Pray... and Get In The Word aka Forgiveness

Tonight I was browsing Facebook.
One RealFood and NaturallyHealthy page posted a question.
"Someone has anxiety and wants to know how to help it. She's taken meds but would like to try natural."

Several people had good suggestions.
Three people in a row suggested she spend more time praying and getting in the Word.

I popped a gasket.

Really? That's all you have?

PEOPLE, let me tell you something...
When you have anxiety and meds helped, it is not a spiritual problem.
When you have anxiety that is not a spiritual problem, reading *can* be a huge chore.
When reading is a huge chore and that's the only answer you get?
Crash and burn and wish you could die are the only places lower.

I cannot tell you how pained I have been about this kind of response. Some of the people I expected to be supportive and kind and helpful, just thought I should go for a walk everyday. People who had been through HARD things in life, I expected might understand and be empathetic at least. Yet, they seemed clueless and worse, almost hardhearted. No compassion.

I have been faced recently with forgiving again. Many were the days when I cried bc of insensitive remarks and pushy suggestions along the lines of "Get over it". If that were possible, discussion would never have happened and the need would not have been...
But there was a need.  deep hard need. And a good walk everyday would not fix it.

Nor would praying and getting in the Word.
Remember my post about being autistic?
I could not read during that time.
The letters swam on the page.
More than swimming, they were not letters.
They were shapes.
Black on White.
Swirls on RoughGrain.

And all most people had to offer was take a walk and read your Bible.

And I am faced with forgiveness.
Again...

The Day I Realized I Was Autistic

I was sitting in church.
I was watching Jordan stim.
Rocking and fluttering his hands.
And I knew.

I had known my brain was not working right.
I had known my body was confused.
I had known that I needed help.

I knew what my head felt like.
I knew it would feel better if I did just what he was doing.
In fact, I was glad I had a baby on my lap.
That way I would not do something "foolish".*
I also realized I was rocking slightly...
As an empathetic response?

That day I knew I was autistic.
And I did not tell anyone.
For fear they would ...
lock me away? no.
commit me? possibly.
I don't really know what I feared, but I was scared to tell anyone.

In weeks and months to come I...
overcame?
grew out of?
healed?
And it was gone.

Last week I told someone for the first time that I was once Autistic.
It was freeing.
It was scary.
It is passed.


*I do not view stimming as foolish...

Merry Christmas!

No Resolution

To some things, there are no answers.
This is one of those things.

If I am to get moving,
I must be ok with that.

I am certain I will visit here again,
But I must - again - lay it down.

I am Sad, turning right on GonnaHideInMyRoom, in the middle of Anxiety Junction.
I've made Peace with being here.
Only for a little while, but peace nonetheless.

I Need A GPS

I am lost.
Or maybe I a stuck.
I think I am lost and stuck.
At the corner of Mad and Sad.
Anxiety Junction.
Between WannaBeatYouUp and GonnaHideInMyRoom.

Tina asked me today what I do with the struggles I have faced (referencing other peoples stupidity specifically).
I don't know how to answer that.
I am stuck.
I faced so many odd situations that I simply had to put out of my head.
I found peace.
I had to.
Now I am facing lots of them again.

The child that challenges everything.
The lady that blew me off in my deepest time of need.
The people that...
The husband...
The...

I need a GPS.

Anxiety Triggers

And the battle rages on.
My story was posted yesterday on WellMama.
It is so very scary.
What will people think?
What will friends ask?
How will my community respond?

I am have been pretty anxious for a a few hours.
I thought I was fine.
Scared, but doing ok.

Then I went to church.
One lady mentioned that she saw my facebook post and didn't have time to read it.
I wanted to die.
Yes, I put it on facebook.
Yes, I want my story heard.
But I thought I would die.

Then after service, a sister wanted some support.
She is facing a deep triggering anxiety for the next 30 hours.
It's real. It's legit.
It scares me.

I will truly be okay.
No one is in danger.
She is just facing a situation that is triggering.

I came home for lunch and I feel as if I can't breathe.
i had forgotten how this felt.
I had forgotten how scary it is.
I have forgotten how my nerves just fray.
I had forgotten how animated it can make me.

