Mental Illness

darnold1975

Mommy Dearest Part 2

“This is how betrayal starts…not with big lies, but with small secrets.”

-Shalini Joshi

Now let’s continue…

Lisa did update us on Kathleen’s self-harm issue that had begun to dissipate. And now she was also in therapy. I always asked about how the therapy was going because I hadn’t left my abusive therapist yet. So, I became very protective when it came to that topic. She would always put my fears to rest by telling me that she had a great therapist that really knew how to work with Kathleen. 

Landri would also have a big scare with her heart that left her almost completely bed bound. She had become so weak that she could no longer support her own weight. But eventually she would regain her strength. Slowly but surely, she wasn’t so pale. She was beginning to put on weight, and it looked really good on her. And then she started getting out and walking. They had moved onto the same military base as us. They lived only about 6-7 houses down the street.

We had not been around them in a little while due to our own issues with my mental health. And I had already begun living life in solitude where I would remain for the next few years. One day I had gone out to check the mail when I saw someone walking towards me on the sidewalk. I soon realized that it was Landri. I spoke to her and told her how good she looked and how happy I was for her. We made a very superficial conversation because I was in a very deep depression at the time. The following is the last conversation that she and I would have together. And it continues to haunt me to this day.

 Landri: “Dana, I’m scared of Lisa.”

Me: “What do you mean you’re scared?”

Landri: “I don’t really want to go into our personal problems, but she’s become very aggressive.”

Me: “Wait! Do I need to throw some aggression her way?”

Landri: “No, that would just make it worse. Just remember what I’m telling you.”

Me: “Ok. Promise me that if you need us you will call.”

Landri: “No, it’s nothing like that. She’s just spent all of our money on drugs. And she doesn’t like me questioning her about any of it.”

Me: “Ok. Well, we are here to help if you need us.”

Landri: “Thank you so much for being such good friends.”

She had convinced me enough to pacify my obsessive nature when someone is being dominated. I also understood how telling someone about a perpetrator can make the situation worse. And coming from a domestic violence situation I felt that fear for her. Later that day when Mel got home from work, I told her about the situation. She was likewise just as perplexed as I was. I told her everything from beginning to end about our encounter. She agreed with me to stay out of the situation. And to just be available if necessary. 

A week later, Landri was dead. She apparently died in her sleep. But now that conversation that was stuck on replay was never-ending. I didn’t know what to do as the news completely stunned me. I told her to find out funeral arrangements. I couldn’t let the thought go that, “Lisa just murdered one of our closest friends.” I would battle in my mind thinking, “That’s absurd to think that we would be as close to a situation that was that dangerous and not know something was wrong.” And it has always been rebuttaled with the very conversation that we had asking me not to get involved.

Mel came in from work a few days later and said, “You’re not going to believe what I’m about to tell you.” I said, “Ok well that’s not a good sign.” She very begrudgingly said, “Lisa has already had her cremated.” I scream, “WTF?!” And I began shaking. It was then that I realized that there was a high likelihood that Landri was murdered. It was difficult for me to look Lisa in the face the next time we saw her. Mel asked, “Lisa, what happened?” She begins telling us the story that she had become very weak, very quickly. And how they were laying in their bed together and they both took a nap. But when Lisa woke up, Landri was dead. I told her, “I just saw Landri several days ago and she looked the best I’ve ever seen her.”  Lisa said, “Yea the doctors said that sudden death was a possibility.” I didn’t tell her what Landri herself told me. And without warning Lisa and Kathleen moved away and weren’t answering us in any way.

We had gone to the local library where we were known frequently. Mel tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Look who’s here.” I turned around and I must’ve turned white. We saw Lisa and Kathleen before they saw us. Kathleen wasn’t in a wheelchair. But when we made eye contact, we saw Lisa mumble something to Kathleen. She was just super excited to see us. And then her demeanor turned very solemn.

