Healing Awaits

Do you ever have down days? I think we all do. Some of us own them, some don't. Some push through to the other side. Some stuff their feelings only to have them come out sideways. Sometimes we can nudge the feelings aside by counting blessings. Because, true story, we always have blessings to count. 

However, life is hard, we have days that just weigh heavier. Days our losses feel especially tender. Days that feel like the sun just won't shine. 

It takes me back to when I was struggling and began taking anti-depressants. My first marriage was falling apart. I was numb. I felt like my smile wasn't getting to my eyes anymore. It was time to get help. I went round and round with a sibling who maintained that periods of depression are a fact of life, and you just deal with it. Wallow in the pain long enough, and eventually it would go away. It still sounds like a miserable experience to me. Life is hard enough, why deny the help that is available? 

Now I know, asking for help and accepting it is humbling. Owning it exposes our soft belly, so to speak. We want to maintain appearances. That we have it "all" together. Does anyone, really?? We want to be strong and independent. Strong can be a defense mechanism and independent can be isolating. Strong is exhausting, and frankly, no one who is strong really had any other option. 

So, when the road is rough, take stock of your surroundings. Check and see what you're feeling. Own the hard stuff. Accept the help that is available. Let someone know how you're doing, the weight you are holding.  Remember that every storm runs out of rain. Thank you, Maya Angelo, for this wisdom. Count some blessings, feel the feelings, release them. Healing awaits.

Alone, Not Alone

Living alone. It's not for sissies. It is where life has led me, and what I'm accepting. Face it, we all sometimes yearn for what others have. Those with curly hair, want straight hair. Short people long to be tall. Curvy people yearn to be thin. Single people envy couples. Couples may envy singles. You get my drift. Life is complicated. We may want what others have, even in the midst of gratitude for what we have.

I'll be the first to admit I never saw myself living alone. Granted I don't live alone, alone. I do have dogs, or rather, they have me. I'm pretty sure being alone has always been a great fear of mine. And yet, here I am. Ironically, I've been alone even when in relationships. So alone is relative. Funny how life works out that way.

There was a time when I searched out new relationships so I wouldn't be alone. I didn't trust that I was exactly where I needed to be. Not that those choices didn't hold exactly the lessons I needed. Boy howdy, did they. And brought blessings for every lesson taught! I have grown since then. So, while I sometimes wrestle with being alone, I also embrace it.

Like everyone, we need to feel connected. To be a part of something bigger. To feel the comfort that comes with interaction, understanding and caring. To be asked how your day was, reminded to drive safe, to have someone say let me help you with that. We want to give of ourselves, and to receive from others. In a safe, mutually beneficial and fulfilling way. We want someone to laugh with, who listens, who responds appropriately (or inappropriately, lol). And we want our safe comfy space. I have a great appreciation of my space. Which includes more than a little dog fur and a liberal scattering of dog toys.

It takes time alone to understand what makes you comfortably you. It takes faith and resilience. Wrestling with being alone is basically wrestling with yourself. Eventually, thankfully, you find peace, yourself and find the comfort of being by yourself. You know what the good news is? We can be alone and be connected at the same time. One does not preclude the other. Carry on, knowing even if you live alone, you are not alone.

Hello Friend

I have a friend who calls me every week. To her credit, she has seen me, knows my need for connection, and patiently waited out my ability to hold meaningful conversation. She waited for a long time; I think.  Honestly, in the beginning I wasn't very open. I had trouble finding my words. I had difficulty trusting it was safe to just be me. Just the way I am. Add to that the fact I'm sort of an introvert and I have no doubt she felt like she was pulling hens teeth. Thankfully, she's a bit of a talker herself, so she held the conversation fluently when I was learning. I've come a long way conversationally. I tell her in another six years she won't be able to get a word in edgewise. There is something so important to be said here. Call your people. Even if there is not much to say. A human voice, as opposed to a written text, is a joy to hear.

That said, I have a friend who texts with me multiple times a day. My coworkers tease me about the reality of that relationship. They ask if I want to tell them anything. And yes, I would. I would like to tell them her texts help frame my life with humor, understanding, and connectivity. Not to mention accountability, mental health care, a love for food, booze, and dogs that is nothing short of impressive. 

It is about investing in the lives of our friends/family, and friends who are like family. It is about building and sustaining connections. It is the sound of voices we love and words that encourage us.

I'm told people just don't make phone calls anymore. But please do. Call your mom, call your friends, call your siblings, build deeper connections. But also connect in all the other ways we can. With silly text messages, memes, with hundreds of sleeping dog pictures, recipes, weather updates, sarcastic comments and gentle reminders. Throw in an I Love You while you are at it and a text when you get home. It's all good.

Just As I Am

You know those mental dialogs we have? Things we say to ourselves. Self-criticisms, inner nagging, or little put downs. Some are old tapes from growing up, from past relationships.   One I find myself saying often is it doesn't matter how I look. I kind of feel invisible. I'm thinking this may be an age thing, or a widow thing. Or both. People look at me, heck I look at me, but does anyone really see me? Have you ever felt that way?

Part of me says I look good enough, or it doesn't matter how I look. Or nobody cares how I look, sometimes myself included. Sometimes I take time to put on makeup, most times I don't. No one gasps at my stunning beauty if I do, or gags if I don't. In the end does it matter? 

Maybe not caring about that is a sign of self-acceptance. I don't have to please anyone but myself. That said I see the beauty in others, in their appearance, their make-up, clothes, personality, their heart. Somehow, it's hard to see that in myself. Why is that?

