As you may have guessed, my long absence from writing is largely due to the wedding of my daughter. Eons ago when I got married my mother was with me every step of the way. I was still living at home. My daughter, on the other hand, has been living in Utah going to school, so I haven't been able to be there for her like my mom was there for me. In many ways I felt left out. In other ways I was worried I was letting my daughter down.
It is funny how we can become so intensely engrossed in the small, not so important things. That is probably my greatest weakness. Perhaps it is associated with obsessive compulsive disorder, but I am often so distracted by minute details that I forget about the big picture. In that sense it is a good thing I was not always there for my daughter.
Within my church marriage is a very sacred covenant. The objective is always to be married in a temple. A person must live up to a certain level of standards in order to be worthy to go to the temple. It is not always easy to live up to all of those standards.
My husband and I were married in the Provo temple. My daughter and her husband were married in the Manti temple, which is about an hour and a half drive south of Provo. It is a very beautiful temple with a long, rich history. I had never been there before.
You would think the only people who would be terribly nervous on the day of a wedding would be the bride and groom. I think the bride and groom in this case were so eager to make the committment, they were probably more calm than some of we parents. I do not think I could have seen two more happy people as they finished the ceremony with a kiss.
Immediately following the wedding, pictures were taken. Then the small group who could attend inside the temple, or had waited outside, all went to have a luncheon at a nearby restraunt. For a small town like Manti, the food was remarkably good. Since we don't drink alcohol, we had a toast with water. It was wonderful to have family members reunited on such a special occasion.
After driving back up to the Provo/Orem area, we didn't have much time before we were supposed to be at the reception center for more photos. That part didn't go well. The bride and groom became rather preoccupied with enjoying their new marital bliss. They arrived late and my daughter's hair was a mess - an amazing fete given that it had been practically glued in place that morning before the wedding ceremony.
A lot of other people arrived late as well. Apparently there was some poor communication regarding when people needed to be where. Still, we got in some good photos before the crowds arrived. You know, during all the time I spent there I never once had a chance to get anything to eat. People now keep asking me about how the food was - and I honestly have no idea. Thank heaven I had the whole thing set up at a reception center. It was worth every penny. The stress it saved me was priceless. I was already befuddled enough without having those extra worries.
In the end, the important things happened as they should. The bride was radiantly, breathtakingly beautiful, just as she had always dreamed she would be on her wedding day. The groom could not have been more handsome or completely enamored by his new wife.
My second daughter caught the bridal bouquet. She seems to have a knack for such things. She's caught the last three bridal bouquets. My 18 year old nephew got the garter. He had no idea what to do with the thing. We told him to hang it on his rear view mirror as soon as he got a car. Speaking of cars, the happy couple's car was decorated three times over. Some people said that at least 60 different car fresheners were hidden inside. Of course, the most important part was what it said on the back "just married."
When it came time for them to go, all the guests lined the walkway to the heavily decorated car. After working their way through a few booby traps, the bride and groom took off.
My daughter may have some serious illness issues, but clearly the best medicine for her is the man she married. I'm very glad they found each other.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Hope in Death
A week ago my husband's grandmother died. For more than ten years our family has been visiting her. Every Christmas it was something our children always cherished. She was a most unique, colorful, loving, independent woman.
At 93 she was still living on her own, driving herself around, caring for her home out in the middle of nowhere, Texas. Stepping into her home was like a time warp. Suddenly you were steeped in the 1970's. This last Christmas she seemed a little more frail than usual, but still strong, still fiercely independent. Which is why her death was something of a surprise.
She lived a good life, on her own terms. Death came swiftly. There wasn't lingering illness and pain.
In my church we believe there is life after death. When our spirits leave our bodies we go to a place where we can await the resurrection, and in the case of some, share the teachings of Christ with others in the spirit rhelm.
During the funeral I was completely at peace. I even felt joy. I knew without a doubt she had been reunited with her beloved husband. I know she is happy.
My faith brings me peace. Find faith and you will always have hope.
Grandma was buried in a pink coffin sealed in a crypt with a sparkling bright pink cover. She will ever be vibrant in my memory until the day when we will meet again.
