Anxiety, and intentional self-care

Yup, I was right.

I worked myself up really well today and tonight.

By the time I got to the orientation with my daughter at her school, I could hardly manage to sit in on it, I was so anxious. I was sick-to-my-stomach-anxious.

When we got home, I managed to get all the things that I think Peter will need into his back pack. All his school supplies are there already, dropped off at his open house last week. So, its just some residual paperwork that had to be signed and turned in to the teacher.

When I got home with Marina, the house was quiet, so I put in a favorite movie, and got her settled in.

Then I went and changed into my pj's and took some of my medication to help my anxiety.

I have 2 different types. One is supposed to be for panic attacks, as they are happening because it is fast acting. The other is a longer term (12 hour) medication to control generalized anxiety. I can use them in combination because sometimes I will still have a panic attack at times while on the longer lasting medication.

I started with the 12 hour med. tonight. Hmm... after about an hour I realized that I still felt like I couldn't breathe and had a tight band around my chest and I was still sick to my stomach. So I went and took half of one of the pills that is for my panic attacks. Just half a dose (the whole thing might have made me too sleepy).

I can breathe a bit better, and maybe enough now to be able to concentrate on praying and writing, as I may not have much of a chance in the morning.

It depends on how the morning plays out, and if I can get up early enough to spend some time in the Word before I have to get Peter to school.

In the summer, I have had the luxury of getting the kids to the farm, or leaving them with dad on some mornings, so that I can get to the church early... some days way earlier than I need to be. Those days I have been able to have as much as 45 minutes sometimes before I actually start work. I have curled up in the sanctuary with some hot coffee, my bible and my journal. Sometimes I have brought in worship music and played at the piano first to focus me and my thoughts.

Now I am going to have to rearrange things for this school year. There is no way that I am going to be able to get in there that early anymore. Not with dropping off either one or two kids, at two different schools before hand. Even on a good day, I might not be able to get there more than 10 minutes early when I have to drop off both kids. When I have to drop off only Peter, I might make it with 20 minutes extra.

Hey, I know I sound like I am complaining. But I have had a really hard time with getting up early in the morning. And with my house in the horrible condition it's in, I have little space to call my own to do a quiet time before I leave home. My desk isn't even a sanctuary because my laptop is on it, and it has piles of paper EVERYWHERE!!!

I need my time with God, now more than ever. I don't know how or when I will get it. But oh, do I need it.

Please pray for me in this area too.

I feel like I am sounding so selfish that the "kids are putting me out by interfering with my time with God" and though I know that the condemning thoughts aren't from God, they are hard to counter.

I have always felt selfish when caring for myself. I know getting good sleep, writing, spending time with God, and having some alone "me" time are parts of self care that I really need to work on.

But I still feel selfish when I take them.
I feel like there are people who look at me and judge me for taking that time out.
Or there are times when I feel like I am getting a cold shoulder because I have taken that time.

So then I stop.

And then I suffer.

Depression.
Exhaustion.
Disconnection.
Anxiety.
Fear.
Overwhelmed.

And thus the enemy has used lies to get me to stop taking care of myself. In the process, I have spiraled down again. And I feel like I have to start over at square one. Again. And again.

So, as the school year starts, with both kids being in school, I have to seek out the times that I can carve out (even unlikely ones) to care for myself. Caring for myself physically and caring for myself spiritually as well.

I know I have to pursue this intentionally or there will be so many things that crowd in on me that I will not be able to handle it.

My medication has worked enough that I can breathe now, and I can focus enough to write. That is a plus....

....Now with an intentional decision, I am shutting down this computer, and climb into bed with my bible and journal for a bit of time with God before I completely fall asleep.

Letting go...

First thing I have to say is that this weekend's Baptismal Service was incredible.

I think I cried through the whole thing, listening to the stories these people had to tell of God's incredible grace and pursuit of them.

And now I know for sure that I was not supposed to be up there with them. After the service was done, I walked away thinking that it was a really good thing I didn't talk to anyone about it. (Well, at least at church anyway)

That part of the day was wonderful, and I was so excited for my friend and her son who were baptized together, prayed for each other up there, and had the courage to get up and share their stories. I was so thrilled for them that afterward I think I hugged them both about three times!

God is so good.

That night, we had a celebration and farewell for our associate pastor and his family. They are planting a new church in a town about 20-25 minutes north of us. Oh, it was so hard to say goodbye that night. Many people gave testimonies of how this pastor and his family have impacted their lives.

My husband made a DVD of pictures put to songs, as a digital scrapbook for them. We showed that at the end, and it helped lighten the mood a little bit. There were many tears shed that night though.

