Eye Opening Honesty

For my new visitors who want to read from the beginning, hit the Home button above and scroll to the posts at the bottom until you reach my very first post “The Therapist is In” You may have to click “older posts” to get there.

It will help get you caught up on the entire story and I would highly recommend it.

At the urging from a Lashtastic friend in Texas, I have decided to chronicle my crazy life experiences in the hope that maybe there will be someone out there who reads my words, reads my stories will know that they are not alone. That people can overcome even the hardest of challenges. And most important of all. That there is always HOPE in this crazy, messy, chaotic world that we are all just trying to survive. To live to fight another day.

I will be incredibly honest and transparent in every word I write. It helps me gain perspective. I grow more peaceful with every post that I publish. And I am just so grateful for YOU. My readers have been so incredible supportive and loving. You give me the courage to keep telling my story. Thank you.

Welcome to my Eye Opening Honesty

My Conflict Averse Self – Part 1

**Stay Tuned, There is a Part 2 to this post**

I see an amazing mindfulness therapist each week and the breakthroughs we make together are astounding. They never come in the hour I spend with her, it is the 6 days in between appointments when I am able to process the information that we discuss. Being engaged in therapy is difficult and exhausting. But I personally believe that therapy is for everyone. Find someone great who enhances and challenges your ideas on life and I promise it will give you an advantage in how you see yourself and how you exist in the world.

That being said, at my visit yesterday we got into a very interesting discussion about different personality types and their response to conflicts and challenges. I have what is called a “conflict-averse” personality. I will give up my best interests and happiness to avoid anything uncomfortable. Believe me, I have every excuse in the book memorized and ready to be recited at the slightest sign of conflict. Problem is that conflict is unavoidable. Conflict is central to our human experience. It can range from simple to complex. It can be short lived or last a lifetime. I’m a person that would encourage you to “pick your battles”, but I will never find a personal reason to go to war. My war rages inside. 

Fun fact: Avoiding conflict creates more conflict. 

Dealing with conflict is a learned skill. A universal truth about conflict is that it is uncomfortable. It is absolutely necessary to make peace with this fact. It is important we acknowledge that you will never be in your comfort zone while dealing with particular conflicts. actually help brace yourself against the tension that results when you deal with it. Conflict is messy, but we have to learn to love the messiness of it.

“Avoiding conflict is an inner struggle – should I deal with this now or later? – and one that can cause a lot of anxiety. It’s better to accept that conflict will happen and that sooner or later, you’ll need to face it. Don’t rush into it, but don’t put it off, either: consider carefully the type of conflict and how best to manage it. The sooner and more skilfully you can handle the conflict, the less anxiety you’ll have over it.”

Inner Conflict vs External Conflict

I am an introvert. That does not mean I don’t love being surrounded by people. I do. It just means that afterward I feel drained. An extrovert on the other hand feels energized by their interactions. They don’t mind large groups because it is where they thrive.

Part of what drives me to avoid conflict is my personal experiences with specific challenges in my life. I hate conflict so much that after going through one I feel like I’ve run a marathon. I just hurt so easily, there’s no emotional skin. I try insanely hard to understand what motivates people what makes people choose chaos.  

I do what I wish people would consider doing for me. I stop, think, and try to gain perspective. I dig deep inside and put myself in their shoes. Understanding the chaos and where it comes from is extremely important to me. 

So what is a person like myself to do with these things happening around me that are unavoidable?

There are a few great questions we can ask ourself when we notice an inner storm brewing:

1. What is the absolute worst that can happen?
2. What are my true fears vs the irrational fears I might have?
3. Realizing we cannot own other people’s feelings or reactions. All we can do is try and be considerate and kind. Their feelings are their own and not your responsibility.
4. Acknowledge and appreciate your efforts in trying successfully or unsuccessfully to resolve a conflict. Then then let it go.

Here are some great tips I found in an article in Psychology Today about embracing conflicts at the workplace. I love the tips but I’m going to spin them to relate in a more personal way.

1. Express your contrary opinion as an “and.” It’s not necessary for someone else to be wrong for you to be right. “I hear that you think we need to leave room in the budget for a customer event AND I’m concerned that we need that money for employee training. What are our options?
2. Use hypotheticals. If you don’t feel comfortable being assertive, try asking your friends or family to imagine a different scenario. In my experience, I am TOO hypothetical. If I am going to use this skill I need to dial back my imagination and approach it with more simplicity.
3. Talk about the impact of actions. Rather than disagreeing with the plan, help people think through the consequences by asking good open-ended questions about the impact. Ask about the underlying issue. If you disagree with a proposed action, start with discussion by trying to understand.

All these rational ideas of dealing with challenges and conflict are fine and dandy but they are not the reason I sat down to write this post. It was to talk about what I do best. When I start using my unique perspective to cut through the crap and see how I can change our collective present and future.

 

Some thoughts:

Yes, we absolutely need to prepare ourselves for inevitable challenges and conflict in life because it is where we are able to grow the most. Acceptance is important

I’ve decided that this will be my morning mantra. One of the greatest things I have learned when using affirmations to guide you in this world is to make sure you are grounded. That means planting your feet firmly on whatever ground you are standing on. You need to imagine your feet extend like roots of a tree as far as they can go. Be present.

The challenges I face today are made just for me. There is no one in this world who is better equipped to handle anything that comes my way. I was trained for this. I am battle ready with tools I do not have to fight this on my own. I have my faith in a higher power and a universe that is standing ready to help me become a conquerer. I will not feel defeat. I will feel growth.

The war is inside myself.

Through the fire we understand Resistance creates rewards of discipline.

You will never appreciate relaxation unless you have worked hard. One of the worst decisions you can make is to be comfortable.

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will, When the road you’re trudging seems all uphill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit-
Rest if you must, but don’t you quit.
Life is queer with its twists and turns,

As every one of us sometimes learns,
And many a fellow turns about
When he might have won had he stuck it out.
Don’t give up though the pace seems slow –
You may succeed with another blow.
Often the goal is nearer than

It seems to a faint and faltering man;
Often the struggler has given up
Whe he might have captured the victor’s cup;
And he learned too late when the night came down,
How close he was to the golden crown.
Success is failure turned inside out –

The silver tint in the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are,
It might be near when it seems afar;
So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit –
It’s when things seem worst that you must not quit.

xoxo, Kristin

Music moves me. It inspires me. It is necessary for me to live. When I pull out my MacBook and sit down to write, immediately the headphones go in and the music goes on. Starting now, the end of all my blog posts will have one song I feature that I helped me work up the courage to push Publish. Gotta say, I can’t get enough of Alessia Cara right now.  Her voice is haunting and I’m drawn to it. LOVE HER!!

Additional Blogging Playlist

Alessi Cara – Here

Would You Follow You – Motivation

The Light at the End of the Tunnel – Motivation

Greater Is Coming

God says “The reason some people have turned against you and walked away from you without reason, has nothing to do with you. It is because I have removed them from your life because they cannot go where I am taking you next. They will only hinder you in your next level because they have already served their purpose in your life. Let them go and keep moving. Greater is coming.” Says the Lord.

I am experiencing so many mixed emotions right now. I have to believe that greater is coming. I just need to hang on through the chaos. If you have the ability, I would love any prayers or kind thoughts you can send my way.

Please enjoy your family through this holiday season. Don’t take them for granted. Love them deep and be sure they know it. Those three words have more power than we could ever know.

Hang in there with me. I need you right now. More to come.

xoxo,

Kristin

 

Not So Merry

I just went back a looked through all the blog posts that I haven’t published yet. Most of them are thoughts and stories that haven’t fully matured to the point where I feel comfortable enough to push the “Publish” button yet. Maybe January sometime. I just want you to know that I am still writing.

I was reading through some of my past posts and I reread the story about two Christmases ago. What a different time it was.

I’m not going to lie, I’m struggling. I hate this holiday. We sing of Joy and Happiness. But what happens when you don’t feel those things? I don’t know how many times people asked me around the holidays why I couldn’t just be happy. “C’mon Kristin, it is Christmas. What is there to be sad about?” A lot. Now leave me alone. I understand completely why the suicide rate is so high around the holidays. STOP putting pressure on yourselves and those around you to live up to an impossible standard. It is okay if you have some “magical” moments, BUT dang it! It is just as okay if you don’t. Remember your Savior. Celebrate that.

I have found quite the community of amazing BPD survivors like myself. And there is a firm and scary statistic associated with this illness. 1 in 10 people with Borderline Personality Disorder will complete suicide. ONE in TEN. Isn’t that just crazy? Survival rates for most cancers are higher than that ratio. So please let me urge you. No matter what side you are on, sick or not, PLEASE be kind to yourself over the next few weeks. Don’t push yourself more than you need to. This isn’t a time to reflect on this past year and hate yourself because you weren’t perfect. There was only one perfect person who has walked this earth and it is a time to celebrate his miraculous birth. Focus on Him. I know so many of you feel incredibly lonely over the holidays so can I recommend something that always works to wipe the looniness from my life? Go find someone to serve. Do something good for someone else every single day for the next week. Make it big or small I don’t care. Donate some money if you have it. Donate your time. Doesn’t matter, Just DO.

I am writing this because the old feelings are creeping back that I felt in years past. How much I hate this time of year. How I hate the expectations. How I don’t understand why I just can’t be like everyone else and enjoy it. But I’m taking my own advice. Service. I’m donating my time. I’m donating my money. I am trying to feel the calm in being around my dog, who doesn’t care if I’m not giddy because it is Christmas.

But the depression is still there. I stay in my bed longer than I should. Eating and showering become a chore. I’m trying to find my way through the fog. It is harder than anyone will ever know.

So, these may not work for me, but here is advice for you:

• Lower Your Expectations. This is a rule of mine. Realize what is important and prioritize carefully.
• Say no. This is one of my favorites that so many struggle with. Learn to be comfortable saying no and stop feeling guilty about it.
• Don’t compare the past with the present. This holiday season may be different than years past. Stay in the present and try to find joy in each day.
• Finally, Forgive yourself. You deserve forgiveness as much as anyone else.

Be kind to yourself always. Make small improvements every day because they will lead to fantastic changes for your future.

With as much love and light I can send your way,

xoxo – Kristin

 

 

Why I Left Younique

** Everything written here is based upon my own personal experiences. All opinions are my own.**

What is done in the dark always finds its way to the light.

If you have never been in direct sales you may not understand this post. That’s okay. Just come back next week to read how Seth and I met. It is such a fun story.

Back to business. I started writing this post a few weeks ago with a specific intention. I wanted to document my first experience in the world of Direct Sales. What I loved, what I didn’t. What I wish I would have done better and the positive changes I can make going forward. I had decided to leave Younique months ago. LimeLight just happened to come along at the perfect time with better products at better prices. I actually vowed to never join another direct sales company after my experiences with Younique, but I couldn’t pass up the incredible opportunity to work closely with one of my best friends again. She was the one who inspired me to start writing this blog. She is my soul sister, my partner in crime. I feel very blessed to learn and grow in the LimeLight community with her. I am also incredibly grateful to get the opportunity to make a fresh start.

Please know I never had any intention to write THIS. I really thought I would let it go and try to move on….

But then I started to see friends around me that left Younique bullied and harassed. I saw grown women tear each other apart. I saw top leaders making hateful videos in their training groups vilifying other women who were just trying to make a positive change for themselves and their families. Lies started being spread to undermine their credibility. Can you even imagine that all of this chaos stemmed from a decision to leave a cosmetics company that no longer provided a positive experience? I’m pretty sure it is an okay thing to do. Things change for people all of the time and you have to learn to adapt.

Watching all the hatefulness was a wakeup call. The shame, lies, misunderstandings. Then the coverups. I have seen some of the most ugly things this last month on social media. I don’t know in any other profession where this type of bullying would be tolerated. And yet in the Younique community that I experienced it is pervasive. I honestly can’t wrap my mind around it. It is heartbreaking for me that people are scared. Scared to leave a direct sales company!! Does that even make sense? I have people scared of the backlash and of being bullied. The messages I get from women in this exact position make my heart hurt. But the sad fact is they aren’t wrong. Those of us that have been with the company for years and were high in the ranks or have a big following ARE experiencing those exact things. I personally know of 10 people right now who have quit, but are scared to tell anyone because of their rank within Younique.

Much of the shame game they played for those of us that left the company was that only ‘losers’ quit. They made Periscope videos about it. And this all came from some of the top leaders at the company. They began to engage in passive aggressive bullying in their posts on Facebook. It was painful to watch.

Younique did provide me with an outlet for a while. It gave me confidence. It made me happy. I moved up in the ranks really fast to the second highest status in the company. And then things changed. People changed. Products changed. Which meant I had to make a change. I no longer felt like I could stand behind the company or its products with honesty and integrity.

 “If you are physically able to work from your phone then there are no excuses. Even if you are in a crazy accident and lost all your fingers, you can still figure out how to voice chat. I’m tired of people telling me that, ‘Oh, I’m in the middle of a big move. Oh, I just had a baby. Oh, my dad just died. Oh, my marriage is ending.’ Those are personal. You can take a few days off. But separate your personal from your business. If you don’t work your business you are hurting your family and others. No excuses.”

This was a statement made by one of the top leaders in the company a month ago. I personally believe in leadership not dictatorship. If that is what it takes to be successful then I guess I don’t want success. I don’t ‘Bleed Purple’. My family comes first. My faith comes first. And I would never ask anyone to “bleed” for a company.

Do I regret joining Younique? No. Do I wish I had handled some of the challenges better? Of course. The company exploded overnight and it was really hard to keep up with the hyper growth. We had minimal training. In fact we had to build our own. But without Younique I would not have gained the skills necessary to move on and be successful in so many different areas of my life.

Younique’s Mission:

Uplift. Empower. Validate.

People crave validation so I understand why it would be part of the mission statement. But it is something that I never experienced there. I was ignored and dismissed by my leaders, by Corporate. When I had concerns I was told to just “be positive.” If you ever had a question or concern you could not ask it in the team groups without it getting deleted. I understand not letting negativity breed more negativity. But concerns need to be addressed and dealt with. Not shoved under the rug never to be discussed again.

The positive in all this is that through these struggles I have been Empowered to find my voice and speak my truths whether good or bad. I have learned what it means to feel truly Uplifted. And I understand the value of Validation in all areas of my life.

So many of you will have no idea what I am even talking about. Your experience with Younique will be no where near what mine and others was. That is okay! I am truly grateful that is the case for you.

In fact when I first joined Younique, I was over the moon excited! I was going through some really difficult and intense things at home and it was the perfect way to feel part of something bigger and it gave me chance to join a community of remarkable women.

I gained friends who (for the most part) loved and supported me. The 3D Fiber Mascara was AH-mazing! The skincare line of Awake Face Wash and Brilliant Moisturizer was flying off the shelves because they worked so well. These were three phenomenal products that I could sell in my sleep! It truly was the best.

***AT THE TIME***

First, they decided to get rid of Awake and Brilliant and replace them with other products. They added fragrance and other ingredients that would never be considered “naturally based” which for me is a big problem because I am sensitive to everything. We were never made aware that it was such a drastic change.

But let’s talk for a minute about the “Magic Mascara”.

The 3D Fiber Lash Mascara is what put Younique on the map. It is their flagship product and their #1 best seller. This summer the company decided to change the formula of our famous mascara by inventing an entirely new product that they called 3D+. They made it this “epic” announcement that said they had been working on this formula for 18 months and truly felt they had perfected it.

So I got my set of 3D+ and I had already heard mixed reviews. I figured it couldn’t be that bad though right? Well, wrong. It was horrible. And don’t assume I didn’t try to make it work. I went through 7 different sets of 3D+ all from different batches with the same result. It made my eyelashes hard and brittle and my eyes would get extremely irritated. I have VERY sensitive eyes which I why I gravitated toward Younique in the first place. They always advertised how natural the products were. I could actually wear mascara for the first time in 2 years with the regular 3D.

Yet Corporate ignored our complaints. Top leaders told us to keep quiet and stay positive. And then months later made excuses and said they were going to “work on” the formula. I personally am still getting complaints to this day. Anyway… Start doing your own research. The information is out there. They reformulated almost all of the products. Check the past ingredients against the current ones. And even after almost 6 months and “fixes” to the 3D+ I still cannot get it to work.

My mom has been my biggest supporter and cheerleader throughout my Younique career. She loves the products and so I had her try the 3D+ and she had the same experience as me. She also went through 4 different sets and had to fight with Customer Support through email to get new ones sent out to see if she could get better results. There was never an improvement and she went back to using drugstore mascara.

Some may or may not have noticed around August that I completely stopped working my business. I felt I could not ethically sell this product to my customers and friends and still sleep at night. But most importantly, I didn’t want anyone to join my Younique team under false pretenses about this “amazing” mascara and products, so I stopped offering this opportunity to anyone. I even discouraged it.

Since you are reading this I want you to be aware of something. There is risk in speaking out. Women that have left Younique have been threatened with lawsuits by the owners of the company so I have been careful with what I write. Literally everything I have written here can be backed up with screenshots or videos. I’m not naive. I currently have 2200 screenshots saved and cataloged documenting the events over the last two years. But especially over this past month with all the disturbing things that happened.

There are so many more truths I could share. I wish I could tell you everything. For those that have experiences similar to mine, you know what I shared is just the tip of the iceberg. I think you all would be really curious to know what happens after you leave the Younique world. Especially how you are treated by Corporate and those people still within in the Younique bubble. Those stories will come to light eventually. Truths don’t remain buried for long. I honestly hope everything gets worked out and somehow the culture at Younique will change. I have many amazing friends that I still love and support there. Please know I will always be here to cheer you on no matter where life takes us.

 

Wishing you Love and Light,

xoxo – Kristin

If you haven’t read my other blog posts that I wrote the past few years you should start. Don’t make judgments about me without taking a moment to understand the full story. I have laid my soul to bare on these pages without one regret. I cover sexual abuse and rape, traumatic brain injury. mental illness, divorce, struggling with motherhood. And who can forget … falling off a balcony and a few months later being run over by a car. This is my very first post talking about Younique so obviously I found it important enough to share next to those other difficult topics.

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Breaking Point

“Show me somebody who’s gone through divorce without feeling deep aching loneliness and I’ll show you somebody who never felt love.”

May 2015

I have dreaded writing this. I think because I feel like it invalidates so many of my blog posts. It feels like failure. I am tired of this cycle. It hurts like nothing I have ever experienced. The pain is so tangible I can almost reach out and touch it. I can’t breathe. I feel paralyzed by fear and loneliness.