That situation was many years back now. Mel and the boys moved back to Mississippi. And I moved to Texas to work with “coach” on my PTSD issues. While living out there Mel called me one day and said, “You’ll never guess who I talked to.” Agreeing with her I said, “Probably not. What’s up?” Me said, “I just got off the phone with Kathleen.” I said, “Shut up! What’s going on with her?” Mel told me, “Well, she said that Lisa had made everything up about her military and EMT service. And that neither Kathleen nor Landri had a terminal condition. She was starving them. That’s why Kathleen passed out so much and broke bones. Lisa is now homeless. And Kathleen has moved on with her life complete with therapy.” It took me a few minutes to respond because those horrible gut feelings began flooding every part of me. Several years had gone by since that horrible situation but it still stung with great ferocity. I told Mel, “You know it’s bothered me ever since about that we seemed to know the truth. If it doesn’t seem right, it probably isn’t right.” She said, “Yea, but what proof did we have at the point when we thought that? We couldn’t just go into the police station and talk to a detective only to say, “Well we don’t have evidence, but I do have a gut feeling. They couldn’t exhume the body because it was cremated.” And the words that my ex-husband repeatedly said to me, “Nobody will believe you. You’re the one with the mental problems” kept me silent once again.

Nothing has ever been proven or investigated related to that situation. One of the many things that has continued to plague my mind is the fact that we left our oldest baby in their care so that we could actually go on a much-needed date. They baby sat Marshall many, many times. If something had happened to him, I would’ve killed her without a second thought. Some of my “mommy guilt” about being a parent holds space for the event that taught me that evil is still alive and well in this world. I don’t wish her death. But I do wish her a miserable existence until the end of time. She didn’t care about our child or our family. But what was the saddest was that she didn’t  care about her own family. 

At the same time, I was dealing with another “friend” who was also very manipulative. And I was also being abused by my therapist. After all of this, I lost my damn mind. The first thing I remember writing about this was the poem titled Silent Screams. The only way that I get through another day with the constant barrage of memories about this situation is to give myself grace in the fact that everything was so hidden in a tangled web of lies. She was a manipulator that was even more skilled than my ex-husband. I think that my anger around this is about the fear that I experienced after realizing how much time Marshall had spent in their care. There is a certain amount of grief that comes from losing those relationships. We lost what we thought “was” instead of what it “wasn’t. 

Munchausen by Proxy is actually pretty rare. Unless,of course, it’s happening to you. I recently got interested in the case of Gypsy Rose. She was also at the mercy of her mother who had Munchausen by Proxy. Except that Gypsy Rose murdered her mom and subsequently went to prison. She served her time and is now out of prison. She has talked about all of the unnecessary treatments and procedures that she had to go through for absolutely no reason. And so did Kathleen. 

I don’t advocate murder. However, through the many years of trauma at the hands of some truly evil people, I can’t totally understand the rationale. Lisa was still allowed to live her life. She has nothing but one tooth and her lies that are continuing to be spread onto other unsuspecting victims. The thoughts and feelings that have stayed with me since that day are forever in my mind.” Again, it’s just another traumatic event that has taught me to question everyone’s motives including friends and especially family. I’ve never thought that I should require proof of terminal illness or military service. But maybe I should.

“But the memories that hang heaviest are the easiest to recall. They hold in their creases the ability to change one’s life, organically, forever. Even when you shake them out, they’ve left permanent wrinkles in the fabric of your soul.”

-Julie Gregory

Affirmation: “I am strong and can overcome the influence of manipulative individuals.”

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

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Mommy Dearest

“Munchausen by Proxy may be the single most complex and lethal form of maltreatment known today.”

-Julie Gregory, Sickened: The True Story of a Lost Childhood 

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to talk to you about a serious mental health disorder known as Munchausen Syndrome. I know that this is a topic that a lot of people like to sweep under the rug because it just seems too grotesque and unimaginable to talk about. However, the fact is that the disorder remains alive and well in some individuals. And the signs and symptoms are hidden in plain sight.

Munchausen and Munchausen by Proxy fit under the diagnostic criteria for Factitious Disorder. A Factitious disorder is a conscious and intentional feigning or production of symptoms due to a psychological need to take on the sick role in order to obtain an emotional gain. This is not to be mistaken with Hypochondriasis. Which is an obsession with fears that one has a serious, undiagnosed disease. The symptoms are not created consciously (nih.gov, 2006).

Munchausen Syndrome is still considered to  be the most extreme form of factitious disorder. They intentionally deceive others by pretending to be sick. They fake symptoms or make symptoms seem worse than they actually are. And speaking to them you would think that they are an endless pit of medical knowledge. What they do is produce some medical or psychological problems and study everything they can find on it until they’re comfortably able to construct an ongoing story.