Yesterday morning, as a staff we got together with Pastor Brad, one last time as part of our weekly staff meeting. We were just able to share and talk and enjoy our time together, and it was just good time together.

Once we got back to the office, it was like a normal day, as we were all running about our business and he had a meeting in the morning, and had to run out for some others during the day.


Today is something totally different. He is here with his family cleaning out his office.

He was our associate pastor, but also our youth pastor. He had tons of pictures, posters, books, files, and many other things all over his office. Of all the offices here, it seemed the most "homey" and the most comfortable and inviting. It was a restful, peaceful place that many were invited into during the course of his 12 years here in official ministry.

Now, most of the things are moved out of Pastor Brad's office.

He only has a few more things to go, one of them being his personal desk that has a glass top, under which are many pictures, quotes, bible verses and cards.

His girls and wife are carting things out one at a time. The walls are bare, and he is patching up the holes.

That's the external activity going on. But let me tell you, the internal turmoil in me is matching the level of external turmoil.

I had a doctor's appointment for the kids this morning, early. I was told one thing by their doctor about my son's bee allergy and his need for close access to his EpiPen (he is 6 and a half). He recommended that it be with him all the time. When I talked to the school nurse, she said that he should have a fanny pack that can have one in it in the classroom for him, and then when he heads to gym or the library or recess, he can just take that with him. I left the EpiPens with her, and told her I would get a fanny pack.

When I had the chance to talk to my husband (he's a nurse by profession) he strongly disagreed that Peter needed to carry it on him at all times. He didn't want him having to hang onto it all the time. He felt carrying it to gym, etc was just "too much." We didn't get to talk about it too much as we were both at work, and I hope to discuss it with him later.

I see both sides. Yes, we want Peter to have one within quick reach, in case he gets stung by a bee. We don't know if he will have another systemic allergic reaction again or not. We have to be prepared. However, my son has a tendency towards fear and worry. I don't want him to be constantly consumed with concerns and worries about if he has the EpiPen with him or not.

Over the summer, he has come to trust that we will carry one with us, so that when he is with us he is fine - the same with his grandparents. I really don't want that to change, so I am not sure how to balance what his doctor said with my son and his reactions to things and the reality of how quickly an allergic reaction could happen.

And I have just realized that I am really having a hard time with letting Peter go back to school without knowing what is going to happen to him, and having to trust that God will take care of him when he isn't with me.

I have trusted that to a certain extent this summer, because for the most part Peter has been near me or someone else who will remember the EpiPen. But what about when he is in school? What about the lunch room, or recess, or the gym class going out the the football field (too far away from an EpiPen if it's left behind) and he gets stung?

I have to let go of control.
A letting go.
Letting God.

And my pastor is moving out of his office.
Planning on not being here tomorrow.

Did I mention that I really don't like this?

It hurts to see him go. It's going to be really quiet around here... and we are going to be missing a key person in our church. There is something about this man of God that breathes life into a room when he walks in.

A loss to grieve.

Though he really is no more than about a half hour from our church, in reality, I know that I won't be seeing much of him anymore. At least not for a while as he establishes his ministry and his own church.

I don't like the idea of walking out of here at the end of the day and having to say goodbye to him.

Another letting go.

I have re-read this post, and it is such a mix of concerns and worries and topics. I am sorry, but this post, much like my head, is a jumble of things. I have no time to slow down between now and bed to even think about these things, much less process them and work through them.

I feel overwhelmed and not able to deal with it all because I am working as well, so I don't know HOW to! I can't be there all the time, and I don't have the down time to work it all out, and somehow I have to come home tonight and get Peter ready for school tomorrow, and have something ready to tell his teacher about the EpiPen, if he isn't going to be carrying it around with him all the time.

Then I have to come to work tomorrow morning, knowing that Pastor Brad's office will be empty. I may not even be able to pull away a whole lot tomorrow morning because I will be dropping off Peter at school, so I will be getting to work maybe only 15 minutes early, rather than the 35-40 minutes that I have been used to. I won't get my time in the sanctuary with God the way I want.

Oh please pray for this mother's heart.
Pray for me as again, I have to let things go.

I can't control it all - I know that - but I am a control freak I guess.

Oh God, take control. Help me let go. To trust my children to you. To trust my husband to you. To trust my job to you. To trust my friends to you. And to truly hand them over to you... not yanking them back again. Help me in the letting go, to have peace.

For the most part...

This week has been pretty good.

For the most part.

I have pushed back the depression.

For the most part.

I have written in my journal and expressed my emotions to God.

For the most part.