I have to stop the pain. Numb it, destroy it.

In April of 2015 I reached a very difficult breaking point. It was ugly. In order to save my life, I picked up and moved with my 3 and 4 year old girls to Utah. It was one of the scariest decisions I have ever made, but I needed to be surrounded by family. My oldest daughter wanted to finish school in Arizona before she joined us. I left her with Seth for 6 very long weeks. Honestly, I was losing my mind being by myself in Arizona. I was in crisis and not having family around when so many traumatic things were taking place was not healthy. My 3am panicked phone calls to my parents had to stop. I had to find a way out. 

When I got to Utah it was like I could finally breathe again. In Arizona it was just me, Seth and the girls. We were in a never ending cycle of crazy, living in a tiny fishbowl. He and I aren’t great at communication, never have been. We struggle with our differences.

But I had to face reality.

Could I fight for my girls? Was I strong enough to finally let go of my marriage? I fought so hard to make it work. I fought hard to “fix” and make up for my shortcomings. I’ve always felt like the challenges that I faced in my life are destroyers. They destroy dreams. They destroy relationships. And then finally, they destroy people. Because they are a burden it means I am a burden. The challenges are difficult so I am difficult. The shame and responsibility I feel for these failures never ends.

It was time to break down all the ways I had convinced myself I was horrible. To regain my self-worth.

You are not a good mother.

You are a terrible wife.

You are a failure.

Come on, look at everybody else who has it together. Why don’t you? 

Lies.

Goodness. Life is messy. It is not cookie-cutter and Pinterest boards.

Trying is not failing and forgiveness is incredibly powerful. I needed to find a way to be a good mother my way and finally forgive myself. Let my past be exactly that. The past.

I began to do my research on Arizona child custody laws. Getting advice from attorneys and I started taking the proper steps to make that happen. This was a really big moment for me. I started participating in my life again. I had to let my work go. I needed time to organize all of my thoughts and to put my girls first. I tried really hard.

But the loneliness kept creeping in. Enveloping me at night. How long can I stay in bed before someone notices I haven’t showered in 5 days? Please don’t see me. Please let me be invisible for just another day. Maybe things will be better tomorrow. Maybe …

Surviving Suicide

Please note: This was originally written at the end of April 2015. The subject matter can be difficult to read. Trigger warning. 

“You weren’t meant to do this alone. If you’re constantly putting on a front that you have it all together, other people will start to believe that you really do have it all together. So, I challenge you to be honest with trusted friends and family. Share your struggles with them and let them help carry your burdens and encourage you. Because the truth is: you were never meant to do this alone.”

APRIL 21, 2015

Recently I was criticized for being so honest and baring my soul on these pages. It hurt. I believe that in order to write the things I do, it takes courage. It requires me to be vulnerable and it is far from easy. It helps me heal and I will never apologize for being honest. If you don’t want to know about me and my life then just don’t read it. Heavens. 

Anyway, I really didn’t expect to sit down and write this tonight. I wasn’t sure if I was ready. But then I read this article about Natalie’s Story and I decided that I needed to get this out there while it was at the forefront of my mind and while I felt brave enough to tell this part of my story.

So we all know I suffer with Borderline Personality Disorder. If you don’t know what that is, please click on the link to read about it. You never know, it just might change your life. I hear from people all the time that never knew this disorder existed until they read my story and all the sudden their life, or a life of a family member finally makes sense.

This week I have been feeling a wide range of emotions. I feel inadequate, worthless and unworthy. My mind tells me I am the worst mother and my kids would be better off without me. You know, I honestly thought my marriage had changed. I thought we were finally moving forward. But really it was just the calm before the storm. The hurricane was still brewing.

His love was a lie. How could I be so blind? I feel betrayed and hopeless.

I knew. I knew that the changes I made weren’t enough and they never would be. Why couldn’t I just be good enough for once? Is that really to hard to ask? Seriously. Everyone around me could be normal, why not me? Why couldn’t I just give my husband the life he wanted?

Last week I sat on this overpass at 2am for hours. Just staring down and thinking what it would feel like to jump. I have sat on many overpasses in my life. Willing myself the courage to take the leap. I took this picture while I was sitting there. I was mesmerized by the cars lights. I always wonder where the people are going. Are they going home? What type of life do they live? What struggles do they face? Are they happy? Is anyone happy?

I have attempted suicide many times. There are many blog posts dedicated to them. Especially the one that changed my life in 2013. But I have learned from my failed attempt experiences. I knew there were two options to ensure that all this pain would finally end. I didn’t have access to the first option thankfully. But on April 15th, I drove to Home Depot. Purchased what I needed. Cut the rope. Tied the noose. And then I found the perfect spot, the perfect tree. And I sat there two nights in a row going over the details. Very few people will know what it feels like to have a rope pulled tight against their throat. I do.

Please understand. It isn’t that I’m so depressed that I feel I have no purpose in life. It is that I feel everything. It is exhausting. I feel every emotion. I feel the pain. The dark of the world invades my soul. I internalize it all to the point it manifests as excruciating physical pain. 

Honestly, I miss my husband. But maybe even more I miss the relationship, closeness and intimacy that is shared by two people who love each other. We have been through so much … how do you recover from it? What happens when one persons love is greater than the other?

This post is not supposed to be depressing, shocking or negative in any way. I am following the timeline of how I got to where I currently am. It has always been my policy to never omit my experiences no matter how difficult. You think I want to admit that my life went down this path again? That I failed again? I’m taking the chance and being vulnerable for any to read. Maybe the radical honesty can finally break some barriers and stigma. And guess what? Spoiler alert: I survived.

UPDATE:

“You’re exactly where you are supposed to be right now, you are exactly who you are supposed to be… Your journey led you here for a reason, and it’s not required for you to know exactly where it goes from here. Just listen to your heart and take one inspired step at a time.
Trust yourself. Be patient with yourself. Be kind to yourself… And most importantly, LOVE yourself, because YOU ARE MAGNIFICENT, just the way you are.”

After those dark days in the car and beside the tree I made a radical decision. I was done.  I left. It brought me here. I’m placing the final edits on this post on 11/11/15. A lot of time has passed. Things have dramatically changed. I feel at peace and I am so incredibly grateful.

I have amazing parents. Can you imagine getting a call from your daughter at 3am detailing the plan to take her life while she is 1000 miles away? The plan to take the pills then hang the rope? It is impossible to imagine the pain they must have felt. The helplessness. Thank you Mom and Dad. I may be an adult but I can’t do this on my own. Pure unconditional love and acceptance from you saved my life.

Anyway. I finally decided to trust myself. It got me here and I am building something beautiful.

NOTE: Do you know what would be really amazing? If we stopped saying someone “Committed Suicide”. Criminals commit crime. Suicide is not a crime. It only contributes to horrible stigma associated with suicide. Saying ‘committed’ implies blame. Let’s decide to stop that right now.

If you or someone you know needs help, please visit the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. You can also reach the Crisis Text Line by texting “START” to 741-741. Head here for a list of crisis centers around the world.

xoxo,

Kristin

Memories Fading

Something is going on with my brain. I haven’t really talked about it much and only a few people in my inner circle know. I am having long term and short term memory loss again. I know the information is in my mind, but I just can’t access it. And it makes me incredibly nervous.

Let’s talk brain injury for a minute. I fell off a balcony. Got run over by a car. I have damage to my left frontal lobe. My last MRI was 10 years ago and I honestly don’t have the $900 to get another one right now. I’ve been trying to process the implications of this new development.

Is this because of the brain injury or because of the hundreds of drugs I have been prescribed over the last 15 years? In all my attempts to end my life, did I do more damage to my already broken brain? Did I do this to myself?

I am worried so I have been writing a lot. I’m scared of what more I will forget and I try to write every few days. If I have an idea and I don’t make a note within 5-10 minutes the thought is gone and as hard as I try I won’t be able to find it. I’ll be 35 in a few months and I’m nervous for my future. I’ve dropped the ball with so many things. Kids school stuff especially … so let’s just add guilt to this already hazy picture.

One of my coping skills has been right at my fingertips. I use the camera in my phone at least 15 times a day. I take pictures of everything so that I remember what happened or what I need to do. My camera roll has over 5000 photos and I go back often when I need a refresher of what happened in the days and weeks before. My notes section is full and I send myself audio recordings. Thank heavens for technology.

But is this my life now?

I have wanted to publish the next few blog posts months ago. I know how to write and I love it. But the details keep fading. I search my brain and all I get is fog and pain. I go to bed with headaches. Sitting here writing this right now the headache has already started.

Obviously I’m going to try and see if I can improve my situation by changing as many things in my environment as possible. My goal is to get rid of gluten and dairy and increase my intake of Omega-3’s and Fatty Acids. Get as much brain food as possible and get rid of the junk. Decrease the stress (yeah, right).

I’m going to try.

Anyway. So that’s whats happening. I’m scared.

A few years ago when my life was hell I would have probably said that this memory loss is a blessing in disguise. But so much has changed and I really do want to remember my life now …

Oh the irony.

Where have I gone?

I honestly don’t know. So many things that I have been passionate about just don’t seem important any longer. This blog. My business. Showering…..

The last six months have been difficult for my family. I didn’t want to write about them because it seemed like my life had taken 10 giant leaps backwards.

No longer. The experiences have been written. It is going to be tough because this isn’t like writing about something that happened years ago. This is fresh pain. It is time to flush it out. Get ready. November is going to be a big month for my blog. Hopefully it will help propel me forward. Reinvention is the name of the game.

A “Grey” Kind of Day

Enjoy.

xoxo,

Kristin

Trying to Find Clarity

(This was originally written March 2015.) 

My blog has always, and will always be a place for me to work through problems. A place to try and find clarity. I have found that the more I write about my life and things I feel, the more perspective I am able to have because I have to dig deep to be able to say these things out loud. None of it has been easy. I’ve decided in this post that I’m going to try and use my voice to discuss an issue that has plagued me for so many years. I want to desperately understand. I NEED some clarity.

I do not understand family dynamics. I don’t understand my place in a family. Where do I fit? I am unpredictable. Volatile. And I can create chaos.

Seth and I tried to discuss this issue last night and he said that it is going to take a lot of time for people to get over how bad I have offended them ………hey! Wait, ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Right now, people I know are dying around me. There is so much suffering. In the grand scheme of things this life is just a matter of days and moments. SO why do we have to do it alone because someone has been offended? Well, hello family and friends. Let me introduce you to my blog. Yup, I get that you don’t want to talk to me to try and gain understanding. Start reading and get caught up. I discuss my life and the challenges I have faced having severe brain trauma and a personality disorder. I discuss my marriage in depth. I have strangers in seven countries that read what I write. They are grateful that I am bringing these issues to the surface because no one else is talking about it and most of the time they tell me their story as well. This is a record for my daughters and their children to read. Speaking my truth is empowering.

But I struggle with feeling that I am worthy of love. Always have. Right now the only people that I know without a doubt love and accept me are my parents. When I told that to Seth, he said that maybe they are the only ones that can love me right now.

That stung.

I am 33 years old going on 34. If my parents are the only people on the face of this earth that can love me … after all the people I have met and interacted with and cared for over the years, what a sad reality. It is lonely and isolating. We are not meant to be alone. We are not meant to feel alone. Yet how many of us do?

Random fact about me: I am a person that loves to talk on the phone. I don’t like to text unless I have to. I crave human interaction. Yet no one calls me unless I call them first. No one called me or checked in when I was dying. I guess Seth decided to withhold it from most of his family. My parents kept it pretty private as well. I figure that if you withhold that kind of stuff from people that care about you, then you must be ashamed. Doesn’t matter whether that is true or not. I wasn’t ashamed of it and I didn’t care who knew. After I gave birth to my daughter and over the course of 18 months I was hospitalized 5 times. I did not want to live. I was experiencing an extreme case of postpartum psychosis that mixed with BPD created a deadly combination. Shameful? I guess. Why I couldn’t have just died one of those 10-15 times that I have tried I do not know.

Yes, I realize that I have a greater purpose. But a big part of me still wishes that I would have died anyway. No one should be able to take hundreds of pills, cut themselves open, breathe in deadly fumes over and over again and live to talk about it. I do not feel ashamed for what I have done. Sad? Yes. Pained that I caused those around me to feel fear and pain? Yes. Shame? No.

Question: If I did die, who would notice or care? Don’t say my kids because yes I know they would care. I’m asking in a broader sense. Who would care? I have a close relationship with my parents. They would care. But would anyone else notice? Would they think about me sometimes? Probably. They would initially post about it on Facebook and question why it happened. But then it fades. People move on because they have to.

So family: If I have offended you and you are pushing yourself away from knowing me and my daughters because of it, then stop. I’m really trying to understand. What is the purpose of family?

God gave Adam Eve because he said it was not good for man to be alone. It is not good for anyone to be alone. I’m guessing a good portion of my family feels alone as well, and we probably don’t know how to fix it. Our society is screwed up like that.

I read an interesting article a few weeks ago about the power of kindness. That researchers could predict whether people were happy in their marriage based on the amount of kindness in the relationship. I’m going to say that extends to other family members as well. The more you are kind to others, the more you forget yourself and the better relationships you create.

I feel that I have earned the right to be happy. And I can choose happiness. Right now I am lost. When people you know die and you start to inspect your life and what it means, it can be a very sad journey to take.

As far as I know, there has only been one person to walk this earth in perfection. He chose to take on our imperfections, our pain. He suffered for MY imperfections, for MY pain. Yours too. So I understand why I lived in a way that if I didn’t think I could do something perfectly, I wouldn’t try at all. I became ashamed as my many failures started to pile up.

When you look at the nights sky, do you see the moon and the stars, or the just the darkness that surrounds them? How would you feel if I chose to dismiss your light because there was darkness surrounding you? I shine because of the darkness.

Watch the video I posted. Does it make you realize how insignificant you are? Or do view the opposite like me and you realize your great significance? I see the beauty. If there are as many people as stars in the sky then how GREAT must God be to personally show His love for me. I feel His great love surround me daily. I know He cares about me. I am but a grain of sand and yet God loves me anyway. How great is our worth?! IF God can love as many stars number the sky then why can’t we love each other? How come we find fault and diminish the light in others?

Stop

Bullying and the Mob Mentality

First I want to welcome all my new blog readers! This is a very personal blog and I write with complete honesty about situations I have experienced. It is the only way that I can survive. And thank you so much for all the kind messages I have received the last few days!

So, in going back through my blog I have 4-5 drafts, but I haven’t published a post since January. No wonder my life has felt so off-balance lately. My blog has become a place of healing and growth. I have missed it and the clarity it provides.

There has been so much change recently that I need to backtrack and get my blog caught up to the present. This is probably a really great thing because it will help me take a big deep breath and gain some perspective on the things that are currently happening. Maybe going back to other experiences will help me not write things I may regret. Perspective is never a bad thing. But, yes, that blog post halfway done and it will be published. 

So join me and let’s dig back in the chaos and fill in the gaps. My last post was in January, so I am going to start there. Want to know something crazy? The only way that I can remember and differentiate parts on my life is through the pictures in my phone. It is my official memory jogger. My brain has an amazing way of protecting itself from painful events, but pictures always tell the story.

Right at the end of January I experienced something incredibly painful. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would have to deal with this once I became an adult.

Cyber Bullying

It was really ugly. I hadn’t felt that vulnerable and scared in a long time. For those that have read previous posts, you know that I have a history with years of bullying and abuse when I was young. I was really shocked that at the age of 34 I would be dragged in to that madness again. I try hard to insulate myself from outside influences, but you can’t control everything or the way people feel. The interesting thing is that these were women much older than me, threatening me with pictures of guns and violence. Seriously? They threatened to come to my home and physically harm me. They knew where I lived. It was absolutely insane and incredibly scary. Honestly, my brain still has a hard time comprehending the entire experience.

Why do people think that putting these horrible things online for the world to see is okay? Do they think that somehow the pain and hurt they are causing is not as cruel if they are doing it in texts, posts or comments on Facebook? Maybe it doesn’t feel as real to them.

I’m going to add a few of the images to my blog that “they” posted on Facebook, only because I want you to see what the face of bullying looks like online. Sorry about the language. I may remove these later depending on how I feel about it tomorrow. And of course, these don’t contain the entire post or the 50+ comments. It got ugly fast.

EDIT: So one of the people I am writing about in this blog post apparently still stalks me. How unfortunate that she wastes her time on something so negative. She has a complaint against me via WordPress that I am in the process of appealing. That is why one of the graphics is not viewable.

The really interesting thing was the reaction from the people who knew about the situation and why it started. When I showed them what was happening, there wasn’t even a “Wow. That is really messed up.” Their reaction made me feel like I deserved the abuse. In my mind I must be horrible if people are talking about me the way they were, right? I don’t know if that feeling makes sense to you unless you have experienced this type of harassment first hand. I felt an overwhelming sense of shame.

The Mob Mentality

Now that we have covered a little of what happened earlier this year, I want to talk about the Mob Mentality. Because when they posted these pictures, friends of theirs who had NO information whatsoever on the actual situation started chiming in. Of course right?Because hatred is contagious when they “perceive” an injustice. First off, bullying and the mob mentality is a dangerous combination. It can quickly spiral out of control because it fuels the bully’s ego and makes them more confident now that their hatred has been validated by their peers. Social media has become the biggest bully pulpit in the world. Could they say those exact same words in person? Or is it only because they have the comfort of a screen and hundreds of miles between us?

In my blog post called “Growing Pains” I talked about my experiences as a teen with bullying. What I didn’t talk about was what happened years later when I talked with a guy who joined in with THE crowd. He laughed along with the others and here is his reason why. He told me that he didn’t want to become the focus of their hate, so he felt like he had to go along with it. No, he didn’t like what was happening to me, but he didn’t think his voice alone was strong enough to stop it.

I understand the fear of being left behind or placed in the bully’s crosshairs. It’s absolutely human nature for us to want to go along in order to be included in the group. There is safety in numbers and it’s never fun to be unpopular. I know that first hand. I was bullied, harassed and generally made to feel like I existed just for a certain group of classmates’ amusement. It has made me a paranoid person who still feels anxiety in certain social situations. In writing this post I have decided that I actually have an issue with the term “bullying.” It projects an image of teasing and/or whispering behind each other’s backs. In fact, bullying is more physical violence, sexual humiliation and deeply personal attacks.

