Why Pretending You’re Ok Is Dangerous?

“I was tired of pretending that I was someone else just to have a good relationship with people, for the sake of having friendships.”

-Kurt Cobain

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Okie dokie! I thought today, while staying in line about mental health awareness, it would be a clever idea to explore why we pretend that we are ok when we aren’t. And what are the reasons for doing this?

When someone asks, “How are you doing?” Most of the time they just expect the typical answer, “I’m fine.” Truthfully, though, most people do not don’t give a shit about how you are really doing. And when you tell them, you are met with an instant cellular retraction. You are seen as boundaryless or too overbearing. The truth, however, is that most people don’t know how to deal with anything that’s perceived as abnormal. My opinion is, “You asked how I was doing? So, guess what? I’m going to tell you exactly how I’m doing.” I do that sometimes just to see the reaction of others. 

When I was doing my undergraduate studies, one of my beloved professors explained this very thing. And ever since, I’ve assessed those theories only to prove them right repeatedly. I am not saying this as a blanket statement. But the truth is the truth. People back away from what they don’t understand. That’s about them, not you.

It does not speak about you as a human being. We have been conditioned as human beings, as a species, to be accepted and wanted despite the personal cost. Social media is all about presenting something that the average person considers useful in some way. It does not mean that what you witness is how someone is truly feeling. The conditioning that is implied is that without millions of followers, gets labeled as unworthiness. So, we put on a happy face and try to stay in some form of societal compliance as “normal” which doesn’t have a definitive definition. But do you know what the term “normal” actually is? It’s a setting on a washing machine. The term “normal” is actually a subjective term that doesn’t have a concrete definition. It’s nothing more than someone’s interpretation and social constructs of mainstream behavior. 

When we tell people we are ok when we really aren’t, is a “hail Mary” attempt at acceptance. But when we do that, we deny our true feelings and experiences. A big turn off when dealing with people is how they tell me how I should or shouldn’t feel about a situation. What this does is minimize the person’s feelings. It’s not up to you to tell them that their feelings are “ridiculous.”  However, the damage has been done. You just sent an unspoken message to the individual who asked the question, that they are not worthy of your time. And it’s incredibly hurtful. And since they aren’t a therapist trained on how to respond appropriately and therapeutically, the damage that is potentially caused can be catastrophic. So, instead of a positive act of vulnerability, the vulnerability is now covered in shame. We can develop a fear of vulnerability based on that one experience. And we also tend to prematurely judge every person and conversation thereafter in the same light.

I can’t tell you how many times I have been told that my fears and phobias are preposterous. But the situation that caused the fear was in fact very real. And its people, who have never gone through the same precipitating factors nor situation, who seem to have all the “correct” answers. I have been told some of those very things when it took everything I had to just be vulnerable enough to tell someone what happened. It has created so many therapeutic  “pitfalls” because of the fear and shame that I was left with from the very beginning of my trauma history. So many times, I could’ve gotten help sooner, but I suffered in silence because of how unworthy I felt trying to tell the wrong person that I needed help. And sadly, there are many people who die by their own hand. Shame was the killer.

Sometimes all you need to do is just hold a “non-judgmental” space for someone to talk. You don’t have to, nor do you need to have the answers. You are NOT a therapist. You are a “sounding board” at best. However, “non-judgmental” space is usually not common unless you’re sharing space with a competent therapist who understands the powerful and most sought-after form of safety that deserves the utmost respect.

The most supportive thing you can say to someone who approaches you needing that “sacred space,”  is, “I might not know how to help you, but your feelings are valid and I will listen supportively until we can find a mental health professional to help you.” That simple statement can change the course of someone’s life. You don’t have to be smart. You just have to be a HUMAN. Thanks for reading! Keep smiling!

Affirmation: I am a work in progress, and that is okay.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife

It’s Mental Health Awareness Month

“What mental health needs is more sunlight, more candor, and more unashamed conversation.”

-Glenn Close

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Okie dokie! Today is the first day of the month of May, which is also Mental Health Awareness Month. And unfortunately, the topic of mental health is often skirted or disregarded as something that isn’t acknowledged because of the “shame factor.” However, it is not a topic to be ashamed about. Mental health is such an integral part of being human and is something that must be discussed.

What are the issues surrounding the topic of mental health? Well, part of the problem involves societal stigmas, fear of judgment, and a lack of understanding. And the stigma usually surrounds negative stereotypes, incorrect information and cultural beliefs or a sign of personal failure. Give me a second to go a little more in depth about these issues.

1. Lack of Understanding-most people have little knowledge about mental health conditions which can lead to misconceptions and fear. And this includes immediate family, friends, co-workers, medical personnel and acquaintances. I have tried in my own ways to educate people about mental illness, as my daily living has revolved around the mental health system for the majority of my life. But no matter how much you try to explain things to people, they just can’t seem to let go of old ideas and opinions.

2. Negative stereotypes-Thanks to social media, mental illness is portrait in the media that mental illness is considered a sign of weakness, dangerous or violent. This further solidifies negative attitudes. While some of this is true regarding violent individuals, the majority of us are not dangerous people. And religious affiliation can also be another source of negative stereotypes. You wouldn’t believe some of the nasty and fearful looks that I get from simply wearing a baseball cap about PTSD. Sometimes I get asked, “What branch of the military were you in?” I simply tell them, “I didn’t serve our country. I developed PTSD because I’ve been abused for a large majority of my life. So, technically, I’ve been fighting a war my entire life.” They usually silently turn around and back away. Some have asked, “Why do you tell people?” And my answer is always, “Because I’m not ashamed of having a mental illness. It is what it is. And I’m not responsible for other’s ignorance. I simply state the true facts and give the shame back to where it belongs. 