I have worked on trying to enjoy the pleasant moments that come to me.

For the most part.

But today, though it's sunny out and there is a warm gentle breeze in the air, I'm tired.

I have laundry to do, and somehow come up with a dinner plan with what I have in the house. I'm too tired to go out and buy something, anything to make the meal plan easier or better.



This weekend we have a special Sunday. There is going to be a baptism. Not just of one person, but of about 6 or 7. Four of them are new believers within this past year or so. One couple is a mother and her son.

I am so excited for them!

We are centering our whole church service around them. Our pastor might say a little bit as a reflection, but their testimonies are going to be our sermon really. I mean, who can refute what God has done in their lives? What else could possibly convict us more of any sins or encourage those of us who are discouraged?

I know that God is going to work and it's going to be a special weekend and I celebrate with them.

For the most part.

I think part of me is jealous a little bit. I mean, I was baptized as an adult believer. At this church. I did it back in November of 2002. My husband had already been baptized not long after he had become a Christian. I never had. I felt that my public confession of faith was when I was confirmed in front of the church that Dave and I were eventually married at.

I never saw the need to be baptized as an adult. I was baptized as a baby, and I knew that wasn't right, or enough. I knew after I became a believer that there had to be more, a public confession. So, I was discipled by a Lutheran pastor and he did a special confirmation service for me, in front of that whole church, with my family in attendance.

The reason I was baptized at this church was because it was a requirement to become a member.

I agreed with that.

For the most part.

The other part of me was, well, not exactly happy. I didn't think that because I wasn't baptized as a believing adult, but instead did a public confession through confirmation as a believing adult, that I should be "barred" from membership in the church.

I did it, as I look back on it, because it was a requirement to become a member of the church. Something I had to do. To me then if felt like a hoop made by man to "jump through" to qualify. It was something that I had to do so that I could become part of this family that I so wanted to be a part of. To be accepted.


I was reflecting on this the other day, and realized that I wish I could be baptized again. But this time with the right attitude behind it. I think the wish behind it was that I really would make it a public confession. To my family. To Dave's family. When I was baptized in 2002, I didn't tell any of them. I kept it quiet, because to me it was just a requirement for membership at the time.



I won't be baptized again, because that isn't what adult baptism is about. It is about a public confession that someone has turned away from their old life, and given their hearts and lives to Christ. I have already publicly confessed that.

I guess what I want is a special touch. From God.

For the most part.

I need something tangible. I want something tangible. I want something public(ish). Not to get attention, but to finally get to the point of laying down some things. Some things that I have been carrying and not really told anyone about - it's just been me and God - and my counselor with some of it.

Our church doesn't do alter calls. It used have times during one service a month where people could come forward for special prayer. It is an option (not widely known, I don't think) that people can have the Overseers of our church come and anoint them with oil and lay hands on them and pray for/over them.


I don't really know how to express what I desire in my heart, or what I need. I don't know what else to say.

I am still struggling with finding this depression coming back down on me so hard... even though I am not in the same place I was before, it still feels the same... that suffocating darkness.

I struggle with letting things get between me and God. I turn away from them, then go back to them, then turn away from them again. And I feel guilty

I would love to have those things "washed away" though I know that baptism really won't do that.

I guess I would really love to have someone else to pray over me, for me. My small group leader and his wife are more than overwhelmed, with Henry's death, with their own problems, with the different needs and hard times all of us have gone through individually. Besides, we haven't met for a month.

I don't really know how to put things into words well right now.


I am so thankful that God knows my heart. I am so grateful that He can redeem anything - including my attitude and interior motives when I was baptized. I am so glad He can redeem the bad things out of my past. Redeem and buy back and restore the things that depression takes away from me.

And oh, His forgiveness and patience with me. Though I find myself clinging to worthless idols. When I cling to God, His grace covers me.

I know Jesus is more than enough for me. I know that He can take so many things that are bothering me in my life right now, things that are struggles and love me through them and keep me in His arms and that He can cover it all. He is more than enough for all my mistakes.

This weekend I will see and hear the testimonies to those very things. In the lives of people that I care about, and those I am just starting to get to know.

So, I will rejoice with them.

For the most part.

Because that other part of me still wishes for that chance to "do over" my baptism. That other part of me wants to be up there with them.

But this is their story.
Mine is different.

But God has authored them all.

Redeem this....

This title was borrowed from someone else.... actually from her post.

I have been reading her blog for a while now. Many of her posts stand out to me for many different reasons, and I keep going back.

I wouldn't have Lyla's job for all the world. Assessing other people's damages, losses to fires, storms, etc... to figure out how much it is all worth in dollars, and having to separate herself from the incalculable losses of things that can't be replaced......