At 93 she was still living on her own, driving herself around, caring for her home out in the middle of nowhere, Texas. Stepping into her home was like a time warp. Suddenly you were steeped in the 1970's. This last Christmas she seemed a little more frail than usual, but still strong, still fiercely independent. Which is why her death was something of a surprise.
She lived a good life, on her own terms. Death came swiftly. There wasn't lingering illness and pain.
In my church we believe there is life after death. When our spirits leave our bodies we go to a place where we can await the resurrection, and in the case of some, share the teachings of Christ with others in the spirit rhelm.
During the funeral I was completely at peace. I even felt joy. I knew without a doubt she had been reunited with her beloved husband. I know she is happy.
My faith brings me peace. Find faith and you will always have hope.
Grandma was buried in a pink coffin sealed in a crypt with a sparkling bright pink cover. She will ever be vibrant in my memory until the day when we will meet again.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Bridal Shower
For days I've written about all kinds of subjects related to depression and mental illness, only to decide they're just not working. In the end I've deleted every one. The bottom line is that I'm falling apart. My own racing thoughts are feeding my brain with too much to catch. Holding on to my thoughts right now is difficult. When I do, I hold on to the wrong ones.
Yesterday afternoon I came home from a wedding shower for my daughter. For more than six hours I'd been fighting off a nightmare of a headache - probably due to tension. Throughout the whole thing I kept inadvertently clutching at my head. There was nothing I could do or take to get rid of the pain, not until the whole thing was over and I got home.
All my life I've had a certain amount of social anxiety. I like to socialize, but I get hypercritical of myself. I feel terribly awkward, like I don't know the polite or graceful thing to do. For hours after any social event, if I let myself, I'll be playing an replaying one small incident after another, thinking about how I should have done one thing or another; how I totally messed up everything.
I was eleven years old when I first keenly noticed my social fears. On a trip where I was staying with some people I didn't know I was stuck outside with a three year old for a few minutes. I was absolutely terrified. Talking with a three year old scared me to death. It was ludicrous.
From then on I decided I wasn't going to let my social fears control me. I deliberately forced myself to meet new people. I found that if I initiated the conversation, my confidence generally stayed higher. It was a smart move. In many respects I overcame my fear.
Yesterday, however, I was already wound up with worries on top of my social fears. My confidence was low. Nothing was in my ballpark mentally speaking. I survived it. One way or another I'm always too determined not to survive such events. (This may or may not be a good characteristic.)
Afterwards I came home in a vegetable state. For a long time I had to sit still, concentrating very hard on keeping my body physically relaxed - a form of biofeedback. Even then, I started crying. Why would I be crying after my daughter's wedding shower?
Just to get myself to stop thinking the thoughts that had gotten me crying in the first place, I went in the bedroom to watch TV with my husband for a few minutes. He'd asked me if we could go grocery shopping right after I'd gotten home. After the TV I decided the shopping would be a good diversion for my mind.
By then it was well after 5:00. I thought at that time on a Saturday that the grocery store wouldn't be such a madhouse. On that point I was extremely wrong. It was worse than Saturday morning. I wasn't thinking clearly in the first place, which led me to picking up some bad fruit. We caught it when we were in the check out stand, (bad timing). The fruit was the whole reason why we'd made the trip, so we went to the laborious trouble of getting better fruit. My husband was upset with me.
Over the last two days my husband has snapped at me over downright airheadedness on my part. Like I said, I'm not at the top of my game right now. His snappiness is a clear indication that the stress is getting to him as well. All the same, last night I had a terrible nightmare about how he decided to dump me and marry a friend of mine. He said he was too tired of having to deal with me and my problems. He needed to have a chance at happiness with someone 'normal.'
I was crushed beyond measure. I totally went bullistic over collecting spousal and child support. I wanted him to hurt the same way I was hurting. He'd totally discarded me like a piece of trash. It was without a doubt, one of my worst fears played out to the fullest.
Things really aren't so bad. I've got to pause and remember all of my blessings. My focus needs to be on what is most important right now, not on all the tiny details that jump out at me, screaming for the whole of my attention. I refuse to let myself get too uptight about this wedding. Whatever happens, happens. If the dresses don't match perfectly, I will survive. The dresses aren't the most important part. What's most important is that my daughter is getting married to a really great guy. He's the best medicine for her in every way.
This is going to be tough.