3. Fear of judgment-many people fear judgment for their mental illness. One thing you have to understand is that people are usually their own worst critic. So, your judgment will never be as potent and the person with the mental illness. In my case, telling someone that I have Multiple Personality Disorder makes people retract, mainly because their only source of reference is through Hollywood. And we all know that Hollywood never really tells a story accurately. It induces the “fear factor” in most people. And when I speak this truth, most people are also taken aback because I’m so forth coming with my own  struggles. You might notice my quirkiness at times. However, you would never know when my other parts switch out unless you are around me and I explain who they are and their function. I don’t fear judgment from people. I embrace their ignorance and do my best to “stomp out stupidity.”

4. Fear of discrimination-people fear losing jobs, housing or other opportunities due to their condition. Look, I have lived under a cloud of discrimination since the day I was born. I’m gay. I have a mental illness. And I love to smoke weed. But I’m also very educated. And somehow when you are “out and proud” that automatically puts a label on you. And well, that’s their problem not mine. Even within my own family, I face discrimination. And when I speak about mental health topics, I’m revered as not being nearly as intelligent as others. Even though I have a master’s degree in counseling psychology which qualifies me to be able to diagnose. Make no mistake, I might’ve done a lot of stupid things in my life, but I am in no way dumb. And I face discrimination head on. 

I completely understand that everyone isn’t at the same level of progress with these issues. And it has taken years of therapy to bring me to the point where I am. Mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of. And most people have mental illness in varying degrees. However, a lot of it has never been diagnosed. Individuals hide and suffer in silence because of the shame that they carry regarding this topic. And you absolutely shouldn’t be. Mental health is just as important and maybe more so than physical health. Because poor mental health can also cause physical discomfort.

Embrace what is and be responsible enough to get in therapy. You will be glad you did. Cannabis has increased my quality of life much better than pharmaceuticals. And this is another topic that is shame based. There are those still who are “closeted” cannabis users who also reap the benefits of the plant. And as someone who lived in a closet for many years, I can tell you that no one is meant to be smothered and silenced. Everyone deals with mental illness and fears the repercussion of others differently and at their own pace. I can’t speak for anyone else, but with me, you will always be accepted. 

Educate yourself about your own mental illness not based on movies, other people’s subjective opinions, but on the scientific research and real truth. Face your fears and get involved in therapy and do the challenging work that will benefit you overall. And let the opinions of others roll off your back like water on a duck. Their opinions are just that. They are not facts. It is purely unadulterated ignorance. But that can change if they are willing to do so.

If you are an ally on the topic of mental illness but still have questions, we won’t cook you or eat you. Respectfully ask for some clarification. It is a horrible feeling to suffer in silence over half truths and out right lies regarding mental illness. And sadly, I have had friends who refused to go to therapy for those reasons. And they are now dead from suicide. But everyone is entitled to love, care and compassion. And, yes, that also includes you. Thanks for reading! Stay healthy. Stay happy. Keep smiling. And keep reading this blog.

Affirmation: I trust myself  to make decisions that align with my values and goals.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife

I Love This Plant!

“I find it quite ironic that the most dangerous thing about weed is getting caught with it.”

-Bill Murray

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go aways. Okie dokie! Today marks my second favorite time of the year. Yep it’s the month of 420! Not everyone agrees with it. For me though, it has saved my life. To the naysayers, there is absolutely nothing you can tell me negatively that I’ll believe about the plant called cannabis.

Cannabis has been around for forever and ever amen with a lot of negative connotations. My own family still takes issue with the fact that federally it’s still considered illegal. And you can’t really have a conversation about it because some of them are not willing to discuss the science. In a lot of ways vilifying this plant because of the Nancy Reagan 80’s seems to have stuck. I have family members that are earthy, crunchy thinkers in regard to health. And their lives all about healing with fruits, vegetables and herbs. But so am I. I like fruits, vegetables and herbs too. I just smoke my herbs. The side effects are very simple: sleepy, happy and hungry. “Big Pharma” on the other hand are constantly being sued for all of the harmful side effects. No thank you to medications that cause more harm than good. And drinking and driving home is the much safer option?

Over the years cannabis has gotten a horrible name. It’s not because it’s a dangerous drug. In fact, cannabis is one of the healthiest plants available. Our country has now made it a priority to invest money into science and discovering the healing properties. And there are scientific studies proving that cannabis isn’t as bad as once thought.

Unlike alcohol and other harmful drugs, cannabis continues to provide people with life saving medicine as it has for me. It’s healing cannabinoids help with chronic pain, epilepsy, anxiety, multiple sclerosis, PTSD, alzheimer’s disease, chemotherapy induced nausea and vomiting, insomnia, cancer, fighting cancer, inflammatory bowel disease, tourette syndrome, crohn’s disease, depression, HIV/AIDS, muscle spasms, anorexia, amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, addiction, inflammation,parkinson’s disease, PTSD, reducing blood pressure, anxiety disorders, stabilizing blood sugar, decreasing overdose rates, opioid dependence, spinal cord injuries, dystonia, dementia, glaucoma, schizophrenia and other medical and psychological problems (ncbi.nlm.nih.gov, 2017).