Things that can't be redeemed....

Except by God.

Please do take a moment to read her post,

"Redeem This"

It's well worth the time.

Pleasant happenings...

So Tricia asked me to take note of pleasant things that happened....

I have labeled them before as "joy moments."

One of my friends from college caught this phrase.... and reminded me of it in her comment in my last post....

"another joy moment: a perfect grilled cheese sandwich. :) "

She was referencing a post I made on Facebook about the perfect grilled cheese sandwich.

Start your griddle or frying pan to heat on medium. Butter a piece of bread on one side, place it butter side down. Put down your cheddar cheese (note: Velveeta WILL NOT DUE) and sprinkle a little bit of garlic powder. Then cut up a nice big ole slice of garden fresh tomato (I used a golden one, just picked today) and lay that on top of the cheese. Put down the other piece of bread, butter side up, and grill (both sides) till the cheese is gooey, or till you can't stand to wait any more.

Sigh.

That's making me hungry again.

Another joy moment tonight.
I had three right in a row!!!

First it was that grilled cheese sandwich.
Then I got to sit next to my hubby on the couch and watch Mythbusters on Discovery Channel.

Then I got to walk my friend's dog. My friend is staying with us for a while, and since she is gone overnight, I got to walk her dog tonight. Let me tell you, I think I tired both of us out. I haven't kept up that pace of a walk in a long time! :)

It was really great. A brisk walk, cool night air, a perfect breeze.... and the pooch actually decided to listen to me tonight and heeled the whole way!!!

So, three great things.

Three pleasant happenings.

All in one night.

I'm sure there are more, like my daughter snuggling me this afternoon when she wasn't feeling well. An unknown man stopping to assist me when my lawn mower would start but not keep running (he spent over an hour fixing it for me!!!) Never got his name, but am eternally grateful. What a blessing he was! My son made it through getting his six yr. old molars sealed, and 2 bad cavities filled. And he was so brave about it, he didn't even need me in the room with him... and there are still more.

I can't pass over these pleasant happenings.

These joy moments.

God is good.

What I walked away with today....

I walked out of my appointment with Tricia today, feeling by far much better than I have in a long time.

I didn't hold anything back from her that I could think of, not knowingly anyway. I told her how frustrated I had been in our last session and going back to work out of it. She nodded and said that she had been able to tell.

When I shared how I had exploded more or less once the church was empty that night, she also said that she was pretty sure she had left me in a fragile state when I walked out of the office, but she didn't want to say that in case she planted a thought that wasn't really there. Boy, I'm glad things didn't get worse than they did last week, or there would have been some pieces to be picked up!

We talked about what God has done this week. How He has worked, and just how He used that frustrating session last week to get me just out there enough to talk to Sandy about it, a little, after a lot of prying on her part. Her persistence and her verbally forgiving me, and reminding me that Henry wouldn't want me to beat myself up either, and that I was by far more important than anything else.... that changed me, though I didn't know or recognize it at the time.

I didn't recognize it until I was sharing the things of the week with Tricia and she started praising God right there in the middle of it. She got so excited she nearly jumped up and down! Slapped her clipboard down on the footstool between us, and out loud praised God for how He works all things together.

Because, as I now realize it, He did. He worked this past week - the pain - the hurt - the guilt - the frustration from my session - my conversation with Sandy - my tiredness - my lowered defenses - into a healing for me. Not fully, but a lightening of the load.

Maybe that's part of why I walked out of Tricia's office today feeling lighter.

Is the depression gone?
No.
I wish it were that easy.

I wish I could say, "Nah, I don't really need to come back. I'm fine now."

However, I would probably be back in 6 months or a year, burned out and worse than I am now.

I told Tricia that there are better days than others. Sometimes I am too busy to notice the depression except in passing. Other days it nearly debilitates me and makes me non-functional. Sometimes I am ok, and experiencing a pleasant moment, but I can see the dark clouds on the horizon, and wonder when the storm is going to hit, how fast it is moving, and how severe it's going to be.

Tricia said to me that she was feeling that Henry's death was just the icing on the cake for me. The she looked at me and asked me what the cake was... expecting an answer. What did I say?

I. Don't. Know.

We don't know what that "cake" is under the icing. Neither of us do. Maybe there is nothing there, maybe there is another layer from previous things that needs to be addressed. Really we don't know, but there were some things that were brought up today (for another post) that are things to explore.

Tricia prayed for both of us at the end of our session today. She prayed for me that I would be able to see the good times and essentially experience the "joy moments" and for guidance and help for the worship rehearsal tonight, and my job and the upcoming events that are causing me stress.