Munchausen by Proxy is where the behavior is imposed onto another person. The biggest factor in keeping their narratives alive is manipulation. And they are exceptionally good at it. My exposure to Munchausen by Proxy has left me with a lot of shame, guilt, regret and suicidal ideations. I have tried to extend myself “grace” about this situation knowing that had I understood the harsh reality sooner, I could’ve done something about it.

When we moved to Albuquerque, NM we found us a lesbian group that became our home for a short while. Mel and I had dreams and aspirations of being parents one day which eventually distanced us from them. But not before we met Lisa, Landri and Kathleen. “Two moms and a child? We’ve totally got to meet them!” I told Mel. It didn’t take us long to realize that we had more in common with this family than realized. Lisa, who was clearly a “top” and the strong family leader, told us that they were from Laurel, MS. Very surprise I said, “Wait What?! You mean to tell us that we just met people from Laurel, MS  that are a lesbian family?” She confirmed again. I thought, “Holy Crap, this is what we’ve been needing. Someone from the south that understands our frustrations.” Our relationship was soon off to the races.

Their daughter was a truly compassionate being who appeared reserved but loved our son, Marshall. And Marshall loved them all. And Kathleen definitely danced to the beat of her own drum. The connection was so close that it appeared that this was a friendship that would last a lifetime. Lisa told us that she was a retired military colonel. She was always dressed in some type of military get-up. And she had also been an EMT and worked on an ambulance. I was happy that I now had someone to exchange “trauma junkie” stories with. She seemed to deal with it better than I was doing and was interested in how she did it. Her partner, Landri, was very frail looking but spicy in her own sense. She quit working due to her chronic health issues regarding cardiac problems. They told us that their daughter, Kathleen, had been diagnosed as a child with a terminal heart condition. And that she likely would not make it to adulthood. They warned that there were very frequent hospital visits sometimes close to being fatal. But we loved all of them and they loved us.

 We were prepared to love and accept them right where they presented themselves. We never knew that we needed to have someone prove their medical conditions or a traumatic past. We were on the “therapy” side of life which fit comfortably with our level of empathy. And for the first time while living in Albuquerque there were people who understood what it was like to grow up and come out in the south.

Since we lived on a guarded military base, when she would come through the gate dressed in some type of military attire she accepted the salutes as a proud retired colonel. We planned to celebrate the next Thanksgiving together in grand southern style. Mel and I spent several hours in the kitchen cooking our favorite southern dishes. The finished product was a full spread that would make our ancestors smile. But right before they came over Lisa called to ask us if we could make Kathleen some macaroni and cheese because she didn’t eat regular Thanksgiving foods. We both thought that was strange. But we didn’t question anything due to possible nutritional needs. 

When they arrived, Kathleen came running into our house. She grabbed the freezer door and swung it open while asking, “What have you got to eat?” I looked at Mel like, “Are you watching this?” Shocked and completely bewildered I very clearly remember thinking, “For someone who was raised in the south, that behavior was considered very disrespectful.” We gave the cooked macaroni to her after she also went to the pantry looking for something to eat. Her behavior was startling. She grabbed the macaroni and went and ate like she hadn’t eaten before. Mel and I spoke about it later and we felt half angry and half in utter disbelief. But I also noticed that Lisa was trying to ignore the “elephant in the room.” Almost as though the behavior was unexpected. That evening went on without any other noticeable issues.

Being a preemie, Mashall had  different nutritional needs than a normal baby. He drank pediasure to supplement his much-needed calories. Lisa stated that Landi was supposed to be on supplemental drinks like that for adults, but they couldn’t afford it. We gave them a few drinks which they greatly appreciated. But soon they wanted the majority of what we were receiving for Marshall through the CHIPS program. So, we had to put a stop to that. Again, the whole situation wasn’t sitting right with us. However, there were no alarm bells just a “that’s odd” moment.

Kathleen was  admitted many times to the hospital for injuries that were sustained by passing out. She would literally break bones when she fell. Lisa always explained that it was due to her congenital heart problem. And honestly, we have been close friends for a while now while these medical issues continued. We were also told that they were in a support group for kids and families with the same diagnosis. And they would tell us when Kathleen’s friends from the group passed away. 