The days of believing that cannabis is a drug that causes great bodily harm are over. Hallelujah! Now let me point out one thing. Cannabis isn’t for everyone just like certain pharmaceuticals aren’t. And I agree that some people might have some type of addiction issues. However, there is no physical withdrawal that occurs. It is impossible to overdose on cannabis. You might take or use too much, causing intoxication. But that’s not the plant’s fault. If you have a problem with addiction to this, it is a “you” problem not the substance. 

I can only speak for myself as one who has a lengthy history of addiction, I have never had a problem with marijuana. The problems have always come back to myself and the maladaptive ways of coping. Buying marijuana off the streets where most of it has come from cartels, it can be sprayed with poisons which increase the effects and dependency. And this is also where a lot of the paranoia stems from. Yes, there are people who complain about paranoia induced by cannabis that is bought from very safe dispensaries. These cases are very minimal on a broad scale. So, marijuana might not fit you as an individual. However,for people like me who continue to reap the benefits of this plant minus the addiction, I can say that it has truly saved my life. And as a result has lowered the amount of suicidal ideations that used to plague me on a daily basis. 

The effects of PTSD continue to complicate my life. The overwhelming symptoms are not near what they once were. Cannabis does NOT cure PTSD. It simply helps with the unfriendly symptoms and side effects. I have gone from being on close to fifteen psychiatric “big pharma” medications down to zero. I didn’t see the point of taking Parkinson’s medication for a side effect of the anti-depressant. Not to mention that I wasn’t able to experience emotions in a way to gauge how I was healing. And everything from the waist down was literally dead. If that’s the price you pay for happiness, then I would rather be sad. I still struggle hard sometimes. And that is where working with coach is other beneficial piece to my treatment. If it is not a substance that doesn’t work for you then move on. But don’t demonize this medication for those of us that it helps to ensure survivability. Thanks for reading! Keep moving forward.

“It is irresponsible not to provide the best care we can as a medical community, care that could involve marijuana. We have been terribly and systematically misled for nearly 70 years in the United States, and I apologize for my own role in that.”

-Dr Sanjay Gupta, Neurosurgeon

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife

What Is My Purpose?

“Nothing is more creative…nor destructive…than a brilliant mind with a purpose.”

-Dan Brown

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Okie dokie! Wow. I had no idea that I would write about this topic today. And it’s a concept that has haunted me for many years. What is my purpose in life? 

Is my purpose to see how many punches I can take and still walk out of the fire alive? Ok. I’ve done that and continued to do that on a daily basis. Is it to conform to societal standards of what “normal” is? That will never be me. Is it to tackle difficult subjects that make people cringe? You’re getting warmer. Well, let me see if I can discern the information that I know without a doubt. 

1. I love helping people. Helping people is a burden on your soul. You don’t decide to help people because of a dollar sign. Helping people whether on an ambulance or in an addiction facility has always been my niche. My actions are done because of a calling that I was born to do. If anyone needs help and I can provide it, I will. That is one of the things that my family dynamics impressed upon me.

2.  Helping and caring for animals. You also don’t just decide to have compassion for animals. Some people say these things and yet I watch them beat their animals without constraint. My ex-husband has always said that he was an animal lover. That is the farthest thing from the truth. I’ll never forget the screams of my animals when he would take a belt, in the middle of the night, and go beat them. And I was completely powerless to defend them. When I left that horribly abusive situation, my animals were killed. My animals and the other animals that I interact with are my kids. I learned a long time ago, that I could trust animals when I couldn’t humans.

3.  Speaking up about difficult topics. I have no problem talking about really difficult topics in society. Sometimes it doesn’t make me the most popular person. And I don’t care. The topics of racism, mental illness, addiction, abuse, medical cannabis, suicide, self-harm, sexual abuse, puberty, predators, LGBTQ+ equality, rape, parenting or any other topic that makes us cringe. What you don’t see is how sometimes I struggle discussing them. Part of that is because of how I was raised. In the deep south, we are taught to not create any waves as it might reflect poorly on the family. And to know our places as children which was to always respect your elders without question. But what if you are a bystander to something that is abusive, and you don’t speak up? That’s what keeps me up at night. The personal information that I blog about that has happened or is currently happening in my life isn’t always pretty. And I realize that I’m not the savior who can swoop in and rescue people. I can, however, do my part as a human being. And, yes, I still worry about things that I cannot control and still become obsessions.

4. Writing is a passion. I began writing out of necessity. When I left my abusive therapist, I felt completely broken. The person I went to for help betrayed me in a way that continues to affect me. And unless you have been abused, you have no idea the hurdles that would have to be overcome to continue moving forward. And the complete disconnect between your emotions and your brain So, I began writing about topics that were affecting me in that moment. And suddenly, I began to get relief even if I hadn’t found the answers that I needed. I finally felt like I had a voice that deserved to be heard. I was tired of remaining quite as I had been expected to do my whole life. That’s when I realized that I wasn’t all those names that I had been called. I was someone who had information and experiences to share in order to help others. I have always felt alone no matter how many people I was around or despite the number of smiles that I put on my face. Blogging itself is a platform to help others in similar situations understand that they are not alone. Had someone just explained to me that my situations were not ok and that millions of people, worldwide, suffer in silence as I have, maybe that sense of loneliness would’ve diminished. However, when it’s happening to you especially all of the manipulation and brainwashing that occurs, you cannot see past the moment. Abuse leaves you questioning everything about the next person and even those in my family. I knew one thing for sure, I could not remain quiet. 