She prayed for herself that God would give her the wisdom to know how to help. That He would grant her discernment in how to continue to develop a treatment plan for me, and that she would have His wisdom in everything and every way.

I came out of Tricia's office today with two things from her to remember.

Three things though I have walked away with.

One: When I have something pleasant happen, enjoy it. Take note of it. Experience it. Don't just blow by it unnoticed and unappreciated. From the simple sun on my face, to a quiet snuggle with the kids, to an unexpected but wonderful talk with my husband.

Two: Don't go digging too deep. Don't try to over analyze what is going on with me, or the "why's" that want to show up. Let God show things as He will, but don't go digging for them or too deeply before I'm ready.

And this is the one that I am really adding on to the list... not something Tricia specifically sent me away thinking about. This is one that I have only realized now, after writing a brief email to Cindy (and oh, I can't wait to talk to Cindy D. about this too!)

Three: I have walked away from this appointment with a little smoldering wick. This bruised reed that I am is carrying a little flame that I thought was gone. In the face of it all, I do have one thing back, just from this session with Tricia. And now I have a name for it.

HOPE.

one of those days...

There are those days for me when I don't want to go back and see Tricia, my counselor.

Sometimes they are days when I am doing poorly, or frustrated, or really depressed and feeling like there is no hope, so why go at all.

Then there are the days where I am feeling better. I feel and see hope. I am able to focus. I am able to hear a bit from God again... at least a little.

In both of those cases, I feel like I am going to be wasting Tricia's time and my money. What's the point of going, because maybe I am making a mountain out of a molehill?

Yesterday was one of those days that I was feeling better. It was quiet in the office because everyone is gone on vacation except for me, so there were no incoming calls. I was able to spend some good time with God before work started. But it was more than that.

Over the end of last week, I spent a good amount of time at Sandy's house. She is dog sitting but was out of town the first couple of days, so I was the temporary stand in. I went over to her house three or four times a day between Thursday afternoon and Saturday afternoon.

I was able to have some nice quiet time in Sandy's house, both Thursday night and Friday morning. When I came back on Friday night, I found I kept looking over at Henry's empty recliner.

I finally got up.
I couldn't refuse the inner prompting I was getting.

I walked over to his chair, sat down and curled up in it. Then the tears came. Oh I cried! I don't know for how long, but do know that I had limited time there, so I had to keep it relatively short.

The next morning when I went back to let the dog out, we came back inside and I did the same thing again, curled up in Henry's recliner and cried for a while.

All I can say from the experience was that I felt like it was the closest I was going to get right now to that hug from my Daddy that I need so badly. That hug from my Papa.

Maybe a little bit more healing took place then. I am not sure. But that may have affected how I felt yesterday. Better, and more able to work and concentrate.

I'm not sure what God is doing. I am struggling with surrendering some things to Him and of course everywhere I look, I see and read about surrendering to Him. Letting go. Abandoning our jars, like Joy said, rather than clinging to them ourselves, believing they are the most important thing, and that we can't live without them.

Sunday morning I got to church well before anyone else. I spent some time praying through the church, and praying for the service. Something in me caused me to get on my knees and I just lifted up my hands to God and asked Him to take all of me and use me that morning.

I can't say I "felt" any different, but I think it gave me a new outlook on the day.

That wasn't the specific surrender that God has been asking for. He is looking for me to give up some specific things, and I have been less than willing to listen, less than willing to try it His way. You see, I have these "default" coping mechanisms. Things that I automatically do or think, that I use when either I want to run from God or run from the emotions I am experiencing at the time.

It can be generally ok things like reading, playing on the computer, watching TV or a movie.... It can be some not so healthy things like over eating or impulsively running out to get something specific to eat if I don't have it in the house, or just plain impulsive shopping.

But they become bad things when they come between me and God. I know that. but I am running back over and over to the same old defaults and not to God with my emotions or pain or frustration.

Why am I so afraid to go to my Father? Isn't that what I have been saying all along? That I need my Daddy?

Maybe that is why, when it comes time to going to counseling, I don't want to go, or I have one of "those days" where I feel like I shouldn't go. Because maybe Tricia will be able to help me answer those questions. Maybe she will be able to help me get at the root of why I am running away rather than running to God.

Whatever the stronghold might be (if there is one) or the bondage that might be there, of course the enemy of my soul and yours doesn't want it broken apart. So he comes at me either subtly by giving me such a good day that I can try to talk myself out of going. Or he comes at me with such a horrible day that I just want to skip it because what's the point when there's no hope....