She was given all kinds of recognition and special treatment because different organizations were aware that she would not be living the fullest life that everyone else would. We were even invited to go to the state fair free as guests of Kathleen’s. We also attended a rodeo there complete with a special meet and greet with members of a band that was to be singing that night. She always traveled by wheelchair or golf cart because of how weak she could become.

Lisa came to us one day to tell us that Kathleen was self-harming. And they knew that we had some basic knowledge about what causes the behavior. I asked Lisa,” Is she being abused by anyone that you know of?” Lisa of course answered, “No.” But she did tell us that she had suffered a breakup and that because she was getting older, she also began to fear dying. And she would also tell us that prior to moving to New Mexico that Kathleen’s biological father passed away from terminal cancer. We agreed that due to the extreme situation that was occurring in their family that this behavior was possible. We advised her to seek out a therapist before it got out of control and caused severe scarring or possibly escalating to suicide. No matter what we tried to do to help our friends, we always felt helpless.

Landri still seemed to become progressively worse. And soon we were told that Landri would also have heart failure. I remember Mel and I were thinking how horrible it was for a family to go through all of that at one time. And how helpless we felt, not being able to do anything. What we did know was how to be friends with someone and support them emotionally the best that we could.

They supposedly decided as a family to go to California to get married legally. At the time New Mexico was considered a neutral state regarding marriage equality. That meant that you could not legally have a same sex marriage performed in the state. However, they would honor marriages from other states. Lisa told us that, “Kathleen wanted that wish to come true.” I thought, “well maybe that’s what they all needed.” However, there was a very dark and sinister part of that family that would not become known for several more months. It began in the shadows so it won’t survive in the light. This story has one more part. Keep reading!

“Munchausen By Proxy is a desire to have attention and pity at the same time. So maybe all narcissists have Munchausen By Proxy.”

-Unknown

Affirmation: “I am resilient, and I can overcome challenges.”

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

#Thispuzzledlife

 

darnold1975

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

darnold1975

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

darnold1975

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

darnold1975

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

darnold1975

I’m Only Human

“I am just a human being trying to make it in a world that is rapidly losing its understanding of being human.”

-John Trudell

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Okie dokie! I want to clarify one thing before I get into the topic for today.  This blog is more like an online journal of sorts. I write about things that affect me at this moment. Many topics repeat and that’s perfectly ok. Each thing I write about is in some way me moving forward even if at a snail’s pace. Trauma is not one of those things that you can talk about today and it will be gone tomorrow. Those who have never been in therapy or are from a generation where therapy was not an option don’t get this concept. And truthfully neither did I. Heck, even though I grew up in the 1980’s therapy was only for the lifestyle of the rich and famous. Nevertheless, the trauma still left its mark.

All of this has been a process that doesn’t have a set time limit. And to think that I can process some of these gut wrenching problems on Monday and then on Tuesday be able to say and believe that the hurt and pain won’t resurface is only a pipe dream that leads to disappointment. You have to have a therapist who is compassionate and patient to say the least. And with my coach that is exactly what I got.  And the time it takes to find a therapist that is a good fit sometimes involves more trauma.  And it certainly did for me. It took me over forty years to become dysfunctional to this extreme. So, to think that all of that can be wiped out with even a few years of intense therapy is very unrealistic.

 Today I want to talk about imperfection. The holidays are so incredibly stressful for me as with most people. I think it’s just all of the emotions of being around more people than I’m used to.  And when the Frat Pad is in full swing with our crew it can be exhausting.  Don’t get me wrong, I love hanging with my boys and friends. However, after all of the holidays are said and done I am completely exhausted.  Maybe it’s because when we are all together we are all on such an emotional high that when it’s all over with my mind and body say, “Dana, What the hell were you thinking?  You don’t have to do everything to extremes!” For the last several weeks I just can’t seem to get my energy back.  I can’t sleep. I have been in a horrible depression.

As a child we don’t really think about the concept of “imperfection.” We go through our little child life learning from our mistakes on a daily basis. And that’s the way it should be. As we grow, socially, emotionally and physically everything begins to change. We begin to form our own view of the world and expectations that we have for ourselves. Maybe it’s just a combination of societal, personal, environmental, and familiar experiences that begin to teach us that ‘perfection” is the only way to be.  Not all are affected in a negative way. 