5. Humor brings me enjoyment. Humor has always been one of my greatest coping skills. I go through life as a literal thinker. So, if someone has a “Freudian slip” I will laugh myself silly even if that slip up was from myself. Humor a lot of times was used against me to make me a public spectacle. And it was done in a very demeaning way. As a way of life, I learned how to beat someone to the punch on a smartass comment. I always try to see the humor in most situations. And when there is no humor, I will find a way to interject some of my own. This gets me in trouble sometimes because that’s not conforming to those around me. And I’m expected to just let crazy happenings go without acknowledgment. That’s like putting a plastic bag over my head and being expected to breathe when the air is gone. I will always point out the sometimes-ridiculous way a situation looks. And I’ll probably write a note about it in my phone to use at a later date. I’m not right or wrong. It’s just how I operate.

My passion and purpose is to help others understand that just because you have taken the broken road in life doesn’t mean that you still can’t achieve happiness and also help others. I write about a lot of maladaptive behaviors that I continue to struggle with. But I also share my experience, strength and hope with those need that need the validation that they are not inherently bad or unworthy of happiness, love and inclusion. I still struggle with that concept. If you are a human being, you will fail. You will fall. You will be forced to confront your demons head-on. And it will scare the literal shit out of you. You will be forced to look at your part in situations. If you do not, you will remain stuck. You except your responsibility and move on whether or not the others do the same. You are responsible for only your feelings and emotions that are constantly changing. If they don’t except their responsibility, then they will shift the blame back to you. Push that shit out of the way. Hold your head high. And leave those people like a boss. You are worthy. You are loved. And you are enough!

“Be a lamp, or a lifeboat, or a ladder. Help someone’s soul heal. Walk out of your house like a shepherd.”

-Rumi

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife

Did He Say Puberty?

“Other than dying, I think puberty is about as rough as it gets.”

-Rick Springfield

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Okie dokie! Today, I want to talk about that horrible stage in life called PUBERTY! I know, I know. I feel like I just got acid dumped on me for saying that name. These days I have found the evil older sister called menopause. 

I personally don’t know how I got through puberty. I started understanding the confusion of being gay. The hormonal changes made me psycho. I began learning about relationships and how they change. I remember thinking that I took everything so personally. Horrible trauma was a constant. I became an addict in so many different ways. I was also incredibly impulsive. I don’t ever remember considering the consequences about anything. It was all about if “they” said no, DO IT! Little did I know, I would get permanently stuck in that developmental age. My body might’ve gotten older but I have not really aged emotionally. Trauma manages to stunt your emotional growth. And I was going through more than my fair share while my brain was still developing.

I was never taught boundaries growing up. I didn’t have any personal boundaries and perpetrators are boundaryless by nature. It was the perfect set up for things to go horribly wrong and they did. Our class went through so much trauma within about five years that we had to grow up incredibly fast. By the time I was a senior, I was emotionally searching for something that could provide me with some kind of hope. And that’s when my ex-husband made his predatory move. Many of us have become addicts in different ways. And sadly, many of my classmates have attempted suicide, completed suicide, died from drug overdoses or have gone to prison. It was so tumultuous, in fact, that I totally retract at the mention of the word.

As I have watched my oldest son, Marshall, go head first into that time period, I would be lying if I didn’t say how scared I am for him. The world is so much more violent. Bullying is much worse. Suicides and murders are out of control. School shootings are happening all over the country. Predators show even less restraint. Depending on where you live in the United States being free to express your sexuality can also be very traumatic. Pressure about having perfect grades and being accepted into top college programs has stolen the happiness of a child’s developmental process. And then there’s fentanyl that tops it all. I hate to sound like an old fart by saying that the world was just different then but it was. 

I think now there’s more emphasis on developmental mental health which is always a positive. Cell Phones have been able to record evidence of some of these covert things especially with abusive teachers. And finally these kids have the proof that administrators can’t blow off. But the shame and rejection by families and society doesn’t make life any easier. Perpetrators whether they be peers or adults still operate in the same way. Threats and intimidation is what keeps kids silent and in constant fear. And you put all of that onto a teen and they just can’t handle it. I have overheard people talking about suicide and the person said, “Sometimes life is just too damn hard for these kids.” I know my kids well and I pay attention to everything that I can while co-parenting with their other mom and her partner. We all have a very open type of relationship. However, it scares the absolute shit out of me, because most people thought that I was perfectly fine. And I was the farthest thing from that.

You can follow all the latest research and suggested ways of raising a child but they can still carry with them their own darkness even in plain sight. I would hope that my boys would come to me for anything. But the truth is, that may or may not happen and the consequences can be devastating. And if that’s not resolved in a healthy way then they carry that emotional weight into adulthood. It will be interesting 20 years from now to see the problems that these kids have as adults. Because the struggles that kids are facing now will resurface in some way.

I have laughed many times at the funny sides of puberty by watching my kids. Especially when little brother,Copeland, and his frustrations with Marshall. Sometimes it’s just plain hilarious. At 10 years old, he asks his own questions about puberty. I try to be mature about some of it but it’s a futile effort. Sometimes I laugh so hard that I can hardly breathe. Copeland loves to call his brother out anytime he gets the chance. Not to mention the fact that bathing is an evil necessity and seems to be the main thing that gets in the way of their happiness at this moment. Here is an example of a conversation that I witnessed one day:

Me:  “What’s that smell?”