Yesterday afternoon I came home from a wedding shower for my daughter. For more than six hours I'd been fighting off a nightmare of a headache - probably due to tension. Throughout the whole thing I kept inadvertently clutching at my head. There was nothing I could do or take to get rid of the pain, not until the whole thing was over and I got home.
All my life I've had a certain amount of social anxiety. I like to socialize, but I get hypercritical of myself. I feel terribly awkward, like I don't know the polite or graceful thing to do. For hours after any social event, if I let myself, I'll be playing an replaying one small incident after another, thinking about how I should have done one thing or another; how I totally messed up everything.
I was eleven years old when I first keenly noticed my social fears. On a trip where I was staying with some people I didn't know I was stuck outside with a three year old for a few minutes. I was absolutely terrified. Talking with a three year old scared me to death. It was ludicrous.
From then on I decided I wasn't going to let my social fears control me. I deliberately forced myself to meet new people. I found that if I initiated the conversation, my confidence generally stayed higher. It was a smart move. In many respects I overcame my fear.
Yesterday, however, I was already wound up with worries on top of my social fears. My confidence was low. Nothing was in my ballpark mentally speaking. I survived it. One way or another I'm always too determined not to survive such events. (This may or may not be a good characteristic.)
Afterwards I came home in a vegetable state. For a long time I had to sit still, concentrating very hard on keeping my body physically relaxed - a form of biofeedback. Even then, I started crying. Why would I be crying after my daughter's wedding shower?
Just to get myself to stop thinking the thoughts that had gotten me crying in the first place, I went in the bedroom to watch TV with my husband for a few minutes. He'd asked me if we could go grocery shopping right after I'd gotten home. After the TV I decided the shopping would be a good diversion for my mind.
By then it was well after 5:00. I thought at that time on a Saturday that the grocery store wouldn't be such a madhouse. On that point I was extremely wrong. It was worse than Saturday morning. I wasn't thinking clearly in the first place, which led me to picking up some bad fruit. We caught it when we were in the check out stand, (bad timing). The fruit was the whole reason why we'd made the trip, so we went to the laborious trouble of getting better fruit. My husband was upset with me.
Over the last two days my husband has snapped at me over downright airheadedness on my part. Like I said, I'm not at the top of my game right now. His snappiness is a clear indication that the stress is getting to him as well. All the same, last night I had a terrible nightmare about how he decided to dump me and marry a friend of mine. He said he was too tired of having to deal with me and my problems. He needed to have a chance at happiness with someone 'normal.'
I was crushed beyond measure. I totally went bullistic over collecting spousal and child support. I wanted him to hurt the same way I was hurting. He'd totally discarded me like a piece of trash. It was without a doubt, one of my worst fears played out to the fullest.
Things really aren't so bad. I've got to pause and remember all of my blessings. My focus needs to be on what is most important right now, not on all the tiny details that jump out at me, screaming for the whole of my attention. I refuse to let myself get too uptight about this wedding. Whatever happens, happens. If the dresses don't match perfectly, I will survive. The dresses aren't the most important part. What's most important is that my daughter is getting married to a really great guy. He's the best medicine for her in every way.
This is going to be tough.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
RESURRECTION
I think I was reborn today.
The nightmare bills,
toothpaste sink,
my son's soiled bed,
my daughter's crayon fit,
the cluttered mess of things undone
dreams and 'shoulds'
'can'ts' and wants
was gone.
Gliding 'crost the silver sound of rustling leaves
was me,
back home
in worn out jeans,
too small shirt,
hair uncombed
in Our front yard.
That was safe.
That was me,
when thinking was a luxury.
I cleaned the sink,
washed the sheets,
scrubbed the wax from walls and floor,
The cluttered mess still lurks around.
I'll find some way to solve the bills.
I'm here,
right here,
where just beyond the window screen
the wind still blows
the world is green
and even though I'm years away
the laughing trees
still stirred my mind.
New born,
Slapped hard
I floundered for that lifeblood gas
of bright blue skies
and new cut grass.
I'm breathing now.
The air is sweet.
Once again,
I
can think.
The nightmare bills,
toothpaste sink,
my son's soiled bed,
my daughter's crayon fit,
the cluttered mess of things undone
dreams and 'shoulds'
'can'ts' and wants
was gone.
