RealMental

Last Friday, one of my son’s classmates lost his father.

The boy is a kindergartener, having only recently turned six years old. I read the letter the teacher sent home and I immediately began to sob. I do not know much about this boy, other than he frequents the principal’s office, and is well known for his antics.

That isn’t all he is, he is well known for his big and beautiful heart. He shares, he is loving.

As I am wont to do, knowing he was prone to trouble, I want to know more about him. To try and see inside his world, to determine if there is something more that should be addressed other than his negative behavior. It took me some time before he would really talk to me, this isn’t usually the case since I love kids and I always vie for their approval. Over the past few months, he’s warmed up to me.

Through the whole weekend, my thoughts kept turning to this boy and his loss. I am not sure that he will fully understand this situation for a few years. I worried if his Mom had other family, insurance, or anything to help ease her burden. These are times in which I wonder if I think too much about other people and if it really is none of my business. I subscribe to the quote, “it takes a village to raise a child”, and I fully believe in it’s power.

A few years ago, my daughter’s best friend lost her Mother when was only 9 or 10 years old. Her Mother was a friend of mine and we’d just spoken the day before about grabbing sushi at a new restaurant that had just opened in our area. She headed for the bathroom that Sunday morning and an aneurism burst in her head and she was gone. My daughter and her friend began to drift apart after this and we rarely ever see her. I miss her Mom every time I drive past their house.

All of this got me to thinking about my youthful dreams of wishing my Mom would die. I know how terrible this sounds, and I wince a little now when I think about it.

I would design horrible accidents in my head that she could be killed falling down the stairs, driving home drunk, whatever. When I got older and discussed this with my siblings, they too had wished for her to die. She was mean and she beat us. Who wouldn’t want the person who beat them dead? The woman she used to be, is not the woman she is now. She has become weak, fragile, and only has select memories. I am learning to make peace with this, she was always the pillar of strength and self control in my youth.

Putting these scenarios together side by side in my mind; my wishes for death, and the children that have actually had death at their door. I can say that I am glad that my deadly wishes never came true.

These quandries have always intrigued me, turning them all around in my head for years trying to unlock the secret of the why.

Why do the families that actually want children, are capable to raise them and give them a loving home cannot get pregnant? The parents that beat and destroy their children, live on so that the child is constantly reminded of their pain and suffering into adulthood, knowing that the truth will never be revealed.

Why do the good parents die, but the bad ones live? I’ve never solved this, but I have adopted a theory that our children choose us. Even if those children did not come from our own wombs, they choose us.

To make peace with the abuse that happens every day to children, even in my own neighborhood (and yours) I have to believe that on some level the children choose their lives before they are born. For me, it is how I make peace with the fact that I cannot save every child that I come into contact with. Throughout my main healing process, I was always told to watch children to “really” see them and how beautiful they are. This was designed to help me to understand that the abuse was not my fault. A six year old does not “want” to be touched by a grown man.

There were people along my path that reached me, inside where the pain lived when I was a child. I remember them, I remember their kindness and I believe on some level it gave me the hope I needed to rise up out of my experience, not to regret it, and heal. This is why I try to “see” children, to let them know that they are important and beautiful.

That there is more out there that will be revealed, they are not alone, they can survive and then pass it on to those that come after them.

I watched a movie recently called “The Departed”.

There was an exchange of dialog that really struck a chord within me, this is the exchange:

Jack N. character: How’s your Mother?

Irish Man: Ah, she’s on her way out.

Jack N. character: We all are, act accordingly.

Just a few simple words to bring me to the precious present, “act accordingly”.

Act Accordingly.

How many of us that try to escape the monotony of life with things? We fill our closets with things, we fill our pantries, our cars, our bodies, our whole houses and our garages with things. Some how, along the way we get the message that things are what we need in order to feel better.

I have been just as guilty as the next human to always try and reach outside of my own space in order to find the thing that would placate me, give me the feeling of being loved and supported, and pretty. I did this with alcohol and drugs.

When I was high, I felt prettier, smarter, and completely free in a very ethereal way. I was Wonder Woman that could overcome any obstacle that dared to get in my way. When drunk I would start fights with grown men that were much bigger than I.

My desire to accumulate was not out of jealousy or to covet others’ perceived happiness and success. My desire came from the extreme need to not feel the pain. I would do whatever it took to not feel my pain. This desire was so strong I would take other people’s medication if they offered it, and sometimes when they didn’t. I would ingest anything that I thought would stop the pain.

Lucky for me, I made it into recovery and I have 16 years of continuous sobriety. How does one who started out so badly find a way to recovery? Not only find it but stay there? Especially when I had certain family members telling me that I didn’t have a problem. My close friends at the time knew all too well that I had a problem. Denial is so strong that it will cause other people to talk you out of it so that they can continue down their own addiction paths. How dare you attempt happiness when they are not ready yet?

Around the four year mark in sobriety, I started cleaning house. Literally, getting rid of things, possessions that no longer served me. It was a process that started between my ears, and eventually made it’s way to my surroundings. Prior to this, I was a pack rat and saved everything afraid to let anything go as if these were the very things that held me together.