Copeland: “Probably my brother.”

Marshall:  “Why did you say that?” 

Copeland: “Because it’s true! Momma Mel said that you stink and it’s a sign of puberty. Even if you don’t have hair on your balls yet.”

I made a quick stop to the bathroom because my bladder can’t handle as much laughter as it once did. Whew…I met it half way.  I had to laugh into a towel. 

I asked them:

Copeland: “Puberty and why he stinks.” 

Me: “What are y’all talking about?”

(I start giggling) 

I cannot seem to be mature about certain topics. And this was a stunning example.

Copeland: “Momma Mel says that you get hair everywhere.”

Me: “Yep one day you’ll have hairy tits, pits and a ball-fro on your cherries.” 

(We all laughed.)

Me: Now who wants the shower first? Nuts and butts!!! Let’s go!!!

At this time in my life, I do my best to still laugh at their innocence. We take one day and one argument at a time. I correct them when I need to . But I also let them have the freedom to say what they feel that they need to say within reason.  And I help them the best I can to deal with feelings. I also let them know that feelings are just feelings and they don’t last forever. So that when they’re almost fifty years old they don’t have to suffer with not ever knowing that the concept ever existed. So, maybe, just maybe, they can begin to understand that emotions aren’t terminal. And that all the power that they need is found from within themselves instead of in all the temptations on the outside that lead to even bigger problems.. And they won’t be forever stuck in an insufferable and totally self-obsessed hell.

“Raising teens is like nailing jello to a tree.”

-Unknown

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife

The Burglar That Wasn’t

“To make mistakes is human; to stumble is commonplace. To be able to laugh at yourself is maturity.”

-William Arthur Ward

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy goes away. Okie dokie! Today I want to tell you about one of my follies. I began many years ago working for a local veterinarian. Ok, it was a long time ago. I wasn’t surprised because my love and very strong connection with animals just led me in that direction. Then the opportunity presented itself so that I could house sit people’s pets while they were away. I have taken care of dogs, cats, frogs, pigs and others that at one time or another had their own follies. This was one of those times.

I was housesitting a little, old poodle named Abby. This old girl is spicy in her own way. She is so sassy, in fact, that when her owners are gone she DEMANDS that I give her multiple treats every time I go see her. While I enjoy spending time with her, we have our own schedule for how we do things. I go to her house and open the door and start looking for her. Being an aged girl, sometimes she doesn’t hear me walk in. I frantically begin looking for her when I don’t see her because in my mind I’m looking for a body. She is in great health to be so old. But the thought that nature will act when I least expect it is one of my greatest fears. I couldn’t find her initially. But I soon find her lying in her cozy bed sound asleep. So, I gently start petting her and startled when she awakens with the look of, “How did you get in here without me knowing?” I always act excited to see her so that she knows that everything is ok on my end of the relationship. However, this particular night had much more in store for me than I bargained for.

I take her outside as usual for her night time potty session. Before I lock up for the night I always make sure that she has food and water available in both areas of the house that have been designated in advance. I walk to the back of the house and enter a back bedroom. What I saw horrified me. There is a purse that has been knocked to the ground and everything strewn from within including lipstick. Naturally, I think, “Oh no! Someone has gotten into the house and robbed Jojo and Poppy!” I look around the room and notice that a family picture has been knocked off the wall and I think, “I have watched many hours of true crime shows and know that these signs are because of something personal.” Then I get really scared. I make a mental note and then begin constructing a plan for how I would reach safety. I can’t scream or make any loud noises because if the criminal was still in the house I could get murdered. I know. My past trauma has led to this moment.

I quickly walk back through the house with my eye on the front door. I also pay very close attention when moving past other doorways while keeping an eye out for intruders. I have a feeling that this night could be my last. I finally make it to the front door and out I go. I don’t know why I didn’t think of Abby at this moment. Apparently, though, I must’ve thought everyone for himself. I make it to the middle of the driveway and call my daddy who lives directly across the street. With a shaking voice and body I tell him, “Jojo and Poppy’s house has been robbed.”  I explained what I had seen and he said he would come over and check things himself. When he makes it to where I’m standing I begin telling the story all over again. As you can imagine, I was very animated.

We walked back into the house together. I am thinking, “Now both me and my daddy are going to die!” I followed him while telling him, “Daddy be careful they could still be in here.” We finally made it to the back bedroom and I showed him exactly what I had seen. He began to look things over and we saw a pack of saltine crackers in one of the recliners that had been absolutely demolished. I said, “Crap! The intruder needed a snack!” So, now I’m positive that the criminal is well nourished and ready to kill. He walks over to where a picture in a frame laid face down on the floor. I said to him, “See that’s what I was telling you.” He bent down to pick it up and he said, “Dana, this is a scale for someone to weigh on.” My eyesight has failed me on numerous occasions. And apparently this was another time. He looked through Jojo’s purse and the scene before us and said, “I bet that dog got those crackers out of her purse and then dragged them over to the recliner where she had her little snack.” I called Jojo reluctantly and explained the situation to which she had a good laugh. She said, “Yea, Abby is probably mad that we’ve been gone too long.” It turns out that that was, in fact, what had happened. There was no boogerman that needed a snack that night. Only a sassy little poodle who thought, “My momma and daddy have been gone too long so, I will eat her leftover crackers in her purse while I drag everything else out. And I’ll set up the whole situation so that Dana will think that she is about to get murdered.”

