Month: October 2015

Traditions and trip ups- Not allowing PTSD, anxiety and depression dictate your holiday.

There was a couple who had recently gotten married and were celebrating their first holiday by having everyone over for dinner.

As she was preparing the ham she cut off the ends and placed it in the pan to cook. Her husband walked in and saw the ends sitting there, he asked: “why did you cut the ends off?”

“I don’t know, it’s just the way my mom always did it.”

As the ham was cooking the young wife calls her mother, to ask why she cut off the ends of the ham.

Her mother chuckles, and says, “because I didn’t have a pan big enough to cook the ham”.

Traditions and trip ups- Not allowing PTSD, anxiety and depression dictate your holiday.

 

In 2011 I was the target of a gang attack. As a result of the attack, I was offered counseling, and therapy.  During this time, I was diagnosed with PTSD, but I was also opening lots of worms from my childhood and the abuse I endured as a teenager.

Through all of this, I realized that I was allowing traditions to trip up my holidays by triggering my PTSD, anxiety and depression.

So where did this start:

Growing up I used to love Christmas. Christmas was filled with snow, lots of it.

It was filled with a fresh tree and lots of homemade sugar cookies with homemade frosting.

It also was more importantly filled with Grandma, Grandpa, aunts, uncles and cousins.

You would wake up to see what Santa brought you, then rush to grandmas house.

There was piano playing, singing and the cousins would get our ice skates and head to the swamp to skate on the pond.

There were no cell phones or technology just the outdoors and a “be home by dusk”.

The evening was finished with homemade chocolate malts.

Then my childhood as I loved, came to a crashing  HALT!

My mom and dad got divorced, my mom remarried and my grandmother (who I did EVERYTHING with) at age 55 was diagnosed and died of leukemia in less than a month.

Now, Christmas looked like this:

No laughter, No one hurrying to grandmas, and to top it off pack your bags before we go because your dad is coming to get you.

It went from bad to worse….fast forward to my getting married and moving 600 plus miles away.

We went home once and never went back. I couldn’t explain it, but I had no desire to be pulled here and there.

Now that I have kids who have kids, I so badly wanted to replicate my memories of the “Norman Rockwell” Christmas traditions that I grew up with, but that came at a price…my anxiety and depression were at an all time high and worse yet, I could not wait for January 1st so this “Scrooge like” person would go away.

Epic fail every year. Again not knowing that I was allowing my yearning for a tradition to trip up my holidays by triggering my PTSD, anxiety and depression.

So what started the change was 3 years ago…. We finally decided to go home for Christmas.  The kids all had places to go and be so we went home to Michigan.

On the drive back  home to Tennessee,  I told my husband we can go home again, but NOT during the holiday season. That’s when it hit me like a ton of bricks.  As I was trying to recreate traditions and make everyone happy during the holiday, I was made painfully aware that I CANT do that for my own well-being.  And I have to be OK with NOT being at every family function or worse yet trying to recreate the tradition.

Two years ago, we became empty-nesters, and I had to make a conscious decision to no longer allow the traditions to trip me up, become full of anxiety, fall into deep depression and a SCROOGE.

I had to give myself permission to start over with NEW TRADITIONS.

So here are a few ideas I have come up with:

Don’t keep yourself so busy that you don’t have to think about the holiday

Do come up with new things for you and your family to do

Acknowledge the holidays, but be OK with the change that you want to do

Don’t feel guilty for NOT doing a tradition; especially if that tradition creates a trigger for your PTSD, anxiety and or depression.

Realizing that boundaries are a key part of keeping your sanity

Learning what your triggers are and saying “NO” to those things that flare up your anxiety, PTSD etc

Start NEW traditions.

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As a woman who speaks life into women all day, why can we advise, instruct others to change and live life free, but we have a hard time granting ourselves the same freedom?

 

 

Whats your little white pill?

As she walked down the long corridor, her hand naturally touched her hair.  KiKi, her hairdresser had out done herself this time.

Jay started going through her mental checklist, but she could feel the stares.

Before making their grand entrance into the ball room, Jay turned to the mirror hanging on the wall and quickly took inventory.

Smile… check

Lipstick…. check

Running her hand down her dress she felt the strong hand of her husband on the small of her back.  His push was a little firmer  than usual.

Did he suspect anything, she thought?

He leaned in and with a whisper said, “Lets go, its showtime”.

Turning ever so elegantly she took his arm and started counting down the seconds till she could excuse herself to the restroom.

Clutching her little black bag, she could feel the prescription bottle.  Jays whole body started to ache for that euphoric feeling that that little white pill would give her.   Jay first had to fulfill her duties of the customary handshakes and hugs that were required of her as the wife of such a prestigious businessman.

 

How does one get here, when you have everything the world has to offer?

Maybe it was a simple surgery and they sent you home on medication.  After the healing process started, you became afraid of any pain so you simply asked for more.

Its now 9 months after the surgery and you find that this little white pill has become your world.

You may attempt a day or two with out the little white pill… but then the demands of daily life, the demands of keeping up with schedules and events is just easier with a little white pill.

At least that is what your mind tells you.  That is until your doctor suspects a problem and confronts you.

Your world comes crashing in when your doctor says no more.

You now find yourself the wife of a prestigious businessman, on the streets trying every avenue to find that little white pill.

 

You may think this is not your story because its not a “little white pill” that is your crutch to get through the day.

But ask yourself this; what “pill” or “alcohol” is it that I am using to get through the day?

Remember just becuase something maybe “legal” if it is being used to “get through the day” you need to seek help.

But remember the “pill, alcohol etc” is just a result of a deeper issue; so make sure you work all the way back to the root cause.

I have heard from many over the years as they sat across from me in an orange or black and white jumpsuit:  “I can’t believe it  had to get to here for God to get my attention”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If the Church doors could speak

IMG_3491It was rainy and the weather was turning cold.  As I sat in my warm vehicle, stopped at the light, my attention turned to the church across the road. My mind started to drift and all I heard was “what if the church doors could speak?”

What would they say.

“Ouch, why did you slam me so hard, what did I do to you?”

or

“Oh, I love it when she opens the door she never pushes too strong that it hurts my frame.”

No probably not.  But what about these…

“Hey you… you… yeah you… you know I am speaking to you.  You walk in here on Sunday morning all smug like you have no sin to be uncovered.  I saw the way you left your wife and children in the vehicle to fend for themselves in this cold rain.”

“Hey go talk to that couple over there.  Every week they are purposefully late. and leave before the last song is finished.  They sit across the street wait for the doors to shut.  Then they walk up, press out their outfits with their hands, she pats her face one last time to push back the tear stained blush and he takes 3 deep breaths before putting his hand on my handle.  Please someone talk to them before its too late.  They are hurting.”

Or what about….

“Hey ya’ll see that lady who snuck in… yeah her… the one who is looking at her phone so she won’t make eye contact with anyone.  She’s been at my door all week crying.  Look I even have a black streak from her makeup.  Go talk to her, she really needs a friend.”

Or

“Hey ya’ll you don’t know it but I do…there has been a group of people sleeping just outside my doors every night this week.  One of them even came up to the steps and laid their head on my threshold. They were crying and  wanted to know someone cared. They leave before anyone gets here in the morning.  I heard them talking about your sign saying “they are welcome here” but then they said all ‘church folk’ are the same and they really don’t want them worshiping in the same building.”

If your church doors could speak what would they say to you this week.

Remember doing “relationship” ministry is hard.

Its messy.

You will… get mascara stained clothing… I PROMISE.