By letting go, I gained a million times in spirit and love that I never would have been able to achieve in my addiction. In fact, everything that my heart desired came to me in sobriety, not in my active addiction. I was unable to feel joy due to my extreme need to push the pain down.

Newly sober I thought by stopping the chemicals and attending meetings my life would be over at 21. The fun of puking in public places, stripping in a crowd, stealing, and not remembering how I’d gotten home were things I thought I would miss.

I can honestly say that at 39 years old, I try each day to act accordingly.  Some days I miss the mark because I am human, but I keep on trying just in case this day will be my last.

As I sit here, on a balcony staring out into the ocean, listening to the waves breaking, feeling the cool mist on my face, my mind wanders towards unlocking the secrets of the ocean and all the stories it holds.

I think of the people and their the secrets it’s met, the items it’s stolen from the shores as it moves in and out all day long, the vessels carrying treasures that have been pulled deep down into its deathly grip.

Those that have offered themselves up to its escape, hoping to swim their way into a new and free life, trying to escape the perils of a communist government.

Or, how many have relied upon the ocean for their final exit, hoping to release themselves from the pain of life. This thought, is the one I have wondered the most.

Each time I am in the presence of Mother Nature and all her greatness, I become Alice in wonderland, falling into the rabbit hole. As I fall, becoming smaller and smaller submitting to her will as I give up my own.

It brings me peace to know that humans will never really unlock the secrets, nor will we ever be able to control Mother Nature.

There are places that need to be left untouched and unfettered in order to remind all of us that there are much bigger things beyond our control, that work just fine without our involvement.

I believe humans try to control entirely too much myself included, we build bridges and walls to try and block out the tides of the ocean, or the falling rocks. Yet, we all know when Mother Nature decides to dance; we have no protection.

Something in this brings me a sort of peace, similar to the feeling of unrequited love. We must let go, turn ourselves over to her mysteries and in doing so, we become free.

In reality, unlocking the secrets is not my real goal; I prefer the feelings of melancholy, hope, and inspiration that Mother Nature brings to me.

I fear I would lose my passion, and join the others that believed their answers lie in trading their life for her eternal protection.

Once again I am in that place where I actively question everything and everyone that I think I know, or think I understand. Periodically, I get here and it seems hopeless and sad. It is important for me to remember that it will pass and new things will come into my awareness to change the tides.

As this is where my thoughts are traveling and exploring, this is what I’m writing about.

Lonely is the word that I find best to describe the look on my face, the tone of my voice, the slight droop of my shoulders and the slowness of my steps. Don’t ask me to “cheer up” or “get over it” because I WOULD IF I COULD.

I believe in the theory that the more we think certain things, a path is created in our brains that wasn’t originally there, helping it to become a habit. If we can find the start and finish, perhaps we can redirect that path, changing it’s course and having a better life experience as a result.

Movies about people finding themselves left in a town that’s been over-run by zombies, leaving one person, one normal person left, always creep me out. All people cannot be trusted, they are unsafe, they are wolves in sheep’s clothing. The unsettling part of it for me is that this place I am in, feels just like that. I haven’t figured out yet why this happens, I suspect it is a seasonal change combined with my history.

Oh goodie.

The mist of uncertainty, doubt and mis-trust. In the past, I’ve ended relationships, I’ve quit things, backed away from people and just kept to myself in order to feel safe.

Safety has always been an important factor for me. I would daydream about having an older brother that could protect me. I’ve often projected this need for protection onto men I’ve had relationships with. Just to keep my perpetual issue from never running out of ammunition, if anyone slightly attempted to care for me I would chop them off at the knees.

There is a difference in this period of my life, I am older (hopefully wiser), and it doesn’t have to include the wreckage of the past.

At least, I hope it doesn’t.

I went to a seminar this past weekend, hosted by my local organic grocery store. This seminar fills up really fast, I’ve been waiting for three months to attend.

The big reason for me participating was the subject matter, hormones. You always hear about women’s hormones, and rarely do you ever hear anything about male hormones. Of which, there are problems just like with women. I do not provide any specific information about problems with Males, since I am a Female that was my main area of interest.

In fact, many of the symptoms of a hormone problem mirror the side effects of antidepressants and other prescription medications. Such as, Headaches, Weight Gain, Bone Loss, Insomnia, Allergies, Infertility, Miscarriage, Lack of Motivation, No Libido, Depression, just to name a few.

After the seminar was over, I asked to be contacted for a hormone makeover. This will let me know if I am hormone deficient, which if this were a gambling situation, I’d bet my house on it.I took a lot of notes and wanted to share them here thinking it could possibly be useful to anyone who happens upon us.

As well to let others know there could be other options. I think too many times, Doctors are in a hurry to just hand us a pill to cure what ails us. Not because they don’t care but they are just as stressed as we are, and if you don’t specifically ask for more time with yoru doctor, you most likely will not get it.

The Doctor who did the seminar suggested that when you make an appointment with your Doctor, let the person know if you need more time than you usually get so it can be put into your Doctor’s schedule.