I tell you this comical story to let you know that it’s ok to laugh at yourself. Life happens sometimes in the most comical of ways. Abby is doing fine and is still demanding multiple treats each time I go to check on her. And that little spicy old lady continues to bless my life each and every time our eyes meet.

“If you can laugh at yourself, you are going to be fine. If you allow others to laugh with you, you will be great.”

-Martin Niemoller

#Thispuzzledlife

Bang! They Shot Me!

“It’s all fun and games until someone takes a dart to the eye.”

-Unknown

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. As spring begins to make its mark, I start looking forward to having the cubs come spend some time with me during their spring break. The cold nights are beginning to fade. The hummingbirds start scouting for feeders. And many people take this time to rekindle their relationships with the flowers and gardening.

For many of us winter time leaves us with the attitude of blahhhhhh. It certainly does for me. I enjoy leaving my door open and circulating the fresh cool air. Tink and Coco enjoy both the air and watching the bugs and birds of the season. And the boys enjoy going outside down to the creek and playing with water guns. But what never seems to have a particular season are nerf gun wars. And they show no mercy for their friends and family.

Copeland has a place in my little habitat where he takes his mattress and drags it to the top of wooden shelving about 8 feet off the ground and covered by a curtain where he can enjoy some quiet time away from me and big brother, Marshall. This area has become affectionately known as the “Eagle’s Nest.” He normally has a nerf gun close at hand along with his tablet. Marshall usually has his gaming headphones or talking to online friends. And I’m diamond painting or planning things to do while keeping my ears and eyes open taking it all in.

Everything seems to be going good until Copeland fires a random shot at me from behind the curtain nailing me directly in the eyebrow with a nerf gun bullet. I let out a loud, “Ow!” He laughs hysterically which seems to trigger Marshall’s curiosity. Now they both need and want to be a part of the action. I love my boys dearly. However, at this point, they care nothing about their mom or other bystanders’ need for safety. Those foamed bullets with plastic tips began flying from the barrels of various guns striking me in every area of my body. Nerf Gun War: Game On!

They have gathered every bit of the ammo with the exception of maybe five bullets that are given to me. I have absolutely no protective cover. And they have an entire curtain. And I have been forced to try and pick up the landed bullets while still being shot with perfect aim. They can’t seem to aim clothes perfectly in the clothes basket. Nor can they aim their trash into a garbage can. However, they seem to aim perfectly with nerf guns that can have military snipers shaking in their boots.y

I began to tell myself, “Their childish giggling will make it all worth it.”  Soon, though, my entire body is covered in red dots complimentary of hundreds landing shots on my now painful body. I search frantically for cover. Sometimes it’s a roll of toilet paper, towel, blanket or a garbage can. Anything that I can successfully reach, in the moment, becomes a form of cover. And then…I ran out of ammo. I think to myself, “Why didn’t we use protection?!” 

I call, “Time Out! I’m out of ammo!” They say, “Ok! Cease fire! Momma needs to get bullets!” I gingerly drop my cover and observe my wounds not knowing if I’m really alive. My eyebrows are now swollen. And the only feeling that I can identify is OUCH! I begin to hear whispers  and giggles among the offenders. I look up and Pow! I take another one directly to the middle of my forehead. They break out into total sugar drunken laughter while saying, “We love you, momma!” And I reply, “Stop lying! No you don’t! You just shot me in my nipple!” This makes the entire situation that much funnier to them. I say in my loudest and desperate voice, “I wish you would just eat a large clown turd!” And they continue to laugh hysterically.

As I frantically gather bullets near me and fling them in their general direction, they land a barrage of bullets again, completely crushing my self-confidence in my ability to win as if that was even a remote possibility. I hurriedly run into the middle of the floor gathering more bullets and I take one directly in the butt crack. “Ow!” I painfully scream. 

I take my gathered stash that fills the clip that I now have secured in my half working gun. I see my moment while they are making battle plans to get in a cheap shot like the many that my body now shows its evidence. I fire away only for my bullet to land about five feet from my position. They don’t even seem to notice. I fired several more times with the same ferocity. I still don’t even get close to landing a shot. I shout loudly, “This piece of crap gun with no boom!” And my youngest son Copeland laughs harder. I take my remaining bullets and realize my now harsh reality. I have to throw my bullets. They have sabotaged my ability to win this war.

The mayhem eventually dies down. Copeland and whoever else attempting to kill me climbs down out of the “Eagle’s nest” to come look at my battle wounds. They are still laughing and I have a bruised fingernail, swollen elbows, a pulled hamstring, inflamed eyelashes, diminished hearing in my right ear, a runny nose brought on by a direct shot, a burning belly button, red dots up and down my shins, an itchy armpit and farts that sound like a suffering animal needing euthanasia. These wounds I did not have prior to Camp Frat Pad WWIII. 

These moments while painful I wouldn’t trade for one minute. I am able to relive my childhood vicariously through my children with some Advil and an ice pack. And for them, it’s just another fun time with momma where we are making memories while they enjoy being kids. To them, it’s not about whether or not I’m gay or straight. Or how much money I have or don’t have. I’m just momma. And I can do nothing but smile. Later, I would cuddle with my “non-expanding recreational foam experts.”