I want to be part of a group that is loving, hard working, accepting and won’t tolerate hate in any form. Call it naive, but that is my hope for the future of our human race. Revenge is not the answer. It only adds fuel to the fire. I’m talking about extinguishing the fire by teaching others how to be brave enough to stand up to a bully, and not go along with a crowd when it means giving up your humanity in order to be included. Who wants to carry that type of burden and guilt?

I will be talking a lot in my upcoming blog posts about the Power of Validation. I have only learned about this recently and it has been a game changer in my relationships. If you are ever in a situation where you don’t know what to say to someone who is struggling or in pain, then find a way to validate their feelings. I will give really great examples in a different post. But one of the best, is

“Wow. I can’t even begin to imagine how hurt you must be feeling right now. That must be incredibly painful to have them post those horrible things about you to the public.”

Part of validation is restating what they told you by using simple and precise language so they know you were listening. Do NOT ask if they are okay. Do NOT ask how you can help. Just validate their experience whether you understand it or not. It might sound simple, but it is truly powerful and can quickly deescalate a situation. People want to know they have been heard. That is why you don’t tell them that you know how they feel, because it minimizes their feelings. It takes practice. If you want to know more about validation, click here.

Fun Fact: Validation is one of the core skills of Dialectical Behavior Therapy. (The greatest form of therapy on the planet!)

xoxo,

Kristin

The Hardest Thing

This post has been sitting here waiting to be published for about 3 months. It is very personal and I’m really having a hard time finding all the correct words. When I first started writing it, there was this glorious feeling inside my heart. I want you to feel that glorious feeling I did, and so it has taken me a long time to put everything together. But most important of all, this post is for me. I like read by blog all the time. Sometimes to find clarity, other times to find and correct mistakes. But this is one of those posts that I need to read when the world comes against me and tries to tear me down.

Okay, lets start and see where this goes.

If you can, imagine yourself before you came to this earth. Imagine all the things you were able to do and learn. The peace, the calm, the love. You developed talents and relationships. Eventually, you matured enough to make important decisions. Like the choice you made to come to this earth to be tested and challenged in every way possible.

I have a really easy ability to connect with my inner soul when I need to. When I become in tune, I feel my inner Spirit and the amazing power that she holds. The body she is in isn’t perfect. It is damaged. But some days she still finds a way to let her inner spark shine.

Okay. Now I really want you to think about this. Because this is what I know:

I am part of God’s army. I am one of His strongest Warriors. So are you – you just might not have realized it yet. My Heavenly Father has sent me to this earth with tools to survive. There are talents we nurtured before we came to this earth. We need to discover every single one and let them grow far and wide. As God’s Warrior we have a divine purpose and he is counting on us to do our part.

Have you connected enough with your inner Spirit to understand your divine purpose? I have. I lose myself a lot. I forget how truly great I am. But I know what I am here to do. I have many skills I have honed in learning to survive and traverse on Satan’s Playground. We are battling in enemy territory and it is a fight and a struggle for us each day. But you know what? I have a knockout punch in my corner AT ALL TIMES. We all do. No where does it say that Satan wins. No where. He is a big old bully but his day will come. And it is coming fast. Do you realize what the world has become? I try and tune it out and just put my head down and work. It is so painful to watch. But there is hope. We see remarkable acts of service and sacrifice. We are able to find moments of joy in a baby’s first laugh or smile. These are the precious gifts our Heavenly Father has given to us to remind us of where we came from. That evil will not win.

Something else I understand and hopefully this concept make sense. Without opposition, there would be no happiness, without change we wouldn’t grow, and if we never grew then what is the point of suffering?

Pain has Purpose.

Without my intense experiences and the pain and sorrow I felt, I wouldn’t know the joy to finally be at peace. And I wouldn’t be able to write these words.

I am a deep thinker. I like to ask the hard questions that have no answers here on this earth. Sometimes I think that my own brain knows that not big enough to comprehend what I want to know. I need to understand everything. I want all the answers now.

My blog is a no judgement zone. Here is what I know.

Seth and I knew each other before we came to this earth. The first time I sat by him chills ran up my spine. I knew I loved him in that instant. I have never felt anything so powerful and overwhelming. Pure joy. My daughters that I have been blessed with on this earth are greater than me in every way. They teach me things I would have never known. They love me unconditionally and my damaged spirit craves their understanding. I honestly imagine that they were some of my closest friends in my life before. Next thought. I chose this life. I agreed to everything I have experienced. I prepared myself with tools and talents to survive the test my Heavenly Father has given me. My failures move me forward not back. When I fail it means I am trying. That I haven’t given up. HE blesses me when I fall. And picks me back up so I can try again.

You might not understand this or think I’m crazy for believe this, but I think in the afterlife we will live again on other worlds with each other. If we are continually striving to learn more, then how else must it be done but through experience. We may not have the opposition of Satan in these places but we still need to grow. We definitely won’t be singing in choirs for eternity. We have so much more to do. We all have greatness inside of us. Beautiful, glorious greatness. How exciting and wonderful is that?

We will go home and be heroes for surviving. These are the last days. We are one of the greatest generations to ever live on this earth. Every generation that comes after us will be greater than the one before. The challenges they face will be harder, but they are ready. They are stronger and more capable. There is an equal and opposite reaction in all things. One of God’s laws. Don’t worry. The greater the world falls into darkness and chaos, the greater the righteous Warriors sent to this Earth will be. Equal and Opposite. The Power God is sending to this earth to battle Satan’s destruction is more amazing than we will ever know.

Do you think what I’m saying has any merit? Personally I’m not worried of peoples opinions. I just want to open your minds to think about greater things than just the challenges of this life. Start being the Greatness that God has given your inner spirit. Find that connection. Be still. Listen. Let the truth wash over you. Discover what you believe. And then share that light with the world.

xoxo,

Kristin

Losing Body Parts

I covered in the last post the part about feeling really off balance lately. And I know it is the lovely thing in my life called my necessary, but awful radical Hysterectomy. Any time a surgeon takes a scalpel to your body and removes necessary organs it can’t be a good thing. I was fortunate though to have a robot perform my hysterectomy, so I guess I can blame “it” for my troubles. It is called a da Vinci Procedure where the surgeon operates the robot who does all the cutting and laser-ing . Check out these pictures … kinda crazy right?

It is the latest and greatest in technology and if you absolutely MUST have a hysterectomy, the da Vinci is the way to go! Recovery time was less than 10 days compared to up to six weeks for a normal procedure. I had my surgery right before Christmas and so being able to be out of bed and with my family was a huge blessing.

Want to know an absolute miracle? The doctor who I had been seeing for 3 years is one of 5 surgeons in the entire state of Arizona that is certified to perform this procedure. Coincidence? You know I don’t believe in those.

But I have learned some awesomely awful things since the hysterectomy in trying to resolve some of my side effects. Like this: Doctors only replace 3 hormones, estrogen, progesterone, testosterone after a hysterectomy, but your body actually makes 13 different hormones in your reproductive system. Now THAT is a problem!

Weight Gain. I reached out to my fellow hystersisters to try and figure out what in the world was happening to my body in the months after the surgery only to discover that 90% of women who have a hysterectomy have unexplained weight gain. And I’m not talking 10 pounds here. The stories are sad. I read 3 stories just last night from women who are exercise instructors and they can’t stop the weight gain and it is destroying their careers and their self-esteem. I have gained about 20 pounds since my hysterectomy and it is something I struggle with every day. I am so incredibly thankful that I am not in constant pain anymore but it is an unfortunate reality that it has been a trade off.

But it is a New Year. Time for a new direction. I have to figure out a New way to deal with it because it is reality. Nothing sugar coated here.

But now you need to see the positive side of the hysterectomy. The part that saved my marriage. I mentioned before that I never thought I would have kids because the doctors specifically told me to never have children. But I am blessed with 3 beautiful, talented, amazing girls. I also talked about the toll getting pregnant, and the aftermath has on my body and mind. The IV pole story, and of course the severe long lasting postpartum depression. Seth put up with it like a hero for the most part. He was more patient than anyone could have expected. So were my parents. But it was ugly. I felt distant from the new little miracle in my life. It was painful and I felt like a complete failure.

Before the hysterectomy there was always the possibility that an unplanned pregnancy might occur. And it was a scary thought for both Seth and I. But the idea of a hysterectomy never came to mind until the unexplainable pain began. When they actually removed my uterus (by cutting it into a million pieces) they determined that it was quite normal. And there was really no explanation for the pain other than it was slightly tilted. But I have never had one regret about the surgery. I lifted a burden that I didn’t know I was carrying. The heaviness was gone. I feel my family is complete for now and I feel at peace. Seth agrees. Weird as it may seem I don’t think we could have reconciled the way we did if having more kids was on the table. It removed a huge barrier in front of us and I am extremely grateful. My Heavenly Father knows exactly what he is doing. And I am smart and resourceful enough to find a way to balance my body and lose the weight. I believe that anything is possible with enough faith, followed by action.

The next blog post you get to read a crazy story about my Warrior Spirit. It was one I wrote after an intense dream I had and I’m excited to share. It was profound for me and hopefully it will be for you as well.

****And by the way that picture of my girls sums up their personalities EXACTLY! They are amazing and imperfect like all of us in the most beautiful way possible!

Life is Good … and Addictions?

Never in my wildest dream did I think life would ever be this great. My family and I are together and whole. I have amazing friends and I love my job “When you love your job so much, it isn’t work.” Seth is excelling and showing the world just how talented he is. My girls are thriving and growing up fast. They are beautiful and healthy and amaze me every day. And I’m doing what I can do to pay this forward. There are still minor corrections I need to make to keep on course, but overall life is GOOD! Well .. most of the time.

One moment we haven’t covered of hundreds more is the hysterectomy. I know you are thinking “What in the world? She just said life is so good, why go back?” Because the past is what got my life to BE good. So I have to tell it. And I said I would cover addictions, so why not talk about it now as well.

During the months leading up to the hysterectomy I can hardly recall most of the experiences because I was so drugged up, which has actually been a huge blessing sort of?. In July 2012 I started to feel massive pains in my stomach and pelvis. It left my crying in my bed, curled up in a ball almost every day. Ladies, imagine the worst cramps you have ever felt, then times it by 100. They were unpredictable and would come on at the worst possible moments. I was barely recovering from the mental anguish and hospitalizations and now a new and awful assault on my body emerged. Here is some backstory: When I was 20, I had surgery to remove endometriosis and large cysts that had grown on my ovaries. At the time they thought I would lose one of my ovaries because of how large and severe the cysts had become. But my Surgeon was able to save it, and the cysts went away for a time. But more surgeries were required.

So here is the problem with pain. I was prescribed very addictive medication when I was just 16. It provided me an escape from all the ugly things that would race through my head. It was an escape from the bullying. It was an escape for anything and everything. Any excuse and I would go right back to my anxiety meds. There were so many lies I told myself over the years.

“A doctor wouldn’t prescribe me this type of medication unless he thought I really needed it. At least I’m not taking illegal drugs. I’m not a druggie, I just have anxiety. My life is really hard so I deserve a little reprieve. I can stop anytime I want.”

That is where it began. And OH, the Ambien stories people could tell about me. The antics were crazy, but I was actually more fun when I took it – at least I thought I was more fun. It never did help me sleep like it was supposed to. Maybe I’ll have my sister do a guest blog post, Kristin’s Ambien Antics, a Look through the Years… OH, they were that crazy and deserve their own post! Singing the National Anthem in a public restaurant, stealing all the dinner rolls by dumping them into my purse and then jumping on a private boat … yup I did that! I’m pretty sure the psychiatrist who prescribed me the Xanax and Ambien when I was 16 lost his license later on. **Not because of me though.

Anyway. I happen to be allergic to Codeine. Many of you might know that most pain medications contain a synthetic form of codeine. So when I am in pain, I don’t have many options. The options I do have are powerful and highly addictive.

I gave birth to my daughter in February and the pain started at the end of July. I was given SO much pain medicine it was crazy. I actually got to the point where I only felt normal if I took some the minute I woke up in the morning. I was referred to a pain clinic because of the amounts of narcotics I needed. We went through alternative treatments. I had needles inserted deep into my abdomen with numbing medication so I could try to not take so many pain meds and start to function a little in my life. Start being a mom again. It didn’t work and was INSANELY awful!!

Reality finally set in. I had a Laparoscopy in October to determine what was going on and they saw an issue with my uterus. When I delivered my last daughter it cause trauma to my uterus which resulted in it being tilted. I finally decided I had enough. It had to go.

This decision wasn’t taken lightly. But to be honest, after all I experience when I’m pregnant, then post-pregnancy I couldn’t ever image having another baby. EVER. So it was decided. The week before Christmas I would have a hysterectomy.

The uterus is gone by new problems have arisen. My body hasn’t figured out how to function without normal hormones and I go through phases of menopause. We didn’t have enough money to get it all checked out at the time, but the process of fixing it is finally starting. I gained 20 pound in just a few months after the hysterectomy. Tough for a person with an eating disorder to wrap my head around. Anyway. A subject for another day.

If it worked to resolve the pain then I vowed to never take another pain pill in my life. No matter the circumstance.  But the problem is I am still an addict in recovery. In my teenage years the anxiety meds would run out and alcohol took its place. Just a few years ago I was prescribed Adderall to stop my racing mind. Addict. Compulsive Shopping. Addict. Work? Addict.

Want to know why I work so much? It is the most healthy way I have found to relieve the pain that is my life. It gives me purpose and it grounds me. Yes, I’m still addicted. I’m addicted to the feeling I get when I help someone grow and become someone they never thought they could be. I’m addicted to the feeling I get when I can help someone move forward in their life with renewed purpose. It happens over and over and I will never get over the feeling. Serving others has saved my life. That gives me purpose, which helps me rise above the demons of my destructive, family destroying addictions.

I need to remember to post about WHY the pain started in the first place. You will never believe it. There is no mystery, it was part of the plan. I see the bigger picture of my life. The hysterectomy was part of what saved my marriage. It is absolutely crazy!

wishing you love and light today,

Kristin 

2014 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 4,100 times in 2014. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 3 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

It isn’t About Me

So this is continued from a post on Facebook, which I have never done before, but there are too many things I want to say and I need you to be able to read this at your own pace. So here was how my FB post started … and then I will continue on writing from here.

I just had a big life changing Oprah AH-HA moment! Bear with me as I write this. I’m mean really, thank goodness that the Universe likes to keep me in check. I wrote a post on Sunday on Facebook, kind of lashing out at people who I feel won’t try to open themselves up to understand me and my illness. Especially after I have reached out and helped them  through so many life problems because of my unique perspective that my illness has taught me. I had this big feeling come over me that even though I took it very offensively…

It wasn’t about ME.

I absolutely needed to remove myself from the equation.

Then other things started to happen. First, I started writing a new blog post. Then I got a notification from Momastery. Glenn Doyle Melton (who writes Momastery) is my Warrior Guide who says everything I wish I could say, only better.

Somehow through a series of events I ended up on Momastery.com and was watching THIS YouTube video with Glennon that I hadn’t seen before. You should watch it right now so we can all experience this light shining moment together! It is only 5 minutes! Do it!

Welcome back. Did that hit you hard like me? Oh my goodness, it was BEAUTIFUL!! Make you want to hear more from her? Well, it did for me. So then finally, I searched her on YouTube and found a rarely viewed video she did for her sorority this year that is AMAZING.

This is what caused my ah-ha moment.

And maybe it is just me that needed to hear it today, but I think you need to hear it too.

This is something you can listen to without actually watching the screen. Turn it on this morning as you get ready or go through your emails, whatever. Take the time. It is worth it. Listen to every word. Let it fill your soul.

Personally, I learn best by taking notes when I’m listening to important things in life. Then I watch it again. Take more notes. Then repeat. I copied my notes to this post so I could better share this with you and to help articulate my points. Here is the video, and what follows are my notes and interpretations.

The theme of where she was speaking was “Our time to Shine”. So she wanted to know, If we are all the same, then why is it that some people shine so bright they can light up the entire room? What is so different?

She made a list of people that SHINE to her, and the common trait is that they all have Purpose and Peace. Purpose and Peace = Joy. And Joyful women are the women who shine. They have absolutely nothing in common, but they all do the same things each day. Little disciplines in their life that they do that result in Joy.

1. Relentless Eliminators of Poison in their Lives. (Coal Miners and Canary example). They know what the poisons are in their lives and they get rid of them. Period. Eliminate toxic relationships. One of the awesome, best things of being a grown up is you don’t have to have friends you don’t like. You can gently let them go. It is much kinder to let them go gracefully, then to hold them close and hate them. Because that is poison. JUST let them go. Liberate both of you. Sometimes you can’t get rid of every person or habit in your life, but you must make boundaries around them. You can love and find the beauty in almost any human being as long as there are firm boundaries in place. (Steel bars).

2. Women who shine are really really good listeners to themselves. They make it a priority to daily find a time of “quiet”. And they only take orders from the voice they hear in the quiet. When the voices get too crazy, sit down, be still, take a deep breath and listen to whatever guides you. “You are enough, all is well.” Wisdom is always speaking in the same volume to every single person. but people that shine are the ones that are quiet enough to hear it. We think they are making incredible decisions and we think they are so lucky, it is just that they became quiet enough to hear what is being said.

3. Souls not Roles. If we only identify completely in our ROLES it can be extremely dangerous. What happens when our kids leave this home or heaven forbid pass away. What happens when your husband leaves? What happens when you get laid off and are no longer this career person? Then what are you? That it why it is important to understand that you are your SOUL not your role. Find something that you LOVE. That you know you will love when you are 12, 30 or 75 because your soul identifies with it. (Beach, hot tea and reading). You will be able to say, “This is ME! It has nothing to do with the roles in my life, but makes my soul sing.” Bad times, good times all pass, but no matter what, roles come and go, And as long as I know what my soul needs, I will be fine.

4. A belief in Abundance. Scarcity tells us there is ONE pie. And if someone gets a big piece of the pie, then there isn’t enough for all of us. When a person is living in scarcity, they tend to tear others down. Those living in ABUNDANCE lift other women up especially  in public. The good news is that whether you live in scarcity or abundance, we are all jealous of each other. Shiny people feel jealous too. Their discipline though helps them counteract that because they know it isn’t true. They take action to make the feeling go away. They make it a practice to publicly praise whoever it is that is causing it and it slowly helps releases the jealousy. And then amazing things happen because when we lift each other up, we all rise together and connections are made. That is the law of abundance.

