hammered into your brain by the pounding voice of another person.  By looks.  Jokes.  Humiliation.  Mockery.  Insults.  Those voices, are far more difficult to eradicate.

Those voices, those memories, are fixed far more intensely because of the very powerful desire to forget them.

“Voices,” which I posted some time ago, is about this very thing. I think what I’ve written above might cause it to make more sense to some.

P.S.  Sometimes people will go ahead and start drinking hazelnut coffee all of the time in order to push past and walk into the fear, changing the voice.






Monday, March 19, 2012

Faith Storm

Come sit on my porch
Listen to the thunder with me
We’ll listen to the chimes
And shiver in the stormy breeze
We’ll sip a cold one
Warming to the subject of past
Wounds scabbed and healed
Now faded, no going back
Watch the water roll
Ripping out in angry waves
Chain reaction flows
To slowly dying rage
Then breathe the night deep
Looking out to the billion stars
Smell hope on the wind
And imagine a hand so large
Crushing all worry
Uncertainty, fear and doubt
Holding His children
Protecting from lightning bolts


I was doing the usual get ready for bed routine tonight and decided to post on my sweet friend's Caring Bridge page.  I made a random comment that turned into late night inspiration.  There is a storm brewing tonight.  I'm currently sitting in the dark except for my screen and a nearby candle.  Listening to my wind chimes and the wind.  Enjoying the breeze until it slammed my porch door shut. 

It occurs to me that my sweet Darcie is in the midst of a storm that is raging in her body.  Chemotherapy thunder and lightning raining down.  But she is probably in a more peaceful place spiritually than ever in her life.  I admire her for that.  It reminds me of my Daddy.  She's got her enthusiasm socks on.  Just resting in His hand.

It also reminds me of the storm many of us go through in our faith.  I've been in that storm.  Wind blowing through, ripping my carefully planned life apart.  Rain drenching me while I dodge lightning bolts.  But even then I was in His hand.

Whether your storm is building, or you are in the eerily creepy eye, know that there is a hand big enough to hold you and keep you safe.

A Few of My Favorite Things - Spring Break Edition


In no particular order, these are some of the highlights of my trip and break.

  • The Grand Canyon
  • Seeing Lucy
  • Charlie drinking from the pool
  • Ryan calling Maddy “crazy kid” and her beaming smile
  • Late night talk with Renate
  • Ben’s clever Lego weaponry complete with sound effects
  • Jack’s discussion about Ninjago (no idea how you spell that)
  • Sleepover with Maddy
  • Jerry’s sweet “dad” words in the pizza place
  • JoAnn’s joy.  I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone else with her level of joy.
  • Watching Mom with JoAnn in church
  • Watching John cheer Molly up the rock wall
  • McDonald’s talk with Steve
  • Lazy morning no-kid chat with Erin
  • Watching Jessie play in her very creative costume
  • Watching Olivia watch the dog (I’d totally get you a puppy if I thought I could get away with it!)
  • Learning about circuits from Jake
  • Katie’s smile.  It’s like sunshine.
  • Griffin’s ticklish belly
  • Molly’s curls
  • Meeting Judah
  • Time left for spring cleaning and sleeping in when I got home

Thanks to the McDermitts, Palmers, and Selvidges for making this Spring Break extra awesome!

Monday, March 12, 2012

Sisters

What does it mean to be a sister?  Is it about having the same parents?  Shared growing up memories?  Is it about blood?  If it’s strictly about blood, I don’t have any.  If it’s more, then I have several.  Getting together with the Selvidge’s has gotten me thinking about sisters because I’ve always sort of thought of Erin and Renate as my big sisters. 

We don’t have the same parents, but I’m pretty sure that all of us got praised and disciplined by both sets of parents.  I know I did.  And as far as shared memories go, we have a lifetime of them.  We’ve all gone our own ways, but the magic of Facebook has shrunk the globe to allow us into each other’s lives again. 

And then there are my sisters-in-law.  Why is it necessary to even distinguish between sister and sister-in-law?  As far as I’m concerned, Dusty and Cindy also qualify as my sisters.  I share my brothers with them, and they share their children with me.  I won’t comment on who got the better deal…

It could be that having three brothers has motivated me to find sisters.  I’m pretty sure that I’ve gotten the best ones out there.  The following was written with them in mind.  We’ll see if they can identify themselves.  =]

Sisters

Midnight memories
Shared pain
Catching up

Rolling pie dough
Team work
Legacy

Birthday dinners
Full hearts
Welcome home

Distance learning
Skype tears
Tickeling arms

Facebook nearness
Bridge hearts
But not arms.