I'm going to counseling tomorrow.
I'm going.
I'm not sure I'm fully willing, but I'm going.

And if the Lord will make me even willing to be willing, maybe something will start to change. Maybe I won't have so many of "those days," and won't be so afraid of the hard work and change going to see Tricia will make me do.

four hours...

Four hours.

Four. Hours.

That's how long I played the piano today.

Four.
Hours.
Straight.

I am filling in for our normal pianist for worship team. She had picked the music sets already for me, but there was a song or two that were really hard, as they were new and I had a hard time singing and playing them at the same time.

Did I mention they are also putting a mic on me at the piano? I'm singing too.

So, I pulled out the song that I couldn't sing AND play. Then I tried to fit in another song. Then that didn't work with the ones around it, and lo and behold, I kept only one of her songs in that set, and rearranged everything else.

It turned out well.

But it meant I really had to practice a lot tonight. So I started at 5pm after I was done with work. I played till almost 8pm took a 15 minute break, and then started rehearsal with the worship team - till 9:15pm or so.

It was hard work. My hands, fingers and arms aren't used to that hard work. On top of that, the grand piano at church has a harder touch than my piano at home, so I have to press the keys harder. Thus, more muscle work out.

However.

I spent 4 hours... on the piano... playing...
worship music.
playing and singing worship music.

To my God.

I may be exhausted. My voice is almost gone. My fingers can hardly type this. However, I think it was worth it.

God did something through that. The words must have sunk through to my sub-conscious. So, even when I was all worried about the chords and music and technical aspect, the truth about which I was singing somehow permeated me and touched my heart and soul where it needed it.

I didn't realize it till I got home.

I spent a bit of time with some friends, talking in the parking lot for a few minutes after I was done. Just hanging and finally relaxing from the day. It was a nice end to the day. Worship and then a little bit of fellowship and laughter with some friends.

I came home lighter than I went to work, by far.

God did that, folks. It was NOTHING I did at all.

I still have the same problems...
I'm still exhausted mentally, emotionally, spiritually, physically....
I'm still grieving....
I still have guilt and the strong desire for forgiveness...

But God worked in my heart and reminded me that He still loves me.

One of the songs we sang talked about how God is mighty and strong to save.

"Oh what a Savior, freedom forever!
We lift our hands with chains undone.
Hearts have known mercy,
Cannot keep silent.
We sing a song of saving love."

Amazing words.
About our amazing God.

MY amazing God.

I am still extremely exhausted, but the very long day was worth it in the end...

My Father met me in a way I didn't expect and gave me a measure of peace tonight. It's enough to get to sleep with. I know He will give me enough for this weekend of crazy family stuff. He will give me enough to get through worship this Sunday, and He will use me to help lead others in worship. If I can do that, it will be more than enough.

Because He is more than enough.

He showed up for four hours.

Four.
Hours.

It was worth the time.

anger, shame and guilt

I don't know how to share what I want to - or even if I want to.

I am so mad, so angry at myself.

Yesterday, I thought it was at God.

Last night the guilt and shame kicked in, and I realized the anger was all directed at myself.

I read my "no send" letter to Tricia yesterday. It had been really hard to write. I couldn't write it until Saturday night, which was a bad idea, as then my brain didn't shut down and I had a hard time sleeping.

After I shared it, we talked about one of the main things that came up over and over in the letter. I had to give her all the back ground information so she knew the history, because this was something that I never talked about when we had counseled before.

At the time, there were other, more important, or at least pressing and debilitating things that needed addressing. So it never came out.

Until now.

Maybe God decided that I was ready for this, that I had the strength for this.

I think He is wrong.

The more we talked, the more agitated I became. At the end I apologized for picking at her pillow. I said something about being afraid I would pick it apart. She laughed and said that it has seemed to hold up pretty well so far.

We went over our time together a few minutes, but she still took the time to pray with me. That started some tears... a little bit. Then as we stood up and she offered me a hug, I almost lost it right then and there. I started to cry a little more, the tears really threatened to take over, but I was forcing them down, though I was shaking and I knew she could tell.

She pulled back and looked at me right in the eye. She asked me if I was upset with her for spending our whole time on the subject we did.

"No, not really," and then I paused and corrected myself, "I guess a little." It still wasn't the whole truth, but closer to it.

She accepted what I said, and encouraged me a bit more and then sent me on my way. As we walked out, we were going to set up an appointment, but I didn't have my calendar with me. I had to go back to work to get it... so we said that we would aim for 2 weeks out.

I left the office, walked down the hall, rounded the corner and ran into the bathroom that was there, locking the door behind me. I dropped my bag and slid down the wall, collapsing on the floor.