True of all the shiny women. Whether insanely famous or struggling to find their way.  None of them know what the hell they are doing. They are all scared to death all the time. They are doing the best they can. Plans don’t work for all of them. They are scared with every new thing that they try. We have this idea that brave, shiny people aren’t scared. And the idea that we have to be better before we get started with what we are put here on this earth to do, is a huge mistake. All we have to do here is ONE – We have to follow our dreams and TWO–  We have to serve our brothers and sisters.

There is no number 3. We don’t have to get better first, we just show up now, completely as we are.

We are all made of exactly the same stuff. The Shiniest people we know just practice these tiny daily disciplines. They relentlessly eliminate negativity and poisons easily and without much angst or thought. They get quiet often and only take orders from that inner voice. The know that they are a soul and they are not their role. They live with the idea of abundance and take every opportunity to lift others up, over and over. And finally they just show up scared.

 

OKAY!! Synopsis done. My ah-ha moment came because I realized that some people know more than me. I DO have a mental illness that at times can be toxic to those sensitive to it. And maybe my friend is just that, a sensitive person. I would much rather she let me go gently, then to hold me close and hate me for making her feel not at peace. After that realization, the rest of the video just sent light bulbs off all over the place. I am slowly starting to digest it all and can’t wait to watch more. I have really missed focusing on my personal growth lately. I have gotten busy with work and the holidays and more work, work, and work.

But what I learned today is that I can’t effectively lead others unless I live and breathe these five amazing disciplines. So again:

Be a Relentless Eliminator of Poison in your life

Take time each day to quietly listen to yourself

Know that your soul is more important than any role

Always believe in Abundance never scarcity.

Show up and do it Scared

So what do you think? You can let me know back on my Facebook page. I posted my favorite Ted Talks from Brene Brown and Glennon in the comments of that post as well. Thanks for taking this journey with me. Hopefully you had a few light bulbs go off as well. Much love!

xoxo – Kristin

 

The Fire

I have been feeling the need to write a new blog post for quite some time. I have one that I have been working on since September called “Seeing Around the Bend”. I don’t know why it is taking me so long to find the words I need to finish it, but I don’t feel I can publish it until I do. I’m hoping the perspective that I receive as we move into the holiday season will help provide me the correct perspective I need.

So I am going to write about other things for now. I have noticed a big trend lately and I’m not sure if you have as well. I have been on Facebook for 6 years, and in the past year, my Newsfeed has shifted. Yes, my friends have changed over the years, but this is something new. Not a day goes by that I don’t see it. Cancer. Kids, Moms, Dads. We all know someone suffering through it. But I have noticed that I see so much more. And it is becoming very personal. Is it just me?

Cancer is hitting home right now. The world is losing a beautiful and vibrant person. The saying “she lights up a room” was meant for her. Friend, I will be wearing my favorite Steve Madden shoes in honor of you this week and I can promise every time I put them on I will remember. You have been refined, put through the ultimate fire. You fought valiantly and you leave behind a bright legacy that your children will carry on. You did not “lose” your battle to cancer. You survived. You fought. And you let your light shine to every person that you came in contact with no matter how sick you were. I am so grateful that you will find peace in the Savior’s embrace. That you will finally be free of the incredible pain you have been suffering.

“Here then is a great truth. In the pain, the agony, and the heroic endeavors of life, we pass through a refiner’s fire, and the insignificant and the unimportant in our lives can melt away like dross and make our faith bright, intact, and strong. In this way the divine image can be mirrored from the soul. It is part of the purging toll exacted of some to become acquainted with God. In the agonies of life, we seem to listen better to the faint, godly whisperings of the Divine Shepherd.

Into every life there come the painful, despairing days of adversity and buffeting. There seems to be a full measure of anguish, sorrow, and often heartbreak for everyone, including those who earnestly seek to do right and be faithful. The thorns that prick, that stick in the flesh, that hurt, often change lives which seem robbed of significance and hope. This change comes about through a refining process which often seems cruel and hard. In this way the soul can become like soft clay in the hands of the Master in building lives of faith, usefulness, beauty, and strength. For some, the refiner’s fire causes a loss of belief and faith in God, but those with eternal perspective understand that such refining is part of the perfection process.

The Divine Shepherd has a message of hope, strength, and deliverance for all. If there were no night, we would not appreciate the day, nor could we see the stars and the vastness of the heavens. We must partake of the bitter with the sweet. There is a divine purpose in the adversities we encounter every day. They prepare, they purge, they purify, and thus they bless.

When we pluck the roses, we find we often cannot avoid the thorns which spring from the same stem. Out of the refiner’s fire can come a glorious deliverance. It can be a noble and lasting rebirth. The price to become acquainted with God will have been paid. There can come a sacred peace. There will be a reawakening of dormant, inner resources. A comfortable cloak of righteousness will be drawn around us to protect us and to keep us warm spiritually. Self-pity will vanish as our blessings are counted.” -James E. Faust

To my readers, Don’t give up. I know you can make it. Keep fighting. And the day you feel you can’t fight anymore, the day that you are pushed to your knees, please let your Savior take your sorrow and pain for you. He is well aquatinted with your grief. He knows you personally. And His love for you is greater than you can ever imagine. Throughout my trials I have experienced how great His love for me truly is. He has held me close. He has wiped away my tears and made me whole.

We are all being refined. Even if you don’t recognize it daily, it is there. You are being molded. Prepared to meet God. I know very personally that without my immense struggles, I would have never known such peace. Such relief and joy. Such power to know that I can conquer any challenge as long as my Savior is by my side. I am forever thankful for the compassion it has given me. I have been given the great blessing to be able to help others see that it is possible to survive the impossible. I’m not sure how I am able to stand today. Falling from a balcony. Being run over by a car. I should be dead 10 times over. But here I stand. Until the day I leave this earth, God will continue to refine me. But I know that I am not doing it alone. You do not have to do it alone either.

Great things are happening in my life right now. I am feeling a closeness in my family that hasn’t existed for a long time. I am finding amazing confidence and self esteem in all that I have been able to accomplish this year. I never imagined my life could be this good – I thought I would always be suffering. But I’m not. I finally have a reprieve. And I am so grateful that I am having a moment to finally breathe.

 

Look Up

I love being a part of the LDS faith, and I am so grateful that they are covering these previously “taboo” topics that have always existed (but were never openly discussed) with sensitivity and kindness. This is a great message for all of us, including me, to keep our heads up. Be watchful. Be aware. You never know who might be feeling this way, and for what reason.

For me, I have always fallen in the category of feeling like I was too much of a burden for those that have had to care for me when I was sick. It is a horrible, gut wrenching feeling to try and live with. I never in my life thought I would be able to get better or that things would improve. I have stated it before … hopelessness was my constant companion. Yet here I am. Things are far from perfect, but I have more clarity than I could have ever asked. And because I walk such a dark path, I understand these particular demons very well. In being so honest about my story I have had such a great privilege to have heard so many others’ stories as well. I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful I am that others have trusted me with their “hard stuff”, the stuff they never tell. Because it needs to be told. It is all around us whether we want to recognize it or not.

These past few months have been particularly hard. I haven’t really felt like writing anything — too worn down I guess. Social media can be great, but I have noticed that it can actually be a really lonely and isolating place. Someone “updates their status” and so you feel like you know what is going on in their life, and you don’t make the phone call you normally would to check in. For those that know me well, you know that I am super old school and love to talk on the phone. I actually hate texting and and prefer the phone as my method of contact. Mostly, because I never feel like people can understand and interpret my words correctly. In person or on the phone you can’t mistake my laughter and sarcasm or my sadness and frustration. Sarcasm can be especially tricky when you try and put it in written words. I mean, really, how many times can a person write LOL?? And which one of you is really laughing out loud? I would totally like to know! haha lol 😉

Anyway, I’m going to make the post quick and I just want to encourage you all to go “Old School”. Call someone up that you haven’t talked to in a while and see how they are doing. It may take an hour or so out of your day, but for the other person on the line, you can bet it is an hour well spent. And you all know I am here if you need someone to talk to as well.

Something that has really helped me lately is the fact that I have finally stopped asking for perfection in my life, and have started to notice the moments of peace instead. Even if it is just two minutes a day, those are two amazing minutes I have been blessed with. So for everyone that reads this, I wish you peace. It may not be something that you easily find, so go on a treasure hunt and discover the things that bring it into your life.

I love you all! xoxo

Kristin

What I Wish You Knew About My Mental Illness

My Post for the day is below this one — I didn’t read this article before I wrote my post this morning. It was sent to me via email a few days ago and I just got around to reading it. I need EVERYONE to read it … so I am reposting it with the link.

WHAT I WISH YOU KNEW ABOUT MY MENTAL ILLNESS

by Elizabeth Hawksworth

This one goes out to the naysayers, the ones who insist that mental illness is “all in your head”, that it can be “snapped out of”. This one goes out to the people who can’t fathom the darkness and can’t understand the internal pain. Here are the things I wish you knew about mental illness. Here are the things I wish you knew about me and people like me, because we walk the streets beside you. We sit beside you in the subway. And we’re your friends and family members.

When you don’t know, you can’t understand. And this is written from my point of view as a sufferer of mental illness only. I don’t pretend to speak for others, or to understand their personal struggles. But some symptoms are similar, and if you find yourself echoed in this article, I pray you, too, can find peace and understanding as we break through the barriers of stigma surrounding our lives and our experiences.

The first thing I wish you knew is that I don’t choose to be like this. Whether it’s my brain chemicals that are different than yours, or a situation I’ve experienced (and for me it has been both), I don’t make a choice to have mental illness any more than a cancer sufferer chooses to have cancer. My symptoms are simply different, and they are ruled by my brain, which makes it seem like I can control them. I wish you knew what a struggle it was sometimes to act normal, to keep smiling, to pretend that I’m just like everyone else. In reality, every nerve ending is buzzing, my legs are almost imperceptibly shaking, and my heart is beating a million miles a minute while I try to control the compulsions and obsessions in my brain. In reality, I would like to be safely in bed, away from the scary things in the world, in the cocoon of my apartment, ignoring everyone.

But I know that I can’t live my life that way. And when I’m having a bad day, and all you can see is irrationality and absence and a strange energy that I can’t quite hide away, I wish you understood that it’s taking every single cell in my body not to leave the outside world and hide. I wish you could see that, because I know you would understand if you could feel it, too.

I wish you knew that the thoughts in my brain sometimes have a wild way of their own. Sometimes they race and spiral at speeds unknown to man, turning over and examining every bad thing the human mind can think of. I picture the world exploding, my family dying from Ebola, what my cats’ deaths will look like. I picture murders, sexual abuse, maggots wriggling in a trash bag. I picture people vomiting, people being run over by cars, babies crying, neglected in their cribs. And I don’t have control, sometimes, over what my mind is showing me. Sometimes it’s completely hellish, unwillingly thinking of things that are so horrible. But this cycling is part of my illness. And when I smile on the outside, and talk quickly, jumping from one subject to another, sometimes I’m not just passionate and excited. Sometimes I’m trying to stall the cycling thoughts, to erase them with good things. Sometimes I’m successful. Other times, I’m not.

But I know that the rest of the world doesn’t picture these things. So I use my friends to vent to, and my writing to open the locked doors in my brain, so that the thoughts have a place to go. I do it because it keeps me from going completely mad. And I wish you knew that, that it’s sometimes hard to be in my own brain. That I can’t snap out of it easily, but I surely try.

I wish you knew of the dark winter days, the days that I don’t get up til 5 pm, the days that the soft and black cushion of sleep is the only thing sustaining me. Because my dreams aren’t like my thoughts. My dreams take me to better places. And being awake in the constant grey reminds me of the bad things in the world that I don’t want to think about. I’m not deliberately ignoring you. I’m preserving myself so that I can be there for you. I want desperately to be a good friend, a good family member, a good human being. And most of the time, I succeed in attempting these things – most of the time, I can pass for any other member of society. But I can only do that when I have the quiet times. I can only do that when I allow my body to let it go.

But I know that if you are an extroverted, social person, you don’t always understand the need for self-preservation. I know that you sometimes think I’m lazy, that I just need to change my mindset. I know you think my coping skills are rusty, that I’m just not trying hard enough. How I wish you knew how hard I try some days just to be the person I want to present to the world. I wish you knew how I quell the constant electric buzz of anxiety in my body at work on bad days, how I walk and pace to keep myself from vomiting, how my phobias and my obsessive cycling thoughts can ruin even the best experience unless I have a strict hold on myself.

Mostly, I wish you knew that no matter the mental illness we live with, we struggle with our shadows and demons all the time. That certain things can be triggering and it’s not our fault. That we don’t want attention and special treatment, that the media and the world and the general mindset of “suck it up” have created this space in which our minds and bodies don’t belong. So we try, daily, to belong. To laugh weakly at jokes about “crazy people”. To soothe and battle fears about the homeless man on the street. To break through the stigmas that have the world wanting us locked up, locked away. To prove that we are worthy people in society, worthy of respect, of consideration, of just plain friendliness.

I wish you knew these things — because behind my smile, I’m desperately hoping that you don’t see my illness. I don’t want you to think I’m weak. I just want you to think I’m just like everyone else — because I am.

I simply live with Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Emetophobia. And I’m one of millions who want you to know that mental illness isn’t a choice.

The Thunder

It has been such a roller coaster of a week. I hate to even mention this, but it has been a big factor in what has gone on. Robin Williams death. I do all of my work on Facebook so it has been difficult to even open a browser, knowing that every other Facebook post will be about his death. Opinions being thrown about everywhere. Everyone has one, and I guess I do too. I found the best explanation in an article I read here. It talked about how Robin didn’t die by suicide, he died from Depression. He died from Bipolar disorder. He died from his disease, just like a cancer victim. Because that is what he is in all this. A victim. Did you know that someone tries to commit suicide every 4 minutes? Tell me this isn’t a problem. Tell me that we all have a choice. Well I’m sorry world. I DON’T have a choice. I did not ask for depression, borderline personality disorder, bipolar, OCD, ADD. You name it, I have it. I DID NOT ask for it! And I am so sick of the opinions that some where in all this there is a choice. Mental Illness is a disease that has an extremely high death rate. I could name the statistics but I won’t. But please understand, it is not a choice.

So my husband tells me that I have had a year to get my act together. Remember I talked about my one year anniversary? Well I guess it meant something for him as well. It meant that I haven’t fixed myself enough. I have not done enough for him to want to stay married to me. Then Robin Williams commits suicide and it is plastered every where I look.…..Bad timing. But you know, I guess I haven’t. I didn’t try enough to be the best mom I could to my girls. I didn’t cook enough meals for my family. I didn’t keep up on the laundry like I used to. Remember that nasty sleep disorder? Well, I didn’t wake up at 7am to get the girls ready for school and daycare enough. And I wasn’t the best wife I could be. I don’t know. Apparently I didn’t give it my all. So it is over. I lost. BUT, just so you know, I don’t blame him. He has carried the burden of my illness while going to grad school and doing an amazing job raising the girls. No blame. Just Cold, Hard, Reality.

I’m writing this at 5am watching a crazy light show of lightning and thunder. How amazing. Lightning then Thunder. Lightning then Thunder. God’s power is Glorious. But I am wondering in all of this. When does the suffering end? The splash of lightning and the rumble of the thunder. That is what my entire life has been. One after the other the lightning strikes. So close you think it would have burned me to the ground. Then the thunder comes in and shakes my life up in such a way that I have no idea if I will ever find solid footing. So, is there ever going to be happiness for me? Or just the constant Lightning and Thunder? I’m not in the best of moods if you can’t tell. I have suffered so much. I could write an entire blog about just ONE of my blog posts. I’m tired and I want to give up and let go. Who actually needs me in this life, I’m curious. My husband is great with my girls. He can take care of them on his own. And he WILL get custody of them. So who needs me? Why do I have to stick around and suffer more? Suffer through a divorce and living on my own. Look at my history and tell me that isn’t a recipe for disaster. Seth grounds me to this world. But it isn’t my choice to make. Life is unbearable for him, and I am not enough and never will be.

Anyway. I needed to write it out and I really don’t care about opinions on whether I should have written this or not. I don’t care. If it saves my life, then let me write it. Maybe I’ll delete this post later. I’m an impulsive person and I lead with my emotions. I have tried to turn them off I swear. Just part of the disease. The disease that stole my marriage. The disease that stole my life.

Now the lightning and thunder are gone and the sun is rising in the sky. Does that mean there is hope? Can there really be peace in this crazy, awful world? Lets hope so.

Back to the Beginning

I don’t even know where to begin with this post. My heart is breaking.

First, for those that don’t know, I have had some type of insomnia since I was about 15. Well I finally learned what it is called. It is a circadian rhythm thing called Delayed Sleep Phase Disorder. You can read about it here.

It makes SO much sense why I could never find a treatment for my irregular sleep patterns. And OH, by the way. it just happens to mention Traumatic Brain Injury as a cause. Hmmmm. That would explain a lot. Everything always comes back to the Brain Injury. When your sleep cycle begins at 3am and goes until 12pm, that really doesn’t work in the real world. And it has taken its toll on my marriage and relationship with my girls. People thought I was super lazy and undisciplined, and I’m sure many still think that. Especially people in my own home. But this is a light shedding moment. Can it be fixed? I have no idea. There are very few things that work. But I’ll try them all. I always do. 

I wish I could have “that life’. The one that doesn’t involve ANY of my blog posts. I wish I had nothing to write to you. But that is not what God has given me. I keep having to break through brick wall after brick wall. And I don’t know why. I’m tired. Literally and emotionally. How can I not be? I hate the fact that I don’t live up to someones ideal, even though that is silly. No one lives up to an ideal. But I don’t even come close. What does that mean for me now that I understand why I do what I do?

I thought I was doing so well. My business is taking off like a rocket ship, and the ride has been AMAZING! I love enriching other women’s lives. Like really LOVE IT! It is what gets me through the day. But I don’t love to cook, and I have a hard time focusing (FYI, Facebook and Instagram are an ADD’s PARADISE!) The small things I can’t do. My focus is so fractured.

New Beginnings? Probably. I guess sometimes you wear a person down so much they just can’t find it in themselves to let go and move on. To forgive. And then to look for solutions. Things are going to be painful for a long time. I have no idea what the future holds. But I know I am going to need prayers for strength. Because it is beginning all over again. And I’m not sure that I can do it this time. Anyway. Sorry for the this post. My life changed in an instant this morning. The hammer dropped and I don’t know what to do.

I’m blessed. Thank You!

I just have to take a moment to say thanks to all those who sent me such kind messages, texts, emails and even dropped things by my home. It has been amazing to hear from people I don’t even know about how my stories have affected them as they have been following my blog. This world is so difficult for all of us, and what I am finding is that we all have a lot more in common that we would ever think! Thank you for sharing the LOVE!