The following are some of the notes that I took, and if you think any of this might ring true, I urge you to do your own research, and talk with your Doctor. If you would like to peruse the website of the Doctor that led the seminar on Saturday, leave a comment and I will email it to you directly.

• Progesterone deficiency can cause miscarriages, anxiety, depression, mood swings and insomnia.

• Estrogen deficiency can cause foggy thinking, Carbohydrate cravings, poor/slow metabolism, dry skin, headaches. Estrogen helps to keep your cholesterol levels balanced.

• Testosterone deficiency effects every aspect of your cardiovascular, causes thin skin, muscle loss.

• Cortisol is often referred to as a stress hormone. It increases blood pressure, blood sugar, and has an immunosuppressive action. Explained, this cause sugar/salt cravings, and the cortisol gathers in the belly (belly tire) and blocks the other hormones that need to get to where they need to go causing fuzzy thinking and memory loss.

One thing the Doctor told us was the conventional way that women get hormone therapy is through prescriptions which can cause more problems than they fix. The man-made hormones that are prescribed are not a perfect match to our natural hormones, which is what causes the problems.

She noted that there is a natural plant that is almost a 99.9% match to our natural hormones, and you don’t take it as a pill but something you rub into your skin so that it goes directly into your bloodstream, and not your stomach (where the cortisol lives). In addition, she explained there are two different ways to measure your hormones, blood and saliva. The blood tests are very expensive, the saliva not as expensive but not covered by most insurance carriers either.

Once I’ve had the testing and can begin a treatment plan, I’ll update here with my experience and results.

feeling lost, and bottomless with no one to catch me.

want to run yet too old now, to think it would do any good.

empty, alone, sad, emotional.

wondering why things happen the way they do.

looking for the break that i believe i am entitled to, even though i know

i am not actually entitled to anything.

don’t want to repeat “sins of the father”,

of being everyone’s support.

old habits are hard to let go of,

holding things in because it is easier that way.

too hard to struggle.

not regretting my age, yet missing my youth to wonder if i would make

different choices.

knowing that all of the choices that led me to where i am

are all a part of a bigger plan.

a plan that i hope my higher self is in charge of.

loving lots of people, feeling emotions very deeply,

wanting to drop in and sprinkle magical fairy dust and then leave.

i question if i was built to be a “staying person” or rather someone

who can only flit here and there with no permanent residence.

i love too deeply, too much, i’m too sensitive, too complicated,

too me.

no one promises that we will be happy, that is a false illusion created by

the likes of walt disney.

i just want peace, serenity, and calm

but not every minute of every day.

perhaps i could store it in the closet on the top shelf and bring it out when

it is most needed.

if only i were not an addict, perhaps that could work.

a higher voice tells me that everything really is ok and not to worry

enjoy each as if it were my last.

that is how my dad tried to live his life, i miss him so much sometimes i

fear i will become invisible with sorrow.

he always knew the right thing to say, or perhaps he is the only one that i

actually “allowed” to say the right thing and be comforted by him.

the trust issues,

of them,

i have many.

my higher self is protecting me from harm

it is important that i experience the emotions

in order to break on through to the

other side.

perhaps i have channeled morrison.

Dear Mom,

I need to let you know that I am no longer mad.

It is possible that you didn’t know I was mad to begin with. Being a mother myself, I could speculate that you may have not known what “it” was, but I’m sure you’ve known that something wasn’t right with us.

When I called you last week sobbing, I wasn’t expecting you to be someone other than who you are. Your way of comforting me can sound a lot like criticism, but this time I heard with ears that are healing. I bristled a little just out of habit, then I realized that this is the way you try and comfort me.

This is how you comfort yourself, you take care of yourself the same way that you were cared for as a child. It is all you know. This makes me sad to know that you weren’t taken care of in the manner that each human deserves, with love and support.

If I was having a particularly hard week emotionally, I would beg my therapist to please tell me how to be around you without becoming sick. Each time I would ask him like it was the first time I’d ever thought to ask, and he somehow held the magic key.

His answer was always the same, “accept her for who she is and not who you want her to be”. This felt like a cop-out, a way to avoid handing me the magic answer that would allow me to be with you free of the knots that would form inside of me in your company.

The therapy work I’ve been committed to for the past two years is all about my relationship with you. The triggers began when I became a parent and took some time to bring itself to the surface enough so that I could begin the work of healing.

This is new territory for me, an area that I will need to tip toe into very gently and with a lot of love and support. Love and Support that I will give to myself. I won’t look to you, or others to love and support me in the way I need to give it to myself.

It’s my job now to take care of the injured one that lives in my belly. I thought being angry with you was the way to rid myself of the pain the abuse left me with. It was the only means I had of processing it all.

This is just a beginning for me, I hope it is a path that I can continue following. Not just for you, but for me. The release and calm I have is something I never got by holding on to the angry.

Just in case you knew I was mad, I need for you to know that I am not mad anymore.

I love you for who you are.

With much love,

Your Daughter