My life was affected negatively because of my experiences. When you are very impressionable at a young age simultaneously, your brain is still underdeveloped. You begin to see life for what it is either negatively or positively. If you are exposed like I was to narcissists who only told me that no matter what I did, I would never be good enough, my life began to play out just like that. I learned very quickly that not being perfect meant that my life was not as worthy as others.  Little by little this core belief that I was inherently unworthy of good things continued to chip away at me until waking up every day became a punishment rather than a gift. And since  the age of 13, I have been chronically suicidal. I still completely disregard dangerous and impulsive behaviors that are very detrimental at the very least.

When I was married to my ex-husband he took my whole feeling of inadequacy and belief that I wasn’t worthy of love, acceptance and compassion to an all time high. Instead of taking the information that I told him about my life to show me everything that I had been missing, he used it as a weapon to have ultimate control over me. Not to mention that he was also nineteen years my senior. I was so naive that I held onto his every word as truth. The “truth” however was that he was and still is a very sick man who was also horribly abused by his father. And to my knowledge was NEVER told that he was loved by him. So, if he wasn’t in control including his perfectionistic ways then he felt completely out of control. And he perpetuated that abuse onto me.

One of his favorite things to tell me was, “I’m not the one with the mental history.” And the fact of the matter is this, he has never gone to see a therapist for any of his issues. His mental illness has just never been diagnosed. It doesn’t not mean that he doesn’t have a mental illness. Therapy also requires a level of rigorous honesty about yourself that he is incapable of being. I will be the first to tell you that therapy isn’t always fun. However, it is necessary regardless how far down the spectrum you may go. When I needed therapy in my teens therapy was not possible.  So, even though I began seeing a therapist in 2009 my work didn’t truly begin until about 8 years ago. At the time, I was undiagnosed with a very serious trauma related disorder that not just every professional knows how to treat.  It goes way beyond basic depression and anxiety issues. The problem was so much more complex than I had any concept to be able to understand at that time. And let me just point out that any level of depression and anxiety are in their own way completely miserable.

I had a therapist long ago tell me when I was in despair about always making mistakes tell me, “Welcome to the human race.” And I never understood what that meant until years later. I still make a lot of mistakes as a human being. I take as much as I can and I fall.  I still get angry and say hurtful things.  And I also still go to bed many nights with tears in my eyes. I’m now learning how to embrace my whole self mistakes and all. And I’m trying not to  let the opinions of those who bled out on me for crimes I didn’t commit determine my self worth. My  imperfection is what classifies me as being “PERFECTLY IMPERFECT.”

“I don’t have to be perfect. All I have to do is show up  and enjoy the messy, imperfect and beautiful journey of my life.”

-Kerry Washington

***Don’t forget to watch the video***

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

When Life Breaks You (Poetry)

When life breaks you, it is because you are ready to be put back together differently. 

Every piece of you that feels shattered is a piece that will find a new place, a new purpose, a new meaning. 

Trust that the cracks are where the light gets in. And sometimes, in our brokenness, we find our greatest wholeness. 

We find the courage to rebuild, to reimagine, to redefine what it means to be strong.

You are not broken; you are breaking through.”

-Unknown author

#Thispuzzledlife

#Thispuzzledlife

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

darnold1975

When I Am Cut (Poetry)

Looking at me with that sharp and metal stare.

It smiles at me as if I was not there.

I know it sounds crazy but I’m not thinking about an end.

The one in the darkness that comforts me like a friend.

It came to my rescue when I was just a kid.

In that dungeon of a closet where she thought she had me hid.

The first time I did it , it brought me so much peace.

The act was automatic and I got a much needed release.

If you could see past my scars, I’m just another person.

You don’t know the hell I’ve experienced, its made me who I wasn’t.

He called me names and broke my spirit and said, “it is all my fault.”

But what he didn’t know, was that I was planning my next assault.

The towels and the bandages are always part of the game.

But when you look into my eyes, I’m just another name.

My story means nothing to most as they think it’s all a lie.

But I spent another 14 years just trying not to die.

The memories are so extreme but you don’t even care.

That’s ok I don’t need you because my blades are always there.

They comfort me in the morning and tuck me in at night.

Because it comforts me and brings me peace in this debilitating life.

Long sleeves in the winter and in summer too.

I don’t want you to see them because it’s the evidence of my truth.

You don’t understand it and I hope you never do.

This isn’t attention seeking behavior what if it was you?

#Thispuzzledlife

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

darnold1975

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