Side note

I didn’t get a chance to talk about the DBT Skill “Distress Tolerance” in Part 2. The post ended up being longer than I thought. So I will cover it later this week, as well as my Hysterectomy and the reason for it and the awful side effects after the fact.

Some of my next topics for you all to look forward to:

Stalker “Max”. He antics are a TRIP! He wasn’t dangerous. Just always there. Literally. I will never forget the day that Seth answered my apartment door, and there stood poor Max. Holding a VERY belated birthday present for me. OH and his mom had to drive him there because at 21 years old he still didn’t have a license. OH MY!! #teamSeth rocked it! (ewwww, what if he is reading this right now? Now that would be creepy!)

The Crazy Anesthesiologist. I lived at her house for a while when I was 18 and she was one of the most corrupt Dr’s I have ever met. Let’s just say she “Operated” Under the Influence… of Drugs.

The Mafia Runner. This one is a sad story. I dated a boy when I was 16 who was wanted by the Las Vegas Mob for reasons I will explain. No happy endings there.

The Cheerleader. I became friends with her at 13 years old and it is a story straight out of “Mean Girls”.

AND there are MORE. Most of them aren’t as sad or hard to write as the two posts I just published. ANYWAY. Happy Reading.

The Damaged part 2

If you haven’t read PART 1 yet, please read it before this post.

“You can recognize survivors of abuse by their courage. When silence is so very inviting, they step forward and share their truth so others know they aren’t alone.”

Let’s finish this up. Hopefully no one had a heart attack with Part 1. Ummm, I about did, but I am just hoping and praying people understand why I had to write it. Because you won’t understand what comes next and my particular mindset without those pieces of information. This is the longest post I have written on my blog so there will be no pictures, just words.

Aftermath

Where do I begin? I didn’t go to the police. I could barely remember what happened and I felt humiliated and ashamed. I thought I had been safe enough. But I hadn’t. It didn’t even seem real. And deep down inside I knew that it must have somehow ben my fault. It had to have been right? I remember exactly what I was wearing. Jeans and a cute black top. Nothing crazy. He was a predator and I got caught in his trap. I don’t even remember his name. I blocked him out. But the damage was done. I started drinking. I have never done illegal drugs, but I used my prescription drugs as my biggest escape, often accompanied with alcohol. I didn’t deserve to live with the thoughts and images that would run through my mind. So I made my first “official” attempt to take my life. I had no idea what I was doing and it didn’t work. My parents caught it early enough that the ER was able to administer the nastiest black charcoal down my throat to absorb the pills. I was hospitalized for a short time in a nearby hospital’s mental health unit but released within 4 days. And after that I realized I didn’t know much about trying to take my life and a few pills wasn’t going to cut it. There was another attempt in between, I can’t remember, really. They are all blurred together. I know that I did take an entire bottle of my benzodiazepines which resulted in a 4 month memory loss. <– THAT was interesting for sure! I was dating a bunch of guys at the time and I think 3 or 4 of them were named Jared. Very confusing because they came to visit me in the hospital and I had no idea who they were. I become a great actress and pretended like I knew what was happening in my life. I failed miserably.

I was living in an alternate reality. Because I had tried to overdose on all my prescription medications, I couldn’t get access to anything stronger. So for my final attempt that year I just took what was available. Almost an entire bottle of aspirin mixed with alcohol. After that I remember waking up in the ICU. I don’t know how I got there, but I knew that I was mad that I was still alive. My parents weren’t there and I panicked. I started to pull out the IV in my left arm and an orderly came in to try and stop me. It was then I noticed that I couldn’t hear out of my right ear. And that entire right side of my body was numb. I had damaged my liver so bad by using the worst thing ever …. Aspirin. My liver has never been the same, but thankfully my hearing returned and most of the nerve damage is gone. Except for in my left hand where I pulled out my IV.

When the orderly tried to stop me I ended up fighting back, screaming for my parents – and apparently I kicked him pretty hard. Well, it just so happens that they decided to call the police. They determined I was ready to be released to another Mental Health Facility and I got handcuffed and put in the back of the Sherriff’s police car. I was angry. REALLY angry. Mostly that I was still alive. It was a 40 minute drive to the hospital so while I was sitting in the back of the police car I decided it would be fun to get out of the handcuffs and surprise the Sheriff. He had been really mean in the first place. So I got out of the handcuffs after 20 minutes of trying. I still have the scars on my wrists from using the handcuffs to cut through my skin to get out. Once he stopped the police car I opened my door and he freaked out because I took off. But I soon realized that I wasn’t going to get very far so I walked back. He was NOT happy. Anyway. I was admitted to the University of Utah’s Neuropsychiatric Unit. (UNI). Out of all my hospitalizations I have had in the past 13 years this is BY FAR the best Mental Hospital out there. This may sound crazy (me recommending a Psych Hospital), but who knows, right? If you or one of your family members are ever in a position to need the help of that type of hospital and you happen to be in Utah. Take them to UNI. Don’t even mess around with anywhere else. It is a really great facility! I spent quite a long time there. They got me on a medication that actually helped. And by the time I was released I felt changed. The “changed” part didn’t last long. But the medication did. I am currently still on the same medicine they gave me at UNI. It has saved my life.

From then on I only dated the damaged. And that is putting it kindly. They are really the only people that I thought would understand the experiences that I suffered. I would never be put in a situation like that again so I only dated people that I thought needed saving because they were worse off than me. I would be in charge of the relationship and have power and control over everything that happened from then on out. But when two damaged people get in to a relationship, what do you think the outcomes are? I can tell you. Nothing good.

I met Jay* at a movie. I was there with a bunch of girlfriends and they dared me to go sit next to this group of guys 4 rows below us. Well I never backed away from a challenge so I went and sat next to him and struck up a conversation. I would have never guessed that we would date each other on and off for almost two years. I know that one of the reasons I always went back to him after our short break ups was because his family had taken me in. I was treated like a daughter and as a family they were always doing fun and crazy things. But another reason? They took care of each other. No one messed with them. His dad had influence and money, and they collected guns. In fact, Jay always kept one in his car. He told me that no one would hurt me ever again, and if he knew then men who had hurt me, he would kill them. Coming from him it wasn’t an idle threat. And for a time it made me feel safe.

Over time though I would have moments when I would wake up and realize how bad the relationship was. We were both drunk all the time. We were completely co-dependent and we had broken up and gotten back together more than 10 times. Then one day I decided I had finally had enough. We were in a toxic relationship and I couldn’t take it anymore. It had been two years, I was almost 21 and I was ready to move on. So I made it official. I moved into an apartment with a friend and didn’t tell him where. The phone calls from him became non-stop. Every day I would get at least 10 messages crying for me to take him back. Then one day I listened to a message “Kristin, I wont do this. I won’t live without you in my life. It just isn’t worth it. I would rather be dead, so that is what’s going to happen if you don’t come back to me.” Classic manipulation right? But I had obviously cared about him for long enough and didn’t want him to hurt himself. So I met him a couple times that week to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. In my mind, I was clear to make sure he knew that we weren’t getting back together, I just don’t think his mind would accept the fact. And I know he didn’t think it was a possibility that I would ever really be gone. I had always come back to him after our breakups. Why not this time?

I had begun dating other people. I was trying to enjoy my life. And the phone calls finally started to slow down. Then one day his sister called me and I knew it had to be bad. So he and I agreed to meet in my works parking lot. I got in his truck to talk to him. Of anyone, I knew what it felt like to feel suicidal. We drove around for a while talking and during our conversation I got a phone call from one of the people I was dating. He knew that I was meeting Jay, and wanted to make sure I was doing okay. Well, that was the WORST time for the phone call because the conversation between Jay and I wasn’t going well.

As much as I wanted to save him from himself, this time would be different. I wouldn’t allow myself to be pulled back in to our relationship. I answered the phone because we had what I thought was a safety plan in place. I had a quick conversation with the guy. I let him know where I was. Hinted to him that things were getting bad. Then I hung up. And that is when things went from bad to beyond worse.

“Is that him Kristin? Is that the new guy trying to take my place? You know he will never treat you as well as I can right? Why do you even bother? Just come back to me.”

I responded quite but firmly that it was over. We were done. I think in Jay’s mind it finally set in. It was over. I had moved on. But he had told me before. He wouldn’t live without me. I just had never really taken it as seriously as I should. He had never been a physically violent person TO ME. But he was extremely possessive and mentally abusive. I had known that all along.

I asked him to please take me back to my car. I remember the exact road we were driving down. Two lanes on one side, two lanes on the other. Thankfully it was pretty late at night by this time when he decided to cross the center lane putting us directly in line with oncoming traffic. He gunned his truck as fast as it would go. And it could go FAST. He was a mechanic and had upgraded every part possible. He weaved in and out of the traffic while I screamed and begged him to stop. I’m sure by that point we were going about 70-80 miles per hour, maybe more. I don’t know what saved us. Actually, I do, but they are not of this world, but they try and watch out for me the best they can.

At any time he could have driven the truck off the side of the road and we would have flipped. But he just kept gunning the truck and weaving in and out of the cars driving straight for us. I was screaming at him to stop. That I would do anything to make him stop. “THEN stop dating other guys.” Okay. “We are meant to be together” Sure, I know we are. “I know you love me.” Of course I do. It seemed to calm him down and he moved back to to the correct lane. As we got about a mile away back in the direction to my work he let his truck slow down. He puled to where I had parked at work and I kid you not.

Jay, “So what are we doing tomorrow? We are going out right?”. Ummmmmm. WHAT??? NO! Are you kidding me? You just about killed us!! “But you said things would be fine. You said WE would be fine.” Of course I did. I would do anything to make you stop. — Okay, WHY did I say anything? I just should have gone along with it. I saw the rage light back up in his eyes. The truck had stopped so I got out an ran. I couldn’t find the keys to my car, but I was the manage er my office and I did find the keys to my work. I ran to the door and unlocked the deadbolts as fast as I could. As soon as I got in I disabled the security alarm and immediately reset it to arm. Thankfully he stayed in his truck.

Looking back I can realize how naive I really was. I was just 21 years old but at that point it felt like I had a lifetime of experiences. I can look back now and see the slow progression into the very emotional and psychological abusive relationship Jay and I had. Years of abuse, manipulation and control.

He could see me through the floor to ceiling glass windows at my work and I made a phone call from the landline inside. My cell phone was almost dead. Like a scene out of a freaking horror movie. I don’t know how many minutes went by, but I know he saw me make the call and he finally he drove away. I’m sure he thought I had called the police. I hadn’t. The city I worked in was where Jay lived. Most of the police in that neighborhood were his families friends. They had been to his house for big neighborhood BBQ’s. Remember the influence his family had? There was no way I was going to risk it. There were other reasons I had issues trusting the police from years before. Thinking back there are so many stories from the time I was 16-20 that would blow your mind. Maybe I will write those later. Well, you know I will but not yet.

My phone call was actually to the guy friend I was dating. I let him know where I was and that I was locked in at my work. That Jay decided to drive away. I found my car keys. Walked carefully to my car and drove home. I got to my apartment, laid down and shook for hours. And I didn’t hear from him again for over a month.

Can I tell you what is amazing (that actually makes me cry more than the awful things that have happened over that 2 years)? After all that, God sent someone to save me. He came into my life and helped heal my soul. He is my rock. He is what keeps me tethered to this world. God knew what I needed, He always has. And He sent me one of the greatest men that have ever existed on the face of this earth. The day Seth and I met, my SOUL KNEW his soul. I sat next to him and I couldn’t stop the rush of electricity that overtook my body. I could finally breathe. I thank God for him every single day. That is the beauty in all this. I went through Hell to be introduced to Heaven. Which I see in the face of my husband and my little girls. Utter Heaven.

I will tell how Seth and I met in another post because I don’t want it to be part of this one. Needless to say I met Seth and I KNEW. I knew we were meant to be within a matter of hours. He took a little more convincing. But it was decided. We were getting married.

Jay’s story isn’t over. He found out I was getting married and his life crumbled. I got a voicemail from him asking if it was true. And that his life was over if it was. So I made what would be my final phone call to him. He answered and he sounded sick, but calm at the same time. I told him that yes, I was getting married. He took a big sigh and told me that he hoped I would be happy. And I told him that I was. Then I heard a bunch of metal hitting metal. Bullets. I heard the cylinder of his revolver spin and click in to place. Then I heard the trigger being pulled. No shot went off. The gun had misfired. Maybe in his rush to get the bullets in they didn’t go in properly. I didn’t plead with him anymore. I was tired. We had played this game too many times. So I told him I was sorry and I hung up the phone.

And that was that. I never heard from him again. Occasionally I would search the obituaries to see if his name was listed. It never was, so I knew he was around. To this day he still affects my life and decisions. I am scared of him. I am scared for me and for my family. Especially in the first few years of our marriage. I was worried about what he would do to Seth more than me. Seth is this amazing soul and there was no way I was going to let him get pulled in to that world. I have seen Jay on 3 different occasions over the last 10 years. The last time I saw him was in 2010. Eight years after that experience. I had just had my 2nd daughter and we were at the County Far. I was pushing my daughter in her stroller and we came up to a booth and I could hear his voice. It is very distinctive and a voice I will never forget in my lifetime. Apparently he had quit his job as a mechanic and started working the family business. No surprise there. What is crazy is the minute I heard his voice and my eyes saw his face I didn’t hesitate. I left the stroller and I turned around and ran. He didn’t see me, thank goodness and don’t think I’m a bad mom … Let me explain. Seth was right behind me with our oldest daughter and he grabbed the stroller and came over to where I had stopped. Keep in mind. THIS IS EIGHT YEARS LATER! All Seth said to me was “Is it him?” I nodded, and we left. And I had nightmares and didn’t leave my house for weeks.

In all of this I never mentioned that my friend (that I had called after the attempted assault) ended up stalking me for three years and Seth actually had to get involved in that one. Jay’s story is hard enough to tell without Max* being thrown in to the mix as well. I attracted the weirdest people during that time, my goodness. Another day.

Anyway. I feel the safest I have ever felt now. And it is because I live a state away from all the madness. I know I am not going to run in to either of them at the store. I’m not going to see them. The nightmares have almost stopped. Thankfully after I saw Jay at the fair in 2010 Seth got in to Pharmacy School and we moved away. It is the biggest relief ever.

I have looked him up on Facebook twice now. He has never married. But I looked before I wrote this and it looks like he and a girlfriend just had a baby. Good for him. I hope he is happy. And I hope he never thinks about me. An angry Jay is someone no one should ever have to be around. I pray for them.

I hope my family will understand why I feel I can never move back to that part of Utah. I didn’t have a life when I lived there. I stayed inside and let it eat me alive. So let me have my space for now and give me more time to heal.

*Names have been changed for my family’s safety.

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The Damaged part 1

For someone with Borderline Personality Disorder to write the things I did in this post, I had to pull some MAJOR skills out of my tool box. I will cover in Part 2 the DBT Skill called “Distress Tolerance”. It is a tough skill to learn, but amazing if you can master it. My parents might need to use that skill while reading these posts.

I am taking a deep breath right now and hoping I can make it through writing these stories out. These are things that have been haunting me since they happened. And it isn’t fair to not include them in my story. They will be the hardest posts I have written to date, which might be surprising based on my previous content. So fasten your seat belts… I’m not sharing these stories on a whim. I rarely talk about these times in my life, but I feel it’s really important to share my experiences because so many young girls are still going through what I went through. Relationship violence and date rape are devastating young lives. It’s time to put an end to the abuse…..and it’s time for everyone to understand that actions have consequences.
I share this story to let girls everywhere know that you are strong……and you are not alone.

I like facts and statistics so let’s begin there.

You should be able to click on the photo to make it easier to read. But let’s start with the very sad statistic that 1 in 4 women have been raped or suffered attempted rape. As I struggle to write this I am going to keep that in mind. Because there are too many of you out there who this has happened to and someone needs to shed some light and open the freakin door and say THIS IS NOT OKAY!

I was 18 years old I had already been through so many tough experiences. I had suffered extreme bullying. I had been using prescription drugs as a way to control my life, and to be honest, I just didn’t care much about anything. Thankfully I was able to attend college instead of going to my senior year of high school and it was a great way to get away from the people that made my life a living hell. Let’s be honest, I was all around pretty mad at the world. So I didn’t take the precautions that I hope and pray my daughters will take when going on a date.

I dated pretty much anyone and everyone. I really didn’t care who. I just wanted to have fun and escape my problems. We were just getting into the age of meeting people online and I met and dated a few people from there. And one person I went on a date with was just a cute guy I met at a gas station. I was impulsive and loved surprising people so when he talked to me, I responded back.

I really want to highlight the fact that “25 percent of men surveyed believed that rape was acceptable if the woman asks the man out, the man pays for the date or the woman goes back to the man’s room after the date.” ALSO … 33% of guys said they would rape someone if they knew it would go undetected. WHAT THE HELL is that about?

So I went on a date with the cute guy I met at the gas station. He bought me dinner. We both liked to play video games and so I went back to his house where he had told me people would be there to play a new video game he had purchased for us. When we got there no one was home but he said they would be back anytime. “Don’t worry.” he said. He turned on the video game console and I didn’t really think much about it at first. UNTIL he asked me if he could get me a drink. I remember joking with him, “Yeah right, I’ll get my own water. Don’t want you spiking my drink. haha” Just so you know. The entire time I was at his house “waiting” for the other people to get there so we weren’t alone, my intuition/inner spirit/heavenly angels were SCREAMING at me to leave! The sirens were going off inside my head and heart and the panic started to set in. He drove on our date so I didn’t have a car, but I should have called someone to pick me up. And even though nothing had happened yet, if I HAD a car I hope beyond hope I would have mustered up the strength and courage to trust my instincts and go.

I’m going to be real with you for a second. I feel like as a society, women have been trained to be too polite, especially with the culture in Utah. I don’t know how many times I have done something just so the other person didn’t feel uncomfortable even though it made my skin crawl. I’m not sure how to overcome this problem, but it needs to start being addressed.