Gliding 'crost the silver sound of rustling leaves
was me,
back home
in worn out jeans,
too small shirt,
hair uncombed
in Our front yard.
That was safe.
That was me,
when thinking was a luxury.
I cleaned the sink,
washed the sheets,
scrubbed the wax from walls and floor,
The cluttered mess still lurks around.
I'll find some way to solve the bills.
I'm here,
right here,
where just beyond the window screen
the wind still blows
the world is green
and even though I'm years away
the laughing trees
still stirred my mind.
New born,
Slapped hard
I floundered for that lifeblood gas
of bright blue skies
and new cut grass.
I'm breathing now.
The air is sweet.
Once again,
I
can think.
Anger
Anger is a tricky emotion. I used to have these little psychotic flashes on a frequent basis. In my car while driving I'd see myself do something like deliberately running a red light to cause an accident. Or I'd be in the kitchen with a knife and I'd see vision of myself stabbing my husband. You get the idea.
They seemed really random to me. At times they'd be more frequent than at others. It took me a long time to figure out exactly why they were happening.
You see, I expect a lot from myself. Inside my head there's this constant list of things I 'should' be doing. I 'should' be the perfect wife who keeps the house in perfect order, has meals ready on the table on time, plans and runs the household like a pro. I 'should' be the perfect office manager who is there from 8:00 to 5:00, no lunch allowed, working to serve the needs of the patients, my employees, my husband doctor - anybody but me. I 'should' be working to get a writing career going for myself, be more active in my church, learn scrapbooking, volunteer at the schools, etc. etc. etc.
There is no possible way for me to live up to all the 'shoulds' that are constantly running around inside my head. When I don't live up to that impossible standard I get frustrated. I get angry. Sometimes it's good to get angry. Anger is a great motivator. If I see myself slipping away from being the kind of person I want myself to be, the anger usually kicks in enough to get me back on track.
But, like I said, the standards I set are unrealistic. There's no way I'm going to live up to everything. It makes me angry. I interpret the anger to be a bad emotion, and do my best to supress it. That is when those little psychotic flashes come into play.
My repressed anger emerges in the form of violent thoughts. I don't want to just hurt myself, I want to hurt the rest of the world for holding me back, for making life so difficult. Why can't my husband be more helpful? Why should I have to shoulder so much at work? I didn't want this job. Why does the house need to be perfectly clean and why should I be the one who must keep it that way? Anger, anger, anger.
Logically I know I can't do or be everything for everyone. Emotionally accepting that is an entirely different matter. The anger's got to come out somehow, so I get disturbing flashes.
The good news is, that if I'm doing a good job of managing my stress the flashes don't come. They can be eliminated entirely if I plan wisely, accept myself along with all of my limitations and budget my time in a way that accommodates my special needs. I eliminate the stress, which eliminates the anger, which in turn eliminates the flashes.
I didn't know all of this in the beginning. The flashes started when I was a teenager. They distressed me terribly. I couldn't believe my own mind would conjur up ways for me to hurt my own family members - the people I loved the most. Back then when the thoughts came I'd cut them off, denying their existence, vehemently shutting the whole thing down. It was actually the best thing I could have done. I taught myself how to control my own thoughts so they couldn't get out of control.
When I was older, however, and the postpartum depression set in, the visions became huge. What I saw in my head was violent to the point of absolute gore. The rage was insatiably blood thirsty. My little 'cut the thoughts off' technique wasn't enough.
Those were the times when I was unquestionably the most suicidal. Time and time again I would come to the conclusion that the only way I would be able to spare the lives of others was to kill myself before I acted upon any of my horrific visions.
It is a realistic concern. We read about people who go on killing rampages in the news all the time. You don't think those people could be you or your friend or your own family member, but you're wrong. There's a very fine line between thinking about such things and acting upon them.
I got help. Even when nobody else thought I could do those terrible things, I knew I could. It was either kill myself before something bad happened, or do whatever I had to do to find help.
Not everyone's experience with anger is like mine. Other people get angry when their concept of justice is not met, or things don't measure up to their expectations. Either way, if you're experiencing a lot of anger and rage it isn't something you should ignore. You need to figure out why it is there. If needed, get help before you snap.