“All is fair in love and Nerf war.”

-Unknown

***Don’t forget to watch the video! Copeland chose the song for this blog.***

#Thispuzzledlife

“My Sarah, My Friend”

“Death leaves a heartache no one can heal,love leaves a memory no one can steal.”

-Unknown

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today marks the 10th anniversary since Sarah died. Recently, I have done some work in therapy about her loss.  What I’ve learned is how traumatic events never seem to lose their power. While it’s always been very upsetting to me to live without her. Re-experiencing those moments with the full force of emotions is decapitating my soul. And I truthfully, had no idea that I carried that much emotional exhaustion.  

I have been asked before “why do you refer to her as like a God?” To me Sarah wasn’t just a friend. She was so many things to me. But most of all she was my hero. I sought her guidance as a struggling alcoholic/drug addict. But years later and the respect for a seemingly genuine woman progressed to a relationship where I experienced unconditional love and acceptance for no other reason than because I existed. I just needed someone who cared on all levels. And it was her.

I hungered for the peace that she seemed to carry around in her soul. I watched her from all angles and she was the most authentic person I had ever seen. And I was very intrigued. She was the same no matter where she went. Our very close relationship was like a “maternal mentor.” I wanted to learn everything I possibly could about her “road to peace and serenity.” There was a mutual space that we held for each other with the utmost respect. She was my “safe person.” 

We spent many hours talking about life and the broken roads we had both taken. And I saw how she had risen. And how I was barely breathing. Over the years she became my “Mr. Miyagi” and my “Yoda.” Every Time I was around her I learned another lesson about life. And it was exactly what I needed. And I flourished. I had begun to rebuild my shattered self-confidence, self-worth, self image and the idea that I was entitled to love, happiness and belongingness just like everyone else. 

I continued to struggle with addiction for a while. And Oh the boundaries. Anyone that knew her also knew that she was a boundary setting “queen.” Boundaries were placed before me many, many times. That was just something else that she taught me. 

It wasn’t “rules” coming from an authority figure with her. It was simply teaching me about boundaries and standing up when they are tested. And she also taught me about our own boundaries and why we deserve for them to be respected. I realized that my way of thinking was courtesy of generational patterns of insanity. She praised individuality, autonomy and authenticity.

I began to notice that I was changing.  My thinking, heart, conscience, was all changing for the better.  I needed the stability of someone who was loving and consistent. And I’m sorry but there are just not that many people like that who possess both qualities. And I thanked God everyday for the blessings I received that allowed me to be open enough to experience “love” for the first time since stepping onto the gravel of my broken road.  

I had, once again,  found that passion for life and the ability to succeed which was lost for many years. I began excelling as a student. And I realized that I was not too dumb to learn. And about the symbolism of the Phoenix in Greek Mythology. The symbol of the camel in 12-step recovery. And about living life on life’s terms. And about her walk with Jesus. And how life is about acceptance even if it’s not the hand that you wanted dealt. The woman I speak of I would’ve laid down my life for. And I still will at the speaking of her name.  

And when she died, I’ve been unable to move past my grief.  Instead I burned every bridge that I could. And I found dreams and ambitions in the safe confine of isolation slowly withering away. I guess over the years I never saw having to live life without her or her guidance.  But here we are. And her absence is more than I can bear.

I exist but I no longer live. I keep chasing the monster that keeps chasing me. Again I am the shell of who I used to be. Shouldn’t her memory and advice propel me past that? Shouldn’t living a life that I know would please her give me the energy to help me carry on?  Maybe. But my heart feels none of that. I am paralyzed by fear, grief, loneliness, sadness and debilitating depression. But I do have my memories. I guess sometimes, though, the wounds are just too great. 

“The absence of your loved one will lead to a profound wound of their loss that will never completely mend. But they will forever reside in your heart and will remain partially broken.”