All I could say was, "Really? Really God?"

And the tears came, fast and hard.
Then I heard someone jiggle the door handle, wanting to use it, but finding it locked, I heard them walk away.
That stopped the tears.

I left the bathroom shortly after and took the stairs down the 3 floors. (I don't like elevators)

I made it back to work, and called to set up my next appointment. I tried for 2 weeks out, but my schedule didn't coordinate well with Tricia's. So I am going to see her next week, on Wednesday. It ends up being 9 days apart, rather than 14. But it was the best I could do without going out about 3 weeks or so.

After my appointment with her, I wasn't sure I wanted to go back, but I think God orchestrated it so that I could only get that appointment to work out in my schedule. I was so raw yesterday (and still am today) that I wasn't sure that I could wait even that long.

Now I know that I am going to be able to make it that long.

I have the chance this weekend to have some time alone. The kids are at the farm. Dave is working. I am going to try to get away from the house, and get away to a private place if possible (if my back yard doesn't work out) and process through some of the stuff we talked about.

I am not able to manage to do too much right now, or think to hard about what we talked about. Even writing this post is extremely hard.

This morning I was able to pray some on the way to work. I got there extremely early for me; I beat both of the pastors there. I grabbed some worship music and went to the piano and played for a while, and finally was able to sing some. God doesn't let me get away with singing and not really feeling the words.... so it helped break through some of the self imposed numbness.

It was a good start to the day. Probably the best I felt all day. Because as the day continued, my anxiety climbed, and I felt worse and worse. I am a bit better now, and ready to head to bed. I wasn't intending on writing today, because I didn't think I had anything to write about.

I guess I was wrong.

I know God is faithful. I know He is sovereign. I know He loves me. I know all this in my head. The guilt is overwhelming and the shame makes me want to hide. My emotions and the things I know have to be lies are over-riding the truth.

counseling and conscious shut-down...

I was planning on writing tonight about how my counseling session went with Tricia this afternoon.

I don't think I can yet.

I still need to process.

I will tell you, I was able to go back to work somehow afterward. But it wasn't pleasant, and thankfully I had less than an hour to work before I could go.

I will tell you, I spent a bit of time in the sanctuary after everyone was gone, yelling at God, feeling shame, confusion, guilt and lots of pain, mixed in with some despair too. Sure makes for a great combination (I'm kidding of course... hope you sensed the sarcasm intended there).

I will tell you that I very consciously shut down on my way home. I had to function tonight. I had to help with swim lessons. I had to somehow cope and deal with family life without falling apart.

So, I let myself yell in the sanctuary, and the car as I started my drive home. But I got to the end of a street, not far from the church and said,

"Ok, I'm done now. It's over, and I am not going to deal with this now. I can't do this tonight, I can't handle the pain. So I am done. No more tears, and no more thoughts."

And I shut it off.

Ok, so I know it's not really shut off and is still down in there somewhere.

I talked a bit to my friend Cindy D. tonight on the phone. We shared quite a bit and I had the opportunity to make a choice. I was faced with the question, do I share, or do I hold back? She asked how things went, and then quickly said that I didn't need to share. I eventually made the decision and shared with her. But for the most part, I was able to keep my emotions shut down.

Maybe I can write about it more later, once I have processed some and worked through some of the things on my own, and maybe more with Tricia this next week.

Just know I am now dealing with feelings of extreme shame and guilt on top of the grief already there.

Thank you for bearing with me as I process. It's been a long day and I am more than ready for bed, as long as my brain decides to shut down. And thank you to those of you who keep coming alongside me. I can't tell you how much it means to me!

coming unraveled...

I still feel like I am coming unraveled. I don't know what is wrong with me.

My brain is just not making sense of this.

Wednesday night I fell apart at church. I was there for worship rehearsal, and retreated to a quiet room, because I could feel my anxiety and fear going up, and I as soon as I got in there, I blew. I started crying - sobbing - so hard that I couldn't control it at all.

I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to be anywhere.



Yesterday, I got a lot accomplished at home, which felt good. But I was running all day. I kept my hands and mind busy with lots of other things, so I didn't think too much.

Last night, Cindy D. came over after dropping her son off at work in town. When she got here, I started a fire in our fire pit. Her son got off of work, only 2 hours after he started, but he walked over to our house and hung out with Dave watching a Dr. Who episode and generally having a good guy time, while Cindy D. and I had good "girl time" at the fire.

As we talked, all that I had repressed during the day started to surface. She could tell that I was starting to "break" and she started to pray for me......

and the tears came
and the sobs started

I doubled over in my chair, just aching and hurting with no real release from it. It helped some, but I just hurt more.