I use anger every day. Sometimes it is why I get up in the morning, why I exercise or fix dinner, or resolve problems at work. It isn't a bad emotion. Sometimes you have to toss out your whole concept of 'good' and 'bad' before you can actually see things for what they are.
My daughter now says she has the same kind of flashes that I often used to have. They've been distressing her greatly. They don't fit into what she sees herself to be. I told her to try re-thinking the matter, that maybe it was just her own reaction to stress. For some reason, just knowing why the anger was there is empowering. She can move forward now. I hate to think how things might be if we did not have so much in common.
They seemed really random to me. At times they'd be more frequent than at others. It took me a long time to figure out exactly why they were happening.
You see, I expect a lot from myself. Inside my head there's this constant list of things I 'should' be doing. I 'should' be the perfect wife who keeps the house in perfect order, has meals ready on the table on time, plans and runs the household like a pro. I 'should' be the perfect office manager who is there from 8:00 to 5:00, no lunch allowed, working to serve the needs of the patients, my employees, my husband doctor - anybody but me. I 'should' be working to get a writing career going for myself, be more active in my church, learn scrapbooking, volunteer at the schools, etc. etc. etc.
There is no possible way for me to live up to all the 'shoulds' that are constantly running around inside my head. When I don't live up to that impossible standard I get frustrated. I get angry. Sometimes it's good to get angry. Anger is a great motivator. If I see myself slipping away from being the kind of person I want myself to be, the anger usually kicks in enough to get me back on track.
But, like I said, the standards I set are unrealistic. There's no way I'm going to live up to everything. It makes me angry. I interpret the anger to be a bad emotion, and do my best to supress it. That is when those little psychotic flashes come into play.
My repressed anger emerges in the form of violent thoughts. I don't want to just hurt myself, I want to hurt the rest of the world for holding me back, for making life so difficult. Why can't my husband be more helpful? Why should I have to shoulder so much at work? I didn't want this job. Why does the house need to be perfectly clean and why should I be the one who must keep it that way? Anger, anger, anger.
Logically I know I can't do or be everything for everyone. Emotionally accepting that is an entirely different matter. The anger's got to come out somehow, so I get disturbing flashes.
The good news is, that if I'm doing a good job of managing my stress the flashes don't come. They can be eliminated entirely if I plan wisely, accept myself along with all of my limitations and budget my time in a way that accommodates my special needs. I eliminate the stress, which eliminates the anger, which in turn eliminates the flashes.
I didn't know all of this in the beginning. The flashes started when I was a teenager. They distressed me terribly. I couldn't believe my own mind would conjur up ways for me to hurt my own family members - the people I loved the most. Back then when the thoughts came I'd cut them off, denying their existence, vehemently shutting the whole thing down. It was actually the best thing I could have done. I taught myself how to control my own thoughts so they couldn't get out of control.
When I was older, however, and the postpartum depression set in, the visions became huge. What I saw in my head was violent to the point of absolute gore. The rage was insatiably blood thirsty. My little 'cut the thoughts off' technique wasn't enough.
Those were the times when I was unquestionably the most suicidal. Time and time again I would come to the conclusion that the only way I would be able to spare the lives of others was to kill myself before I acted upon any of my horrific visions.
It is a realistic concern. We read about people who go on killing rampages in the news all the time. You don't think those people could be you or your friend or your own family member, but you're wrong. There's a very fine line between thinking about such things and acting upon them.
I got help. Even when nobody else thought I could do those terrible things, I knew I could. It was either kill myself before something bad happened, or do whatever I had to do to find help.
Not everyone's experience with anger is like mine. Other people get angry when their concept of justice is not met, or things don't measure up to their expectations. Either way, if you're experiencing a lot of anger and rage it isn't something you should ignore. You need to figure out why it is there. If needed, get help before you snap.
I use anger every day. Sometimes it is why I get up in the morning, why I exercise or fix dinner, or resolve problems at work. It isn't a bad emotion. Sometimes you have to toss out your whole concept of 'good' and 'bad' before you can actually see things for what they are.
My daughter now says she has the same kind of flashes that I often used to have. They've been distressing her greatly. They don't fit into what she sees herself to be. I told her to try re-thinking the matter, that maybe it was just her own reaction to stress. For some reason, just knowing why the anger was there is empowering. She can move forward now. I hate to think how things might be if we did not have so much in common.
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