Anyway, that was that. My first sexual assault and attempted rape. I resisted hard enough and kicked him in enough sensitive places that he swore at me and finally let me go. And after all that he ended up driving me home as fast as his truck would go. He wouldn’t even take me all the way to my house. He told me I didn’t deserve for him to waste his gas taking me anywhere (as his squealing tires took each curve). “What did you expect you bleep bleep bleep?? I bought you dinner and everything.” And these are the words of the entire experience that I will never forget. “What did you expect? I BOUGHT YOU DINNER”

After that I called a friend of mine. He told me to go to the police. I knew that I couldn’t. I knew that I knew better than to go to his house. I knew that I should have worn something different. I knew that I should have called someone when I felt something was wrong. I knew I didn’t want to disappoint my parents. I knew that I didn’t want to be made to feel shame because he tried to rape me. Because all those things added up to this in my head: “It was my fault.” And no one could tell me different.

I tried to move on and just forget it all. I buried it like I did everything else uncomfortable in my life. Now this is the part that I am really dreading to write. Because you are probably going to be screaming at me as you read it.

A few months later I met a guy for a date. I took precautions. I thought I was being safe (as safe as an 18 year old can ever think she is being). I drove this time. He paid for dinner. And then we walked through part of downtown Salt Lake and I paid for dessert. We went to an art exhibit or something. Now if you didn’t know better you would be thinking.  “Okay. She is out of the woods. Safe”. But we all know that isn’t how this story goes. To be honest. I’m not sure of how the story goes. I can’t remember what made me go inside his house. For those that don’t know I am an avid reader. It is one of my favorite escapes. I’m pretty sure he told me he had a first edition of one of my favorite books? I’m not quite sure. I have a few lucid memories from that night after we ate dessert. But what I do know for a FACT. He put something in my drink, drugged me, and raped me. There are moments during the rape that I can recall clear as day as I type this. I can remember thinking how was this possibly happening. I can remember how it felt to have his body press so hard against mine. I remember a few of the things he said during the assault. And I’m not going to go into too much depth. My heart is already racing as it is. 

BREATHE Kristin. I said it. Do you know how difficult it is to say the word “rape” and “me” in the same sentence? Probably not. I have worked on this post for a month. I have cried a lot. And I still cry about it. Maybe that is why I have felt so awful lately. But even through my tears right now I am telling you. I need to tell these stories and I need them to be shared. I have prayed about it and prayed HARD! Would I love to pretend that all this never happened to me? Of course. But who does that help? No one. And I can guarantee you. If the numbers are correct and 1 in 4 women are victims of sexual assault then there are FAR too many women of all ages that need to hear this!! And know that yes, my road has been hard. Harder than anyone knows. And I have suffered the unthinkable. But look at me? Through it all? I have amazing parents. An amazing Husband. Beautiful Daughters and a GOOD LIFE!! So if I can overcome, you can as well. We are Daughters of our Heavenly Father who LOVES us! We are His WARRIORS here on earth! I will continue to fight the good fight. Will you join with me? 

And by the way, if a 28 year old guy asks you (a barely legal 18 year old) out on a date … RUN AWAY NOW! That guy was 28 years old working on his PhD in some type of Molecular or Chemical Biology Engineering. AND I did question at first when he asked me on a date. Why a 28 year old guy who is getting his PhD would want to date an 18 year old girl. Now I know.

I’m going to stop here for this post because I am guessing that is a lot to take in. I will post the rest tomorrow about some of the aftermath. And in that same post I’m going to tell you about “Jay”. The guy who I dated for almost 2 years after these events who actually helped me get past a lot of this. And then, (spoiler alert) when I tried to break up with him, he attempted to kill us both. And almost succeeded. Digest that for a while.

 

Please Support Rainn! The work they are doing and light they are shedding on such a difficult topic is remarkable! Their hotline is 1-800-656-HOPE. You can call in anonymously! Here are other great hotlines as well.

You are MORE than welcome to contact me! These are tough subjects. I get it. The Comments here are NOT made public. They are sent only to me.

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I Wanted to be a Lawyer

So now you know….

 

A massive transformation has been happening in my life. Next month will be the one year anniversary of THAT… you know. How can that possible? My daughter turns 8 next week. We all remember what happened when she turned 7. I know I do. But I’m ready. I’m stepping up and being present in my life.

Here is a question. How many of us feel worthy of happiness? Do you feel like you deserve the goodness life has to offer? How about success? This is something I have been thinking about a lot lately. I would have never thought I could personally be successful at anything, and yet, look at what I am doing. I have new passion, drive and a VOICE. I am not allowing myself to be the victim of my circumstance. I’m creating my own path. Even though it is rough and treacherous at times, it is also full of opportunity and promise. I am shouting to the world – NO MORE – no more huge obstacles. Just bumps in the road that I navigate and put behind me. Because it is MY choice whether the problems become mountains that are too impossible to climb. Now, they are small hills that I fight (and sometimes crawl) my way to the top just so I can enjoy the view on the way back down. reconfirming the fact it is all a CHOICE! My goodness, there are problems everywhere! Why let them consume me when there is beauty everywhere as well? There is hope, success, triumph, laughter, happiness, and JOY everywhere! But one thing I have learned on this journey. Not everyone is ready for happiness. Not everyone feels worthy of happiness. And that is okay too. We all have our own journey to traverse. Everyone is at a different point in their life and the one thing that I can give to everyone is the ability to make their choices and let them know that I understand.

So lets recap. I fell off a balcony. I got run over by a car. I almost drowned … twice. And almost got divorced … twice. I was hospitalized 5 times in 18 months. I have endured 7 surgeries. And … I died.

Then I got the opportunity most never get. To see my life for the mess that it was, pick myself up and decide to stay. To brush myself off and begin to fight for my family. To fight for mental clarity. To fight to overcome my addictions. To fight for the right to be happy.  And I have learned that even when I feel sorry for myself or I get mad and frustrated – it doesn’t change the fact that I am still a child of God. That I still have worth. That I can wake up the next day and make a different choice, brush off the past and be Present! And can do it all again the next day and the day after that. Wake up, let go of yesterday and move on.

Wow. That felt like a huge lecture of sorts. But it feels good to get out.

Back to me wanting to be an Attorney. Case in point: I like to learn. I like to read. And I LOVE to research. Which is why I probably would have made a really great Lawyer. But I’m not a Lawyer (but I still can be if I want…)

Currently I work for a company whose mission is to empower and motive women. I get to connect with people that I would have never met in 100 years. I get to influence and change lives for the better, just as much as they change mine for the better as well. When I first started working I stayed up non stop for about 30 hours reading every single bit of information I could get my hands on. My long time incurable insomnia became my friend. When something peaks my interest it gets really hard to turn my brain off. The company  has about 10 Facebook groups and so I read every post and comment in every group going back at least 6 months. I like to know things, just for the sake of knowing it. I became passionate again.

But this gets me in trouble all the time because I get caught up in the tiny minutia of the hows and the whys. Living in my brain sometimes is a complete nightmare. The technology we have today is such a massively huge blessing BUT a curse for the way my brain works. Which is why I constantly have to re-evaluate my choices and attitude. And usually make a lot of apologies. Lately I have been trying really hard to surround myself with the most positive people I can find. Because I want to be built up every single day. Spiritually, emotionally, and mentally. Without the community of positive people around me, there is no way I would be able to do my job, because you can’t lift someone up higher when you feel low yourself.

So I have a challenge for everyone. Find ONE thing you can do TODAY that will help you live in the present. I have noticed that when I am helping others – the further away my troubles go and the more present I become. The faster I forget my sorrows, the more I can remember that I am worthy of happiness. So if there is nothing at all you takeaway from this post but this:

YOU (yes, you!) are worthy of happiness!!

And no one is getting in your way from feeling that joy BUT you. SO get out of your way! Let the rays of the sun hit your face! Feel the power and joy from making your own happiness.

Acknowledge vs Acceptance

Thank you so much to all those that love me through my honest lens. This is my reality. And it isn’t pretty. It is messy and chaotic and beautiful at the same time. I am slowly learning to love and embrace my truth. I don’t ask that you say it to the world like I do, but you should acknowledge the truth within yourself. Don’t judge it, just acknowledge. You will feel better for it.

I need to come back to my basic DBT skills so I can stop hurting over things that I cannot change. I am Acknowledging that I cannot change the present moment. I am not Accepting it. So I am NOT going to judge myself for posting what I did about motherhood. That would defeat the entire purpose of learning and growing into having a more Wise and conscious Mind. I can only observe what I felt and why. And then, JUST LET IT BE.

So What exactly is Dialectical Behavioral Therapy? Here is one of the modules called Nonjudgmental Stance. I sincerely needed this refresher. If you are interested in learning more about DBT, click on the link just below, you can see all the DBT Modules and Skills. I went through actual class and therapy to learn this. And it takes practice. A LOT of Practice. But every time I practice one of my skills, I always find more peace. Even if it is just for a moment.

DBT training *Courtesy of DBT Self Help

Nonjudgmental stance is the last of the “What” skills in the Mindfulness Module of DBT.

First was Observe, in which we paid attention to ourselves, our environment, and others around us. When observing, the trick was to just notice things like, “I notice I’m thinking about the future,” or “I notice my pulse is faster when I’m talking to my mother.”

Next was Describe, in which we would put words on the things we observed. Some people described very simple things like washing the dishes or going for a walk, but found that by describing, they felt like they were better able to pay attention to the present moment.

Next was Participate, where we allowed ourselves to be completely immersed in the moment, focusing in a way that made us forget everything else.

Nonjudgmental Stance, I think, really pulls it all together. We are very conditioned to placing judgments on our observations. To use the examples above, I may notice that I’m thinking about the future, but it’s likely my next thought will be something like, “I’m not doing DBT correctly since I’m thinking about the future. Therefore I am bad or wrong or incompetent.” This is a judgment of the observation and it is not at all helpful.

The point of taking a nonjudgmental stance is to give ourselves an opportunity to observe the same old things that we always observe in our minds or in our environment or about other people, but open ourselves to thinking about it in a different way. So if I withhold my judgment about what my thought means, but simply observe it, note it and let the thought move away, I have an opportunity to treat myself more gently. Even if I still have the judgmental thought, I can observe that I had the thought, then let it go. That’s the beauty of nonjudgmental stance; all the negative garbage we’re so accustomed to telling ourselves is suddenly cut off and a gentleness takes over so that healing becomes possible.

I was recently reading the book “Writing as a Way of Healing,” by Louise DeSalvo and in it she said, “In the end, isn’t healing just another way of seeing?” When I thought about it, one reason that statement is true is because I’m backing off from taking a judgmental stance and opening myself to another way of thinking (which is where many of the other DBT skills come in – offering suggestions for alternative ways to behave/react/think about any given situation).

If you look at the second example of an observation above, “I notice my pulse is faster when I’m talking to my mother,” we can see how the nonjudgmental stance can change a potentially volatile situation into a healing moment in which I can learn something about myself. My temptation is to think, “my pulse is faster because she’s a witch and I can’t stand listening to her and now she’s yelling at me because she hates me” and so I react and yell back. This has happened to me many times.

But sometimes, in the midst of the moment, I notice my pulse and let’s say I resist making a judgment about WHY my pulse is fast or what my mother is doing. Instead I notice that the pitch in my mother’s voice is higher and I resist making the judgment about WHY her voice is higher or what it means to me. Or, if I can’t resist the judgment, I just observe it and let it go. Then I notice that my face is becoming red and that I feel the impulse to react and I force myself to simply observe and withhold judgment. And slowly, I find I’m regaining my composure, freeing myself from the prison of emotional pain. I feel less need to react. As my feelings of anger dissipate, I begin to hear the pain in her voice and I don’t judge that pain. Instead, I let her have her pain and I just listen. I don’t take it on, I merely observe. And somehow, the entire situation feels different. “Healing is just a different way of seeing.”

I am especially aware of the impact of a nonjudgmental stance when I use it on the more complex observations and descriptions of EMOTIONS! Nevertheless, I think it’s good to practice with more benign things like taking a nonjudgmental stance about my walk in the park.

I can practice by not making a judgment about the guy who just walked past me and pulled his dog in closer to him quickly and sidestepped my path. I might be tempted to think he was avoiding me because he thinks I’m ugly, dangerous or any number of things. But if I notice myself doing so and consciously make a decision not to judge my observations, I am able to practice this skill and gain some competence with it. In this way, later on, when that argument with my mother happens, I will have practiced observing and describing without judging. In so doing, I’m in a position to gain even more actual healing.

I am working on being more Mindful. I lose myself in the moment just like everyone else. I feel sad and hopeless. But every single day, I wake up and heal a little bit more. This blog is helping me heal. Your response is helping me heal. Thank you again for your support and love!

xoxo,

Kristin

 

It was Mom

Yes, I know Mother’s Day was Sunday, but I was sick and so I didn’t get a chance to write this post. And maybe it was a really good thing, because as I scrolled through my Facebook News Feed Sunday and I saw all of the posts about how thankful people were for their mothers two very distinct thoughts ran through my mind.

First, was how grateful I was for my own mother. Through all of my struggles, she has struggled right along with me. My trials have always been her trials. My pain, her pain. And I love her so much! Especially for the times when I’m NOT happy. When all I want to do is shout from the rooftops how unfair life is and OH how I shout it! How unfair it is that I have to endure so much. She hears all my complaints, all my sadness and anger and she listens to me through my tears. Only a mom could do what she has done for me.

I love you more than anything Mom! And I see YOUR struggles and YOUR pain and your happiness and joy. And the way my little girls light up both yours and Dad’s faces. That is priceless to me.

But then this other BIG thought came to me. Wow, Kristin. What a horrible mother you are!! Why does anyone deserve to celebrate you being a mother, when you are so inadequate? To be honest, I struggle with motherhood. Like REALLY struggle. I have a hard time being affectionate with my girls. I have a hard time just taking them to the park to play, or going to their school activities. I am a mom with an illness, and I have never felt more restricted by the prison of my mind than when I am trying to be a mom. Because when the anxiety or depression or polarity creeps to the surface, being a mom is the most challenging thing I face. How can I be a mother to these beautiful little people that God has entrusted me with when I can’t even take care of myself? I question it ALL the time. Why on this earth did God make me a mother? Because it was no accident. Oh heavens no.

In early 2006 Seth and I had been married for 4 hard fought years and we didn’t have any kids yet even though we had tried. All the doctors told me to never have children myself. That my body couldn’t handle it. And so Seth and I came to a standstill as a couple. We couldn’t move forward. It was just us and we both wanted so much more. To have a family. There were only two times we lived separate from each other, and the summer of 2005 was the first. We were done. There hadn’t been happy times for a very long time for either of us. So we separated and were headed for divorce. And I remember thinking. THANK goodness we didn’t have any children! That they wouldn’t have to endure the divorce with us. And then for some really strange reason, that neither Seth or I know, we gave it one more shot with each other. Literally. And I became pregnant with my beautiful daughter who will turn 8 next month.

My pregnancy was horrible. I went off all the medication the doctors warned me to NEVER stop. And my body reacted. I threw up 20-30 times a day. Hospitalized 5-6 times. And finally I was given the option of home assistance. So I had a nurse come to my house 3 times a week to stab my dehydrated body to try and find a vein so I could somehow get fluids to my weakened body. 8 hours a day I was hooked up to my IV drip and had to carry my IV pole with me every where I went. Take the dog outside, yep – there is Kristin with her IV Pole. Oh my gosh I can’t even imagine what a sight it was. We ended up moving in with my parents because I couldn’t be alone and sick that much while Seth was gone during the day for 10+ hours. Finally around 26 weeks the sickness ended and I pulled out my IV. OH what a relief!

Then something crazy happened. You know, writing this post has been more emotional than most of my others. Maybe the other posts weren’t as personal as this one. But just thinking of this moment that Seth and I had. I will never forget. It is one of the happiest memories I have of us together. We were laying on the bed just talking. I was SO excited to be free from throwing up and the horrid IV bag and I had become obsessed with eating cheese and crackers. And all of the sudden in the middle of our conversation I started laughing. Full on belly laugh and I just couldn’t stop. Then Seth started laughing. There the two of us were, just laughing together, for who knows what reason. I must have been high on hormones or something. But I remember Seth said to me “I have never seen you this way. This truly happy. And I am so glad you are getting to experience it. I guess we will just have to keep you pregnant for the rest of our lives.”

Anyway. I’m glad I got to tell that story. Because my Heavenly Father knew, He KNEW that Seth and I wouldn’t survive that summer without divine intervention. And a miracle happened that trumped all the failed fertility treatments that we had given up hope on the year before. I had another baby in 2010. I didn’t want to even have another child to be totally honest. Second round of sickness and needle pokes and IV’s and my lovely IV Pole. AND a 4 year old! Insane. And I even had one more. I have 3 beautiful little angelic girls. If you have seen them you know. You can see it in their faces. Because let me tell you, most days I don’t love anything about myself. Absolutely nothing. But somehow they do. I know I fall short. Probably every single day. But they love me through it.

Reading those posts about everyone loving their mother’s, I just have to wonder. My kids are young, and they don’t see the whole reality of what I deal with and why. And my guess is that they will come to resent me for what I can’t do. For the missed opportunities, for the joyful moments lost. For the disappointments at not seeing me at Kindergarten Graduation or Science Fairs. Falling short. For not being able to bake cookies with them because I am scared of the germs. For not wanting them to play outside because dirt makes me uneasy. Restrictions. Thankfully they have a great dad. Who takes them to the park every Friday. Who makes cookies with them. Who plays with them in our backyard. Who is there when they need him. Maybe one day that will be me. I hope so.

I know that I am meant to be a Mother. I just don’t know when I will be able to be the mother that I want to be. Mother’s day is not a good day for me. And I’m sure you have read it in this post. I’ll figure it out one day. That maybe it is okay for me to be ‘this’ type of mother?

Just so this post isn’t a huge bummer. If you haven’t had a chance to watch this video. Please do! It made me happy and sad crying at the same time!

xoxo,

Kristin

 

Drowning

Have any of you experienced a time when you were unable to breathe? Literally one of the worst sensations you can ever feel. I have had a rough couple of weeks and haven’t really felt like reflecting on life or really anything, until I saw this picture on Facebook.

When I was 7 or 8 I was with my family at a place called Surf and Swim. It has a really amazing tide pool and we would go there all the time as a family. I remember swimming there 3 times a week during the summer, playing racquetball, and eating some of the best tasting french fries (chips?) that I have ever had to this day. But I think pretty much all food tastes amazing after you have been swimming for hours. One of the times, we were at Surf and Swim in the tide pool just riding the waves without a tube. My dad was close by me as we jumped in and out of the waves. I didn’t time one of the waves right to jump over it and it pushed me under the water to the bottom of the pool. I knew how to swim, but my foot got caught in a suction drain and it wouldn’t let me break free to get to the surface. It was one of the most frightening times of my life. I was frantic and flailing trying to free myself and finally had to breathe, taking in water instead of air. Right as that happened a firm arm grasped me and pulled me to the surface, freeing my foot from the drain. Even though the pool had many lifeguards, none of them had seen me go under and not come up. But my Dad had, and he caught me just in time. In reality I was under probably only 20-30 seconds, but when you are literally stuck underwater and can’t break the surface, it feels like an eternity. Just thinking about the event right now makes chills run down my spine.