-Unknown

***Don’t forget to watch the video at the end!!!***

#Thispuzzledlife

Dear Anxiety

Dear Anxiety Lyrics

I wake up, puddle of sweat
I have nightmares, and I get back into bed
It’s like these voices just keep playing on repeat in the back of my head
And I can’t get them to leave me alone
Thirty-years old but still hates being alone when I’m home
Because that’s when the voices get the loudest
Opening up like this is a moment far from my proudest
But these demons keep pressin’ me, I swear they’re the foulest
But I’ve grown comfortable with their presence, my conscious is calloused
My dreams are their playground, my thoughts are their palace
I tried to evict them, they returned with more
Anxiety isn’t an item you can return at the store
I was 10 the first time I had a panic attack
Like a punch to the stomach, there’s no planning for that
And I didn’t tell anyone because I was too scared about what they’d say
And I knew deep down that there was nothing they could do to take it away
It was my fight to fight and my battle to face
I remember that house I grew up in and how those demons would rattle that place
I’d lay awake at night just staring at the ceiling
I’ve spent my whole life trying to run from that feeling
That feeling of being lonely, that feeling of being lost
That feeling of being sick when the lights turn off
That feeling of being depressed, that feeling of being anxious
That feeling of screaming to God begging Him to take this
Only to get silence in return
I’d lay in that bed crying, and I’d toss and I’d turn
And I turn and I toss to this day
The doctors gave me medication, the pastor said pray
I tried both, and this anxiety still hasn’t gone away
So forgive me if I fantasize about being gone today
I’m an actor who got really good at being on today
But when I turn off, I go right back into the shadows
I’m in the deep-end now, but I started in the shallows
And I might just drown myself in these waves
Suburbian hell, these homes are all graves
Everyone’s coping with something but won’t admit it, they’re all too afraid
And these kids are glued to watching me, what do I say?
If I’m honest with them, maybe they won’t think highly of me
Everything they want me to be is what I’m dying to be
But everything I really am is what I’m not trying to be
I want them to know that they’re not alone in their struggles
I wake up in tears and fall back asleep in those puddles
And I don’t ever think I’ll get out of this valley I’m in
Terrified that all along God has tallied my sins
And if He has, the number must be astronomic
My life is a joke, and you keep reading, just pass the comic
Because everything you think that I am is far from the truth
I wish I could open up to you and just let loose
But my vocal cords get tight when the Devil pulls on this noose
And then I’m back to keeping everything bottled up inside
But he’s not gonna keep me from pulling the throttle back this time
He’s not gonna keep me trapped like this
I can’t get out of bed, I was never made to act like this
I’m packing up my bags, and he can’t stop me from running fast like this
I’m not gonna be a slave to these voices of anxiety
I’m shoving the Devil back for every time that he lied to me
And I’m taking a belt to these demons who whisper despair in my ear
And I’m ignoring every naysayer who stands and stares when I’m near
I’m moving forward out of this slump
I took my bruises, I took my lumps
I fell down, but I got right back up
So give me a torch, and let’s light that up
I’m setting fire to the Devil, and I’m dousing these demons in gasoline
Look at you now, now you’re not laughing at me
Now who’s the one who’s being tortured and punked?
Now who’s the one closing every door that I want?
Now who’s the one watching the other burn the ground?
Don’t look away from me, you better turn back around
I’m not done talking to you now
I’m watching your moves
I’m on your back, and I’m stalking you, too
And when you try to ruin some other kid’s life, I’ll be stoppin’ you, too
You took thirty years of my life, and I can’t get that back
You told me to end my life, and I nearly got killed for that
You took me down, but I bounced right back
I was lost then, and I got found like that
And everything you told me I wasn’t someone new told me I was
And everything you hated in me someone new told me He loves
And when you tried to kill me with depression and anxiety
He reached in and placed hope deep inside of me
So I’m done listening to you and letting you control me
I’m announcing it now that the Devil can’t hold me
I’m walking away from the old me
And I’m demanding a refund on every lie that you sold me
You knew I’d find a way out sooner or later
And I found my escape in the form of a Savior.

***I’m not there yet but I want to be.***

***Don’t forget to watch the video***

#Thispuzzledlife

The Funny Reasons Kids Cry

“A 3 year-old is basically a walking, talking middle finger.”

-Amy Dillion

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. I needed to switch gears just a bit from the trauma work. So, what is something that’s lighthearted and comical about our lives? The answer…PARENTING. It doesn’t matter if you’re straight, gay, trans, purple, white, black or any other category. If you have children they will all do things like this as they grow.

It is the most complex job that I’ve ever had. There are as many frustrations as there are hysterical moments. We as parents love our children dearly. There are also those times especially toddler meltdowns that can have me in the room over in a corner  while in the fetal position and biting my arm.  A momma hamster would’ve eaten said screaming child.

Due to my trauma, I cannot tolerate the cries of babies and children. Asking them to stop is apparently the equivalent of asking them to stop breathing. Needless to say, I am so thankful that the boys are out of those stages. However, the uncharted waters of puberty are now upon me. They still aren’t always sure what bothers them but they just hiss at everything. And all I can say at this point is that “if God wants to get me back for the way I was as a teenager, it’s going to be a hell of a ride.” Here is a video of some of the funniest kids meltdowns.

Any parent from anywhere in a public setting understands the familiar cries. That  moment when you think to yourself, “Yep, it’s nap time for that kid.” When Marshall was little and Mel and I went to Walmart, we headed straight to the dog beds where we would get a comfy looking one and put it in the cart.  We would give Marshall his bottle and pray for a miracle. It might not have lasted forever but it was so nice.  And then inevitably a loud sound or the screeching of a kid’s tantrum would wake him up.  How many times did I want to go up to a parent and say, “I hope you can’t find your kids binkies  the next time they want one. And when you try to go to the store to get new ones they are all sold out.  And then it’s “No Binkie Night” at your house!” Check out some of these funny pictures of children losing their minds over the simplest things.

Marshall was very young and we were getting ready for church.  On the way to the car he spotted his little swimming pool and made a beeline to it.  I stopped him just shy of soaking his entire outfit and shoes.  You would’ve thought that I had just removed all the air from his life.  We had to go through the five stages of grief and loss. And the crocodile tears made me feel like a horrible parent because I just made the additional liquid in his eyes appear. We all made it through that moment and Marshall just turned 13. And now I’m beginning to see, at 49 years old, that my parents were not crazy when I was younger. I made them that way.

I hope that you could have a few laughs as I have. Enjoy the ride of parenting.  Our little guys are so worth it all. And so are all of you!

“The average toddler expends 6,500 calories per day. Consumes 1.5 bites of food per meal, and grows 3 pajama sizes per night.”

-Unknown

***Don’t forget to watch the video.***

#Thispuzzledlife