And now the fire station whistle went.
Fire trucks.
Ambulances.
Cops.
The weather is quiet.
The wind is still.
It is not raining.
Yet someone, somewhere needs them.
And I can't breathe.

I have never figured out why it triggers me so.
It has bothered me for a while.

I will be okay.
I have tools to deal with it.
I have support to lean on.
I will be okay.
But it scares me.

Going Public

This is my first publish.
I call it one step to a book...
http://www.wellmamaoregon.com/birth-trauma-ptsd-recovery-story/

Wow. I am so scared who may read this.
That book is going to be hard but I think it's important.

Vulnerable

Putting ones self "out there" is scary business.
Putting ones heart on the webs is crazy stuff.
But putting that web in the hands of your friends is more scary.

I am on a mission to overcome some of that craziness.
Maybe it's my pride.
Maybe it's my ego.
Maybe it's been my way of hiding.

If I am ever going to help people through the abyss I have traveled,
If I am ever going to help people support others intelligibly,
If I am ever going to help anyone, I must share myself.

Dear Friends, Welcome to my quiet grey world.
Quiet, because the noise of earth really bothers me.
Grey, because the white on a page is hard to read past - I have a brain injury.
My world.

Gut Wrenching

I can't describe to you how this song makes me feel.

For so long I had to live on a memory of why I thought I liked God.
And yet, when my head clears and my body functions, I remember.

I remember, but I struggle.
I need lots of input.
I need lots of reminders.
I need lots of reasons.

For so long, I felt guilty about not feeling Him.

Then I remember the moment in that horrible place when out of my groaning came the reply from my heart,
"This is how Jesus felt on the cross."
And I wonder why anyone gets to feel so dark and alone, so utterly desolate.

It's all very gut wrenching.

But it's my life.

And now for more groaning that cannot be well uttered...

Triggers Revisited

5 months ago I attended an ICAN meeting.
I had been so fine.
I was pretty much anxiety free.

Until it was my turn to tell my story.

Woah!
The fear and the choking and the anxiety.
I did not see that coming.
I totally did not expect it.
In fact I may very well have not gone if I had thought it would come.

It took days to return to my new normal.

4 days ago I attended another meeting.
I knew full well it may be a bit scary.
My consolation was there was a guest speaker.
I really wanted to hear what she had to say because she is on my radar as a future midwife.
What a great way to learn a bit about someone, eh?

We got the end of teh meeting.
People started sahring.
Some asked questios.
Some realyed fears.
More just listned.

I had only one moment of pulse-quickening.
And that was pretty legit because she was telling something hard/sad that affected everyone.

Then my heart was pretty calm...
The most negavtive response I've had it typing that poorly spelled paragraph above.
I'm leaving it for posterity.

Just Checking

So, I am thinking about a lot of things.
I may bring all my boggling here.
I may add another blog or maybe page for my art.
Don't get your hopes up.
My art is therapy, not Picasso.

What I really need to know is:
Who is reading this blog?
Will you please comment/email/text/pm and let me know?

Thank you.

O Joy

I am living high!!
I went to an ICAN meeting tonight.
I listened to many things.
And they all made me smile.

The only time I had any twinge of anxiety was quite legit.

I will make it!
I am okay!
I am scarred but...
Dare I say whole?

I will never be who I once was.
I will never have the story I always dreamed of.
I will always have scars.
They will always be there.
But they won't always hurt so badly the rest of life is foggy.

I am happy beyond words.
Happy.
Happy.
Happy.

Hurricane Hormone

Has been up graded to a Superstorm.
Stand by for orders.

Bwahahaha.

That was my fancy text of the day.
Sadly, I meant it.

After last weeks blighted ovum, I am a wreck.
I am hoping, hoping, hoping that I really do ovulate today.
Then I can get on with life.
I hope.

In other news, My boys were both insistent yesterday that God is giving us a baby sister.
We shall see.

More Business of Being Born

I started watching it today.
I didn't know what to expect.
I should have known.

I want to cry.
I want to give birth.
I really want to hunker down and go to sleep.