After my Dad pulled me up I remember him smiling and saying “Hey, you okay? We lost you there for a minute.” But I know it was his way to try and calm me down (and probably him as well), because we had both been frantic. Me underwater fighting to come up, and him above searching to try and find me. Not really been much of a fan of swimming pools, lakes, or oceans since.

Fast forward 6 years. My sister and I had just come home from a youth activity and we were both starving because it had been such a busy day and we hadn’t had time to eat. We sat down in the barstools at the counter and dug into our Sloppy Joes (what a horrible name for a sandwich by the way). I found myself scarfing down the food, not chewing enough and a piece of my Sloppy Joe went down “the wrong pipe” and I choked. OF course, of all things I end up choking on something called a ‘sloppy joe’. I remember trying to cough really hard trying to get it to come up and I grabbed my sisters arm trying to let her know I was in distress. But she thought I was being a pesky sister by getting her white shirt dirty with the sloppy part of the joe, and to be candid, I WAS a pesky sister most of the time.

Anyway, within seconds I threw myself away from the counter, throwing the barstool to the ground at the same time, which caught everyones attention. I was grabbing at my throat unable to talk or breathe. My mom started screaming for my dad and he came running in. Without even thinking he immediately started the Heimlich Maneuver, and on his second attempt the food dislodged and I began gasping in air. Breathing never felt so good! And just so you know, my Mom makes amazing Sloppy Joes from scratch, and I have eaten them since! Food for thought, if a cat has 9 lives, how many must I have? Hmmmmm. Good question! 🙂

Is it interesting to anyone else that in both of those experiences my dad was the one to save me? I’ll reflect on that more later.

Both of these stories involve the physical side of not being able to breathe (and more of my lovely near death experiences). But what happens when we find ourselves fighting to stay above water in the deep end of life completely unable to catch our breath? Can they be just as “near death”?

I just realized that I am really tired. Being up at 4am will do that to a person. So I will answer that question and more tomorrow! Stay tuned.

 

 

 

Growing Pains

I always wondered what it would be like to be one of “those people” who always talk about how much they loved high school. And how they would love to relive it again. Are you kidding me? Seriously? High School is one of the most traumatizing events of a persons life. It was for me anyway. I’m not sure my theory of the connection between brain injury and hormones can be validated with science, but for me, that is when everything fell apart.

Being a 13 year old is such an awkward age. You are trying to find your identity. But really you get lost in what others think of you. And if what they think is either good or bad, then that must be who you are. Well, at least that was the case for me. Turning 13 was a game changer. I fell in with the popular crowd somehow, but I was always an outsider. This story is really painful, and I don’t know how to retell it at all. I’m not even sure there are words to describe it. But here it is, I did something impulsive, something not in line with who I was. I said something mean about a boy to one of my friends, and somehow word got back to him. And then that boy decided to make my life a living hell. To be honest, I am still afraid of running into him to this day. I was bullied to a point that I was scared to go to school. And it continued from Junior High well into High School. I never understood how that one thing that I said, one thing, could make such an impact on his life that he could take it out on me for years. How do you hold on to the hate for so long?

He decided to give me a name, an ugly one that I won’t repeat. Every where I would go, in the halls, when I walked into a class, he would yell or say this name. And everyone knew that it was meant for me, and they would all laugh. Because he was the most popular boy in school, and they just wanted to fit in. Just like I did. To be honest, they were probably just grateful that it wasn’t them. I wished I was invisible. I wished I would just die, and I came up with scenario after scenario of different ways that I could make it happen. Not a day went by that I didn’t hear that name being called. It finally died down my junior year of high school. I guess the novelty of it wore off. But the damage was done.

I became obsessed. Obsessed with my weight, how I looked each day, what I wore. My OCD swept into high gear. There would be days that I couldn’t get my hair to look perfect, so I would get in the shower and do it all again, and again. I couldn’t leave the house until it was perfect. I remember forgetting my earrings one day and I went in to full meltdown mode. I drove myself home in the middle of school -who cares that I missed biology- I just had to get my earrings so the anxiety would subside.

My parents recognized that I changed. That they didn’t know who I was anymore. We went to therapy. It helped for a while. I was prescribed my first depression and anxiety medication. I was just 16. Now we are treading into scary territory for me. You would think with all the things I had talked about in this blog, that being honest about all this wouldn’t be a problem. But this still hurts. So, since I couldn’t figure out how to to take my life, I found another way to relieve the pain, by inflicting it upon myself. I mean, didn’t I deserve it? I was the one who started it right? I called the boy a name and so it was all my fault. I deserved the pain. I began something that people call cutting. It actually started by accident. I cut myself shaving my legs and the pain took over and stopped all my racing thoughts. So it became part of my life. The scars are still there, and the cutting only stopped a short time ago. Any time I have a high amount of stress in my life, unfortunately I am always drawn back to it.

The perfectionist in me needed to be in control. And in addition to cutting, food took center stage. Portion control, starving myself. Then one day, full on bulimia. That part didn’t actually start until I was in my 20’s. And this will be news to almost everyone except my husband – that I suffered with bulimia on and off for 7 years. Now, I want to address this right. These are hard things. So here is a little bit of information.

From a noted Psychologist, “We can go to any school and ask, ‘Do you know anyone who cuts?’ Yeah, everybody knows someone, and very often, kids who self-harm have an eating disorder. Many are sensitive, perfectionists, overachievers. The self-injury begins as a defense against what’s going on in their lives. They have failed in one area of their lives, so this is a way to get control.”

“Self-injury can also be a symptom for psychiatric problems like borderline personality disorder (sound familiar?) anxiety disorder, bipolar or schizophrenia. Yet many kids who self-injure are simply ‘regular kids’ going through the adolescent struggle for self-identity. They’re experimenting. I hate to call it a phase, because I don’t want to minimize it. It’s kind of like kids who start using drugs, doing dangerous things.”

I am pleading with you! If you know someone who is starting down this path. If you are recognizing even the littlest of signs. Don’t ignore it. Get them proper help! This has ramifications far beyond the teenage years.1-800-273-TALK is a really great resource available 24 hours a day. All I know is that I wanted to find someone that understood. If you aren’t that person, figure out a way to become it. Get educated and arm yourself with knowledge, compassion and love. And if you are the person who this describe please know, You are NOT alone. We understand, and there is help for you!

A Little Break

Wow, that was a lot of hard stuff to cover in 10 days. Thank you for taking the journey with me. I know I have so many more stories to tell. What is surprising to me is that Seth has encouraged me this entire way. I thought he wouldn’t. To allow me to publicly, in front of the world, tell our story is very brave of him. I’ve always told my stories, never hidden from my truths. These are not easy subjects I am addressing. But I am addressing them honestly, because I would hate to misrepresent or distort my life to make it seem like something it is not. And … because I know I would get called out for it by A. My husband or B. My Parents. I am so thankful for their support over these extremely hard 12 years.

For those that have someone in their life that is lost or suffering and wants to give up I am pleading with you -please- let them read the things I have written over the last 10 days. I can’t tell you how often I felt misunderstood. Basically every waking moment of my life. That no one else in the world was experiencing the horrible things I was. And I have so much more to cover. Eating Disorders, DBT Therapy, Being bullied, Peer Pressure, Substance Abuse, just to name a few. And so many more come to mind. These are all really hard and intense subjects. But someone needs to talk about them openly, in the most honest and caring way possible.

What I want to impart most of all, in this break between emotionally difficult stories is this: I LOVE myself. I have never been able to say that ever before. And I can’t help but cry every time I say it out loud. Do you love yourself? Can you tell that to yourself honestly? Do you give yourself a break, like you give others? Or do you hold yourself to such an impossible standard that not even the best of us in the world could achieve? I am not the best mom or wife or daughter or friend. I struggle with body image issues and feeling insecure just like everyone else. BUT. I love myself. Every single time I say those words, it resinates deep within the valleys of my heart. I feel it. I enjoy it. And I let it be part of me. The more I say it, the more I know that it has become part of my truth. Love, compassion, kindness. Those aren’t things we do just for others. We need to do them for ourselves as well.

Because of DBT I pay close attention to how words, thoughts, feelings, and how my environment makes me feel. And of those things I try to make a conscience choice to let it affect me either positively or negatively. Do I let it change my course? Not much takes me off track anymore. There is a steadiness to my intentions and actions. I have known for a very long time the Spirit inside me didn’t match the sorrow and defeat that my outside image portrayed. And now, my Spirit is finally soaring free. And it is more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.

The Longest 6 Months

So once I decided to fight it took everything in me, every ounce of courage, strength, patience, and love. I fought hard for myself during that time as well. I got into a therapy program called DBT. OH My Goodness! Everyone needs DBT in their life! It stands for Dialectical Behavior Therapy. Please. Google IT.

You don’t have to have every symptom on that list to experience the therapeutic benefits of DBT! I finally found a way to be compassionate. TO myself. To forgive myself. To let go of the never-ending shame. Once I let go of the shame  I was finally Free! I immersed myself as far as I could go into the world of DBT. I’m a person that likes to learn everything there is to know about something that interests me. I don’t sleep much. So the time that I am awake I study, I research, and I learn. I graduated my DBT program in February. Four months ahead of schedule. Much earlier than anticipated. But what can I say. My life was in order, and I was finally in “remission”. In my DBT group right before I left, I shared my story. Of how I got where I was. It gave them hope. I was finally able to repay the gift I had been given, and pay it forward to so many others. There is always hope, even in the darkest of places. Keep living because you never know when the light will shine – it’s just around the corner.

While I was attending DBT I learned to focus on my family instead of myself. This is kind of funny, but I learned to play on the Playstation I bought Seth. We played Black Ops II a lot with his brothers online. Even though he wouldn’t admit it, he was impressed! I had never shown any interest in what was important to him, but for some reason everything he did I wanted to be there. To be honest I couldn’t keep myself away. I was like a newlywed again and he was my drug of choice. 🙂  I let go of myself and started to see everything I had missed while I was so preoccupied with my misery. There is so much more to that story, but I want to share the amazing part first.

December happened. Holidays are really difficult for me. Birthdays, Christmas, I have no idea why. But I reached a turning point Christmas Eve. When I told my therapist the story she shed tears of joy. She said, “Do you know what you have done??” that on that Christmas Eve, when I woke that morning on Christmas day, it was a rebirth of sorts. The symbolism of being reborn on Christmas is not lost on me. I did something that day that was uncomfortable and that I had never done before. To everyone else it might seem so simple. But for me it was the struggle of my life. Seth and I fought Christmas Eve, like normal. We were still separated and split time with the kids and we couldn’t agree on the schedule. We argued, I got mad enough to sleep in another room and I KNEW. I knew it was going to be like every other Christmas. I would be upset, smile when I needed to smile. Put on the mask of pretend happiness and joy while I was crumbling inside. But not this time. I prayed. Really hard. I am not an early riser, but on that day I woke up just before 6am. No one was awake yet. I took 10 steps to the room where Seth was sleeping. I laid next to him, and just held him. And he turned and held me back. I have always let my emotions run my life, and I finally told my emotions to get out of the way, and I made my choice. To live to be happy that day. With true happiness, no masks. It was a really great day. I wish you could have been there. We often sing songs of Peace around that holiday and I was truly blessed with a type of peace I had never known.

There were still struggles of course. I constantly told Seth I loved him and he could never say it back. It was so painful. He didn’t know if he loved me. He didn’t want to say something that would give me hope. But January changed all of that. Something happened in the weeks right before the 22nd of January that brought us closer together. I’m not quite sure what it is still. But it changed us, it prepared us for what was to come. Finally the day. Please understand this and the significance. SIX months to the day my life changed forever.

Seth told me he loved me. Did you hear that?? It had been almost a year since I heard those words. “Where have you been all this time Kristin? It doesn’t matter what you are talking about, I just love to listen to the passion in your voice. I could listen to it all day long. Kristin, you are the person I met 12 years ago and I can’t tell you how excited I am to see her again. You are absolutely amazing.”    UMMMM WHOA!!

Do you get the Lash Therapy part yet? I have been in some sort of therapy all my life. DBT was a miracle, but so was joining Younique. Being part of this company is some of the best therapy I have ever had. The women I work with welcomed me with open arms and they are phenomenal. They appreciate my contributions. I immediately made five new amazing friends. I have struggled all my life to have relationships. But these girls don’t judge. They want to help me succeed. To put positivity at the forefront of my life. I decided to give myself a challenge of 30 days. 30 days to see if working in this business would do anything for me. Why not take the chance, right? So I dug deep! I put everything I had into building, reaching out, letting my introvert self fade away. In those 30 days I did 2 trade shows, I added 4 people to my team, and I advanced 4 levels in the company in record time. And I made money. Good money! It was amazing. I now have my own team of 30. We are in five states already. And do you know what? I feel I have already won. I already achieved what I wanted. I got Seth back. And I give a lot to my team. I am empowering them with tools to find success on their terms. We are supportive, helpful and kind and I would absolutely do anything to help them succeed and they know it! They need Younique therapy just like I did — thus “The Lash Therapist”

Then there is this: Seth and I are better than we have been in 11 years. We talk every day about the plan for the days and weeks to come. It is the most amazing thing I have ever experienced. There is happiness and joy in my home every single day! If you read my Facebook wall you will see it as well! I can’t help it! I needed to write this blog so you can see, Look at what is possible? Do you understand? If you don’t, I will show you more!  

It was late when I posted this. But I needed to get it out. I will edit later! Thanks to everyone who read this LONG post!! Thank you to my readers! I don’t know who you are, but thanks for reading my stories. This is the most honest thing I have ever done. And the more I write, the more it heals me.

Loving through Pain

I am going to have to work hard if I want to get my blog current. There is just so much great information to cover and I don’t want to leave anything out. And thanks everyone!! I can’t be more excited. My blog is almost to 2000 views!!! It has been seen in 4 countries. This is so amazing and unexpected! I am extremely humbled. I really hope it is helping people.

What happened next is another phenomenal miracle in my life. It is still happening to this very day. I don’t feel the pain, anxiety, depression, or suicidal thoughts anymore. He took the darkness away. I feel extreme happiness. I guess dying will do that to a person. What a great gift God decided to give me. Because without it, I would not be here. And there is a VERY big reason I am still living. And you will get to see it play out. Maybe one of the reasons I am here is to write these very words. Who knows?

After the 22nd, I have talked about how my life changed. My love for Seth and my family changed. My love for myself changed. But Seth understandably wouldn’t let me in. At all. It hurt. It was one of the most painful things I have ever experienced. I had finally found myself, and was becoming the woman I had always wanted to be -that HE wanted me to be- and he didn’t want anything to do with it. With me. And I was pretty convinced that would never change. The divorce was still going forward.

I had a friend who decided she wanted to go on a vacation to Los Angeles and asked me to come along. At the time, even though my joy was bursting out of every cell in my body, it made no difference to Seth. So I took her up on the offer. I told my parents I was going on a vacation and they thought it was a good idea as well. I had been through so much, and a vacation might take my mind off things for a while. I was still living away from home with my roommate and I packed my bags. But I felt sick inside. Regret, darkness, fear. I pushed those feeling aside because Seth and my parents told me that getting away might be good for me. So it had to be, right? It was an impulsive decision. I came to my home to say goodbye to my girls, and something inside me knew. If I left for L.A., I might never come back. Something there would change me forever. That opportunity to spend some time with my girls Seth decided to take them swimming so it didn’t have much time with them to say goodbye. I was angry. He knew I needed to spend some time with them before I left. And the anger grew. It was first time since “The Day” that I felt that much negative emotion. I do regret that day, but I know what I was fighting for I NEEDED this time with my girls. I knew why I was so hurt and mad. If I left I wouldn’t come back, possibly ever. And this was my only chance to hug them, kiss them, hold them for the last time.

After the BIG fight, I got in my car and left. I drove to Mesa where my friend lived, but instead of going to her house, I somehow ended up in the Mesa Temple parking lot. I had never been there before, and I have no idea how I got there. I was just driving and there it was on the right hand side. So I parked, and let the feelings wash over me. My friend was anxious to leave. Her boyfriend had just committed suicide the week before. She was losing custody of her kids. She needed to get away. But every time I thought of leaving, darkness overtook my mind. I could barely think. I sat there for hours. And then I finally made a choice. The choice. I was scared to upset my friend, but I finally called her and told her I couldn’t go. And she was mad, really mad. But it was the right thing to do and I finally felt peace.

My dad called just after I made the decision. I can’t believe how much he and I felt the same things. I mean we were 12 hours away from each other. He didn’t know all the details and drama in my life, other than what I told him on the phone. But he somehow KNEW. He asked where I was. He told me to go back home, that he had been thinking all day and felt sick about me leaving. I told him I was already on my way home. He told me to stay and fight for my family. I told him that I was. He told me to move back home and fight, that it was time to stick it out, stay there no matter what. I told him that I was already setting that plan in motion. It would be hard to love someone who didn’t want to be loved anymore. Who was so hurt he couldn’t even function in his life. But I would love him through his pain. No matter how long it took.

I went home. Obviously there were bad feelings from earlier in the day from our argument. I flat out told him that I was done living apart. I was going to come home whether he wanted me to or not. That I was ready to fight for him, and I wasn’t going to walk away anymore. I was staying for good.

I gathered my things from my roommates house while she was gone to work the next day and I never came back. I know I didn’t get the chance to pack everything that was mine, but I had to get home fast. I could buy new things and nothing was going to get in my way because  I was going home. To FIGHT  – with love and compassion. With allowing him time to heal. By showing him what I knew I was becoming. I stayed. And I fought. Nothing ever felt as good as that decision I made that day. Peace and relief washed over me again and has never left. But the decision to stay would prove to be difficult. It was a choice I had to make over and over again every single day. It took a long time, but not as long as I thought. One day, he broke down and let me in. Six months to the day after I died. Coincidence? I don’t believe in them…and you shouldn’t either.

Going Home

The last few days have been really rough. Just regular life stuff, but really hard nonetheless. Birthdays have never been my thing. I keep thinking that it is not the right time to write this part of the story, but maybe it is the BEST time. Because it will help give me some perspective. To not let the regular life stuff trip me up and question my purpose here.

