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

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

 

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.

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

 

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 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

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??