I have not been feeling real well.
This storm of emotion and struggle really brings out my need for sleep.
But more than needing sleep,
I long to be nurtured.
I long to be supported.
Moments ago I realized I need a post-partum doula.

I have just been "off" since my Serenity loss.
Now in the last cycle I think I had a blighted ovum.
I am so ragingly hormonal.
Puberty might be easier.

I have done the best I could today.
I finally packed up my boys and went for a drive.
When I stopped at the neighbors and talked to several friends, I just wanted to tell SOMEONE how I felt. How dry.
How sad.
How longing.
How tired.
How panicky this rain makes me.

Instead, we chatted about cider and apples and how I can't can.
Totally made me feel better.
(I also own oceanfront property in Arizona.)

Today is almost over.
Then I can start over.
I pray I will be born a better mama tomorrow.
I pray to be born

More Tears

My life long struggle is "will I ever quit crying?".
I struggle to accept tears.
I long to take them at face value and just let them go.
I fight to keep them in check.
WHY?

I really don't know.
Some days I wish I did.
Some days I just ignore it.

This last week has been incredibly teary.
I blame hormones.
I blame Jackson*.
I blame life experiences.

But I must stop blaming.
When I blame tears on things and people and stuff,
I am not cleansed by their exit.
When I am determined to figure out who, what and how,
I am not healed by their flow.

And so today I am going to cry.
Again.
And it will be okay.


*baby whose birth I attended...

The Business of Being Born

The truth is, it's not just babies that are born.
Mamas are born.
Papas are born.
Even Doulas are born.

In that one tiny moment I shall never forget, I was born.
Born as a care provider.
Born as an educator.
Born as a doula.

In that one enormously long second I shall never forget, I was changed.
Forever I am changed.
Forever my heart is different.
Forever .

I cannot find the words to tell you how much this whole process meant to me.
I will probably talk about it for a long time.
I hope you have the courage to stand by and listen.

New Territory*

I am in uncharted waters.
I have never been here before.
It is dark.
The water is rough.
The waves are choppy.

I wonder if I am going to sink or swim.
I wonder if I am on the right path.

Maybe this is a relapse.
Maybe this is just a hard day.
Maybe this is what real life is like.
I don't know. I've never been here before.

My mind is full of dark murmering.
Yet not fogged and o'ercome.
My head is full of questions unanswered.
Yet not blowing the top off.
My body is weary and tired.
Yet not sluggish to the point of no motion.

*found in drafts from a few weeks ago

Day of Hope

CarlyMarieProjectHeal.
She does some amazing work.
Today she has banded her BabyLoss Sisters.
For "Day of Hope".

Hope for Healing.
Hope for Grace.
Hope for Love.
Hope for more.
Hope to go on.

And I wait.
On my BabyofHope.
I had hoped...
so still and quiet.
Hoped.

But 'tis Hope deferred.
And I wait.

Waiting... again

So long I've been gone.
 It's all been good.
So much healing.
Physically.
Mentally.
Emotionally.
Even spiritually.

It's all coming along, slow but sure.
 And today, the waiting begins again.
There was a tiny life and now it is gone.
All along I've felt so strongly that
"God's got this".

 I rest in the knowing.
I long to be rested.

CouldaWouldaShoulda

Today is a hard day.
 I can hardly bear to admit it.
I have no solid idea what I need or want form today.
I just know that I can't stop crying.

So many things I wish I could undo.
So many things I wish I could redo.
So many things I wish I could just do.

 I felt it coming yesterday.
So many memories.
so many fears.
 So many tears.

I thought I'd be ok.
 I guess I am, it just doesn't look the same as expected.
 I'm not sure how to clear my head.
 I've not had problems with this day before.
Maybe that's good.
Maybe that is just a sign of how much more I need to pay attention.

 Coulda done better.
Woulda done better.
Shoulda done...

 But I did the best I could every moment of the way.
Maybe it did turn out best.
That's so hard to know.
 So hard to understand.

 What I do know is:
It's done.
 I can't undo it.
I did my best.
Most the pain is gone except what lives in my heart.
 Maybe one day that will be different too.