So many times, growing up, or as a grown up, it's all about looks. Look good, feel good, or so they say. Look like you've got it going. Look composed, look professional, look put together. Truth of the matter, none of us have it put together all of the time. We are works in progress. We are growing, whether we can see the progress or not. We drop the ball, we have human moments, we falter, we long to be seen, heard and loved. Sometimes we don't feel any of those things. I will own that first. I have days I fake it until I hopefully (prayerfully) make it. I struggle with feeling connected. I see other's value and beauty often before my own.

I could sign this entry from a messy person, who's had a messy life full of messy emotions and trauma. But instead, I'll sign it from a healing person, who makes mistakes and learns from them. Who accepts that all the pretty trappings don't necessarily make a person beautiful. Who gets that how I feel is more important than how I look. I feel strong (most days), I feel blessed (all days), I feel capable of using my words, and embracing life as it is today. Even if I wrestle with it first, perhaps more if I wrestle with it first. That said, I'm gonna slap a little make up on today and call it good enough. Tomorrow maybe I won't and that's okay too. Take it or leave it, just as I am.

Dear Sean Dietrich

Dear Sean Dietrich, we have some things in common.

We both are survivors of suicide loss, we have a thing for old dogs, we write. Granted you are a way more prolific a writer than I am. But then writing doesn't put food on my table or feed my dogs. Writing is a way to process my thoughts and feelings. Then I figure if I'm struggling with something, maybe someone else is too so why not share my thoughts. And words, words are tricky sometimes. Sometimes I have them, sometimes I don't. Most of my life using them has been a challenge. You see growing up it wasn't safe to have an opinion, to point out a wrong, set a boundary or say what you need. Guess you could say I come from a dysfunctional home. I'm thinking more of us have than not. 

Here is what I know, life does not take us where we think it should. Being divorced, a single Mom, a survivor of suicide loss, a widow were not life goals. In fact, I wanted to own horses, lots of horses. The big guy upstairs felt dogs were more do able. So, I do dogs, and I love them, especially the gnarly old dogs. I thought marriage would be for life until my ex-husband decided otherwise. So, then I was gifted with being a single Mother. You do the best you can, and you know what? They turned out good. They grew up, I grew up. It's all good. The dog thing started when I got divorced. Getting a dog was the smartest decision I ever made. We should all keep a list entitled "Smartest Decisions I've Ever Made". Write yourself a note to start that list. We all deserve a little more credit than we give ourselves.

Your journey with suicide loss is completely different than mine. You lost a parent. I lost a spouse. I feel for you even though I can't fathom how that impacted your life. Sometimes I can't fathom how suicide has impacted my own life. Or how the pain of life impacted our people who chose to end it all. It is just impossible to wrap our heads around. 

In times like these we just keeping moving forward as best we are able. Surround ourselves with what gives us comfort and joy. We grieve and we grow. We wait for the words to come and share them when they do. We laugh at the irony, we heal from the hurts, we share our gifts, we love our dogs. So can I say thank you for your words and thank you to the big guy upstairs. I think you have a different name for the big guy, but I know you believe. I know that because how else could your path and mine have crossed like this? Rhetorical question. No need to answer. Carry on, you're doing great.

We Just Don't Know

I heard a dialog recently. The question was asked "why would they put up with that"? "Were they stupid"?  That whole thought process made me sad. We do the best we can with the information we have at the time. We do the best to honor our commitments, to trust the situation, to believe. We believe in those we love, we trust them, until reality teaches us otherwise. If a person has never had that experience, then God bless them. They have no idea how lucky they are. Others have lived with dysfunction, learning the hard way. 

The bottom line is we just don't know what another person is going through. Let me say that again. We just don't know what another person is going through.  Sometimes we are that person, holding on by a thread and trying to sort it out. Other times we look on and it's painfully obvious we can't learn life lessons for another person. It's hard all the way around. In reality most of us do attend the school of hard knocks at one time or another. When we hear those questions, comments, those judgements it may take us back to times we felt like failures. Were we failures? Nope. The writing was on the wall, but we weren't able to read it. We made choices that weren't the greatest but were what we needed to do at that particular moment. They were part of our growth and development. Therefore, they were important pieces of who we were and who we are. 

They are the very reasons to be gentle with ourselves and each other. We don't know what life is like for others. We just don't know what we don't know. And no, we're not stupid. We are humans having human moments. Growing from them in our own way according to the bigger plan.

Food For Thought

Do you ever feel like you've eaten everything a million times. Do you ever feel like there should be more food and beverage choices? Seriously, what else is there for breakfast? Lunch and dinner? Maybe it's the company I keep, but dang, it feels like deja vu. Fixed it before, packed it in my lunch before and had it for dinner before. Honestly, I love food, I love cooking, I like to eat. I'm surrounded my thousands of food options at work every day. But I'm kinda of done with it. Don't worry, I'm not about to stop eating. It is food for thought though. 

I should be as excited to eat as the dogs are, as a child with ice cream is, as someone diving into a deep-dish pizza after a famine is. There I go with "should", should gets me into trouble every time. It sets me up for disappointment when I need to extend myself grace as large as a bowl of gravy. Pass the gravy please.

I suspect, because I am smarter than your average bear, that part of it is that eating is a solitary experience. Owning it is the first step. Add in the tendency to be frugal, the waning motivation at the end of the day, or the morning rush in the beginning of the day. Somewhere along the way I lose the creativity and only lightly garnish with gratitude. Some folks may look on in envy and say you can eat whatever you want, whenever you want. There is some truth to that. Funny how that's both a blessing and a curse.

How do we face those things that challenge us? The food choices, the life choices, the faith choices? How do we shift from stuck to unstuck. How do we find our gratitude. How do we spice it up so that we are fed spiritually, emotionally and physically? Good questions, no easy answers. Except for the gratitude part. That's the icing on the cake, the gravy on the taters, the whipped cream on the pie, the chocolate on the eclair.