 

Okay, so now we all know about July 22nd. Where do I begin with the aftermath? I guess for starters you should know that I never should have survived (which seems to be a running theme in all these stories and my life). In my mind the phone ringing and the text messages finally stopped and peace enveloped and embraced me. I absolutely know some things I experienced are never meant to be shared, even with my closest family. Want to know why? Because even though I can see them, there are no words on this planet to describe what I saw. I do however remember the feelings. The first and foremost was a complete sense of calm and peace, of just feeling right with the world. I felt the warmth and welcoming. Complete acceptance, no judgments. Just that feeling that you are finally where you are supposed to be. Home. I felt my Heavenly Father’s embrace. His love. His complete understanding. It fills my heart right now just thinking about it. I wanted those feelings to last forever, anyone who experienced them would. But of course they were fleeting, because the very next thing I knew I felt a very strong hand push me back. Of everything I experienced during that time, it is the clearest of all because it was so jarring. It was definitely a hand that pushed me back, propelling me forward.

I woke up in a cold shower. My roommate had found me and was trying to get me to come back. It has to be like what a baby feels like when it is born. All warm and safe, then suddenly ripped from the quiet and peaceful enclosure to be thrust in to a world of bright lights, loud noises, and unfamiliar surroundings. Things progressed quickly from there.

That day changed me. Wouldn’t you be changed? Since that experience time has changed as well. Days feel like weeks. Weeks feel like months. It has been very confusing at times. Here is an example. I ordered a package that said would take a week to arrive. I wake up in the morning, and I get upset when I check my mailbox. Why hasn’t the package gotten here yet? It is taking forever. Then I look back through my emails. I had just ordered it the day before, actually just the night before. Of course it isn’t here yet. But things like that happen almost every single day. It’s weird to say the least. But I know there is a reason for it. Can you imagine experiencing all the things I have in my life? And you as a reader know only a tiny fraction of them. How long would it take for you to recover from those awful, painful, traumatic events? Months, Years? It took me a week. Because those 7 days felt like 7 months. And every month that has passed since that time has felt like a year. Think I’m crazy? Ask the people I live with. They know.

It was an immediate transformation. I talked to my Dad a lot after that day. My Grandfather had died earlier that year and he was still grieving the loss. We all were. My dad and I needed each other. We would talk every single day after The Event. It was interesting because he would start to say the same things as I felt. “Wow Kristin, you have come so far in just the last few weeks, I can’t even believe how much you have changed!” “But Dad, it has only been two days. It’s the 24th.” “You have got to be kidding me. It feels like a lifetime ago.” And in my mind it was. But that wasn’t the case for everyone in my life.

I have never, ever in my life seen my husband lose himself the way he did on That Day. In fact, I think I have only seen him cry twice in 11 years. He never loses his composure. But he did that day. And in the months following, when I had nothing else to hold on to, when he was a thousand miles away even though we were sitting in the same room. I would remember his words on my voicemail. Him pleading and crying for me to stay. “Please Kristin, do NOT do this, we NEED you!”

But he has no idea how much he truly needs me. He probably still doesn’t. But I do. I’ve seen it.

The Light

When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person that walked in. That is what the storm is all about. -Haruki Murakami

I have debated back and forth with myself about how much to tell of this part of my story. I talked to my husband and he said that I needed to tell it. Be honest. This is what created who I am now. So we are going to back track at bit. This is THE story. The story that changed everything. So I’m just going to start writing and see where it takes me and it may take me a few posts to get through it all–

July 21st was a really rough day. But almost every day after I was released from the hospital and was living away from my family was rough. I have been looking through my journal entries for July and I hope that you won’t mind if I share a little from it. That way maybe I can get where I need to go with this story. Because I think you will better understand my state of mind leading up to the 22nd. The day that changed everything.

Journal Entry: 7/11/13 – “I still love Seth very much, but I believe that the only reason we met was so that we could create my beautiful little girls. They are the best of me, the best thing I have ever given the world. They are THE only good thing I have ever done. And in deciding to get divorced I almost feel like a huge weight and burden has been lifted from my shoulders. Can my true life really start? Can I decide to be who I want now? No one will have to know how messed up I was. I don’t have to tell the new people I meet. I finally feel like a have a new greater purpose other then just being the person who screws up everyone and everything. And my girls will be so much better off seeing me a few times a week when I can be at my best for that short time, than every single day a complete and horrible wreck of a mother. I definitely feel sad and I know this sadness won’t ever leave. But I will make myself be the best mother I can be for now, because that is what my girls need and deserve. I may have only a little time with them each week, but I will make the most of it. I know that I have relied on others for far too long for confirmation of who I am and what I am supposed to accomplish here in this life. Today I actually feel a little bit of confidence in myself. Instead of getting feedback from the world or my friends or family, I actually feel a sense of peace in who I really am, deep down inside.”

That journal entry was during my stay at the hospital and was one of the only entries up until after July 22nd that felt positive. That I was moving forward. But the weight built up. I was alone, living with someone I didn’t know. She was kind and compassionate. She helped me try to deal with the loss. But I felt this need to still fix everything. There was no way it could end like this. I became obsessed. I called Seth a million times. He was as cold as ice. He had completely shut down. That was the only way he could deal. I tried over and over to break the walls he had built. He wouldn’t even talk to his own family. He didn’t talk to anyone. Ice Cold. Finally, I hit rock bottom. I lost myself. I felt I would never be good enough to be around my children anymore. Why would they even want me in their life? Seth would barely speak to me. Walking in the home we had lived in for years felt like an out of body experience. I would see my kids, but I was detached. I had to be. I could barely see them without breaking down. I saw my future. Them growing up with me on the periphery of their lives. Why would I even allow myself to be around them with all the chaos I had caused? But here is the thing. And it took a while to understand. This was NOT my fault. I had tried over and over. So many medications, so many awful side effects. So many different therapists. I tried SO hard. I fought to to get better all the time. I would get a few months at a time where things weren’t a fight in my head to control the madness. But it never lasted.

I decided one day, that I had enough. I couldn’t deal with the pain anymore. Everyone would be so much better off without me. I was losing my kids. I had already lost my husband and I couldn’t live with it. Not one more day.

I took my life that day. I won’t tell you how. But I left. Without a doubt. I was texting my Dad and Seth leading up until the moments when I was gone, they are still saved on my phone. They were pleading with me, crying out for me to stay. I couldn’t. I had chosen my path. I knew I couldn’t live without my family. July 22, 2013. The day I died.

Hospitals and Divorce

People always tell me I’m a bit too honest, and they are right. Hopefully you can appreciate that side of me, because to be perfectly honest, I think we could all use a lot more of it in our lives. Let’s dive back in-

In March of 2013 I was in my 4th hospital stay. My family and I were 13 months in to the hardest time we had ever experienced, which is saying a lot for my life. Both of us were exhausted and we didn’t have much hope that there would ever be answers. Let me clarify something first (and I will do a different blog post about this) I have always been diagnosed with a Mental Illness. I suffered with severe depression and anxiety since I was 15 years old and from that time until now I have tried over 100 medications to help alleviate the symptoms. With a Traumatic Brain Injury, metal illness is very common. After I had my babies, my normal ‘mental illness’ state was magnified 10 times because it was compounded with the hormonal imbalance that caused my severe postpartum depression.

So back to March. I couldn’t take the strain I was causing my family. I could see the most stoic, calm, confident husband start to crumble under the pressure. He was in his 2nd year of Pharmacy School and he was in the middle of one of the hardest quarters of his entire grad school experience. The divorce talks started. I fell apart. I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t have been given a more ‘normal’ life experience. And just so you know, normal doesn’t exist. It is such a facade. Please don’t ever compare yourself to someone else’s normal. Constantly comparing yourself to the others in this world will place you in a state of captivity and you are the one who builds the jail. My personal prison was 100 miles thick. But there are ways to break the prison walls down, and hopefully I can teach you how at some point. It takes a lot of practice, patience and compassion – yes, for others – but mostly for yourself.

Anyway, I pulled myself together enough to get released from the hospital. I felt a bit better. I organized a clothing drive because people would come into the hospital with nothing, just the clothes on their backs. They would be given paper clothes to wear and it was completely degrading, especially for the women. Midwestern University and my neighborhood rallied together. I ended up washing at least 20 loads of laundry of donated clothes and taking them to the hospital. Needless to say the hospital workers were shocked, and grateful.

That was a moment of clarity in my endless storm, but it was just masking the underlying symptoms that I tried to keep at bay. I was still depressed. I still had big problems. I had a hysterectomy in December 2012 from complications (will be another post) and we still hadn’t figured out the right hormone balance. Finally, June 27th I cracked. Worse than I ever have in my life. It was my oldest daughters 7th birthday. I couldn’t get out of bed to help celebrate it, all the medication I had been given over the hospitalizations made me lethargic, apathetic, basically I just didn’t have the energy to care anymore. But not being able to care enough to celebrate her birthday ruined me inside. I saw the last 7 years of my life as a complete failure with no hope in sight. I won’t go into detail of what transpired, because that is not what my blog is about. But that is how I ended up in my 5th and final hospital.

Knowing that my future with my husband would be centered around our impending divorce, I decided I had to pull myself together and try to get better for my kids. I knew my marriage couldn’t be saved, but I had to try to find a way to become the mother I had always wished, wanted and prayed that I could be. I told every person at the hospital that I was planning on staying there until I actually felt better. Truly better, no temporary band-aids. I worked hard. I went to all my groups. I tested out more medications. While I was in the hospital my husband came to visit. We had a very civil conversation about how the divorce would go, who would end up with the kids, where we would live, how to divide our assets and debts. It was the calmest conversation we had ever had. We had decided the best thing was for me to not come back home, that I needed to find a temporary place to live while we worked out the divorce details.

I was finally released after almost 4 weeks. I felt better. I felt I had finally planted my feet on solid ground. The medication was helping and I found a place to stay with someone who needed a roommate. But my heart would ache every single day, longing for the love lost after 11 years of marriage. Knowing that what tore us apart was something we both admitted was out of our control. My illness was making everyone miserable, and we had kids to think about. In our days apart thoughts would fill my mind. My future would be filled with scheduling my visits with my kids around my husband and his potential new wife and family. I would never remarry because I would never place the burden of my illness on another person again. I knew that I would have to live with the feelings of loneliness for the rest of my life. Talk about renewed depression!

Then, the day of all days happened. The events of this day I will NEVER forget. July 22, 2013

Life is Messy

My blog will not be in order of events in my life. That is too complicated for me, and that is not how my brain thinks. And I think you need to to hear this story. This is the story is how I got here.

Two years ago I had my very last child. She is amazing and smart just like my other two girls. I have complicated pregnancies. I was actually told by my doctors never to have children. It was too dangerous. I need to take medication from my injuries and I have to completely stop taking everything in order to have a healthy baby. And my body suffers because of it. After she was born I experienced Postpartum Depression, just like I had with my other girls. But this time it was different. I later learned that if you experience postpartum depression with your first child, after each subsequent birth, the depression will last longer. And that held true for me. The first baby, 4 months of it. The second 8 months. And the third, 18 months.

It created a hell like I have never known. My parents made at least 6 trips 12 hours away from their home to help me care for my babies. My neighborhood tried to help out, but they didn’t understand the severity. No one did. But I knew. I knew everything in my body felt wrong and out of place. I saw doctor after doctor, and no one could find an answer to make it stop. Until I met a Naturopathic Doctor. All the doctors before said my hormones were in the ‘normal’ range. But until you have a saliva test on a certain day of the month, you will never truly know what range your hormones are actually in. She prescribed Amour Thyroid medication, and Progesterone. WOW the feeling. The cloud lifted for a time.

But the other medication I had relied on for so many years quit working. This may be uncomfortable for me to talk about, but it is part of my story. During the depression I wanted to die, and I made multiple attempts. I was placed in Psychiatric Hospitals after psychiatric hospitals. I was hospitalized 5 times in 18 months. My longest stay lasting almost a month. No one could help. And FYI, don’t think psychiatric hospitals just contain padded rooms with restraints. They are different, and locked down, but probably very different than you can imagine. Not quite ‘GIRL, INTERRUPTED’, but some came close.

10 days after I was released from my final hospital stay, I was placed in an Intensive Outpatient Program. I was in a Mindfulness class and the therapist said something that would forever change my world. What would finally make me well. Apparently I had been misdiagnosed for all those years. She finally asked, “Kristin, have you ever been diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder?” What? Why would she ask me that? I thought it was something like a Split Personality. No way did I have something that severe. Then while in the class I Googled it. Wikipedia is amazing. As I read the symptoms I started counting. I had 33 of the 35 symptoms. Oh my.

When I told my other therapist that I thought I had this ‘borderline personality thing’ she said that she had known for some time, but wanted to get my resources lined up before we talked about it. My goodness it was a light shedding moment and she waited to tell me??? I can’t describe the emotions I felt. Anger, frustration, but relief as well.

I took 5 months of fighting, advocating for myself to get in to a program that not only could treat my disorder, but could send it in to remission. WHAT, remission? Isn’t that something for just cancer patients? But in a way, I learned I had an emotional cancer. The cancer that made me impulsive, prone to inappropriate outbursts, experiencing such highs and lows in life that made it a living hell for people living around me. Specifically my husband. What a patient man. I know without a doubt there is no other person that would have put up with what he did, and he knows it too. He is a strong man. His ability to remain calm throughout my storms is something I will never understand. I wouldn’t have done it. Stayed with the crazy one. But he did, until one day he had enough. And I understand why.

Also, did you know that Amanda Bynes has Schizophrenia among other disorders. Don’t be too quick to judge nowadays. Mental Illness is more prevalent than you think!!

Riding in Cars

Just two months later. We were driving in a loaned vehicle while our family car was being worked on in a shop. Again this is early 1980’s, people – no carseats with 5 strap harnesses – (although my mom DID make sure we had carseats) but we were going for such a short drive, that they weren’t transferred to the loaned car. We were taking my sister to dance practice. (What is it with the relationships between dance and my accidents??). We were driving along the main street in our town and I think we were making a left turn. The car we were riding in was a type of roadster with really heavy doors. I’m not sure if it didn’t shut tight enough, or I was being the daredevil I was and played with the handle. Who knows. What I do know is that while we were driving I fell out the passenger side of the door. The car behind us was following really close and didn’t see me fall. She ran over my back and my newly brain injured skull. I have pictures of my back (hopefully I can add them to this post soon). I had bruises up my spine kind of in the shape of her tire tread. Another trip to the Childrens Hospital. They thought I was there because I was having complications from the balcony fall. When they learned this was a new accident, and the nature of it, there was shock, disbelief and I’m sure, a loss of hope.

How can someone recover from that much trauma? Just to be clear I believe in a  Heavenly Father, I believe in Angels, I believe in Miracles. I am a living, breathing one myself. And I 1000% believe that I was being watched over through each of these traumatic events and more to come. What’s interesting is that used to have dreams all the time when I was younger about these accidents. That when I fell from the balcony someone below would catch me every time. My other dream was that as I lay on the cold asphalt of the road, just before I was run over, someone laid across my back and protected me from the weight of the car. I had these dreams often enough that they became reality to me.

After both of these accidents my Dad and other Uncles, Grandpas, and Friends laid their hands upon my head, using their Priesthood Power, and my Dad commanded me to get well. Commanded me to come back. And I did. 20 years later my story is still told. We have run into the doctors and nurses that cared for me and that all shake their heads in disbelief. I am 33 years old on Wednesday. I have survived. My life is not very pretty, and I’ve knocked on deaths door many times since those accidents, but I am still here. Still surviving. Still living.

SO where does this whole “Lash Therapy” thing fit it? Oh, you’ll see. And you probably won’t believe how ‘lashes’ can change the course of ones life.

Lets Start Here…

Let me just preface this post by saying how much I love my life right now. That is a very Bold statement coming from me. I haven’t liked much about myself, the way I lived, the way I treated others, for a very long time. But now there are quiet moments in my thoughts, there is peace in my heart. This. Is. HUGE! And you will get to read why.

Let’s just get some of the crazy out there right in the beginning. I like to jump in the deep end lately, or maybe always.

I have been told this story many times, and I hope to get most of the facts straight. If not, I’m sure my mom will set me straight just after she reads this. The reason I was told this story was because I was two years old when it happened. I currently have a little two year old girl, and cannot even imagine the horrific nature of these accidents and how they would affect me as a mother. I know just how hard it is to be a parent and my heart feels so much pain for my mom and what she must have suffered seeing her child placed in these situations.

So, it was summer. I was a very adventurous 2 year old with a penchant for pushing the boundaries. We were at a dance competition for my older sister. We were up on the second floor getting her ready, when I decided to be “adventurous”. The second floor had a balcony where you can see to the floor below. This was the early 1980’s and along the walkway, there were only two bars separating the people up top on the balcony to the floor below. In just seconds, people started screaming out that someone had fallen over the edge, a 15 foot fall onto concrete. So I fell. Landed on my head and fractured my skull. I’m not sure what happened after that. I know in one of these accidents I was life-flighted to Primary Childrens Hospital. That my stay in the hospital was relatively short. And that every doctor and nurse proclaimed it a miracle I was still alive. I’ll hopefully be able to clarify some of the other details, but maybe the details aren’t that important. The aftermath is what is important. I sustained a brain injury. We would find out much later (when I was 18 or so) through an MRI that my left frontal lobe had been damaged. Google ‘left frontal lobe damage’ sometime. Interesting read. It is your executive function. It impairs your attention span, your ability to finish tasks, motivation, judgment, and organizational capacity. “Because of how your emotions are affected, the symptoms experienced from frontal lobe damage may cause you to become impulsive or assume risky behaviors.” Ummm, yes to all of the above!

I wish that were all there was to this story. Girl falls from balcony. Girl has brain damage. Girl deals with it throughout her life. That would be nice. But not even close.

By they way. The Armory where I fell is located on the campus of my Junior High School. I had classes up on the balcony/second floor where I fell. Very weird and ironic. Instead of just two bars of separation. It now contains 8. Wonder why…hmmm Liability issue, you think??

The Therapist is In

I think when anyone decides to sit down and actually write the things they have thought and spoken about their life, there is hesitation. I’m not worried about being judged, but I don’t know that I’ll be able to convey the thoughts and emotions, the sorrow and joy into words. But I’m going to try my best, Be patient with me. For some odd reason I feel like I have to, no -NEED- to get my story out there.