She prayed that God would take the wall down that I had built up, brick by brick, that I would be able to let the tears flow and release some of what I have been holding in. I guess I did, but my internal reaction to her prayer was to tell God no, and try to take the bricks and put them back up.

I'm not sure how long I cried, but it was well after sunset before I was a bit more composed, and the tears still came on and off the rest of the night. I was so blessed by Cindy D's presence with me. She stayed with me through all the tears, and the pain. I got back to a place of relative peace, compared to earlier in the day. I don't think I would have gotten there alone. I was tempted to go to other coping mechanisms if she hadn't been able to come over.

I didn't want to think or feel.

Through her presence and her prayers, I sensed God with me, and I didn't have any more energy to run from Him. I knew He had orchestrated it that she would be there last night, and that I would feel safe enough with her. He knew what I needed and provided it.

We both praise God that He has given us this friendship. Neither of us, a few months ago could have imagined that we would be sitting around a fire talking and praying together - or that I would find her "safe" enough to completely lose control in front of her.

Cindy D. mentioned at one point that she could tell just how raw I was.
Oh, I was so raw.... Everything was just "out there."
There was no way I could contain or hide how I was really feeling.

After Cindy D. left last night, I went back out to the fire for a bit more. I ended up on my knees, leaning my head on my arms on the seat of the other chair, sobbing again. It felt like the tears were never ending. I haven't been this raw in SO long.

Now, today, I am raw and aching too. I don't have anyone with me here tonight. I have the kids, but no other adult to relate to or to be with me through this day - and through this pain.

I have been in or near tears on and off all day.



I feel like there is more going on here than losing Henry and grieving this loss.

Angela said that she wondered if it triggered something deeper in me.

Cindy D. said that she really didn't feel comfortable with the idea of me not going back to see Tricia and canceling that appointment... even though Tricia had left it open ended.

I think after last night, both Angela and Cindy D. would stick by those thoughts and feelings.



I don't want to go back to church (on Sunday). I don't want to go back to work on Monday. I don't want to have anything to do with God right now, because He is opening up something and I don't know what it is and I DON'T WANT TO KNOW!

I want to run and stuff and forget. I don't want to feel this much any more. I know that's not healthy. I know that's not what God wants. I know that's going backwards. I just don't want to do it anymore.

I'm overwhelmed.

I feel like I can't even write coherently. Everything comes pouring out at once. I hope you can make sense of it.

My mind sure isn't making sense of it. I just don't get why Henry's death has affected me so much. I don't know why/if it would trigger something else. I feel dumb about going back to Tricia because I can't hardly put anything to words either here or in my journal. I don't understand, my brain can't wrap around what's gone on and what I am feeling.

It isn't logical. It doesn't make sense - and therefore, I guess most of me is saying that those emotions aren't valid.... whatever they are.

Yet, I still feel unraveled - like someone took a seam ripper and just tore me apart at all my seams. I feel like a stuffed animal that has been torn apart, all the stuffing and insides coming out.

I feel open and raw and exposed.
I don't feel safe or protected right now.

I need to feel safe and protected right now... and I feel like God isn't doing it right now, whether that's true or not, and so I want to protect myself instead of trusting.

It's just where I'm at.
Coming unraveled, ripped open, raw, exposed....

.... and scared.

Intertwined....

Maybe it is all intertwined and I haven't realized it fully till now.

I am still working through it, and processing here - but that may be it.

I was telling my counselor that since I got off my meds I was ok, but started working and after the new year, things started going downhill for me again. There were times I knew it was spiritual attack, and other times it was exhaustion or the activities I was involved in, etc. that were causing momentary stress, resulting in depression. But I figured that the depression started deepening on its own in January and February.

Hmm.. Look at what I realized.

End of January - Henry was diagnosed with cancer
Early February - Henry had surgery, and they discovered the extent of the cancer.
5 weeks later - Henry started chemo

And from there on, he progressively got worse.

A five month journey that ended in his homecoming.

Maybe the other things going on in my life caused the depression. Maybe I do have a chemical imbalance that I will always need to take anti-depressants. Maybe I have gifts that have weaknesses of depression.

"Maybe" it's all of those things combined.

I think now though all those things are intertwined with Henry's death. It's too much of a "coincidence" to be completely unrelated.


Everything is all intertwined. There is no escaping it.


I work at the church, and hear things that make me want to weep. I see the prayer requests that come across my desk. I feel the struggles the church is going through as a pastor leaves to start a church plant.

I am part of a small group who walked alongside a couple in their individual struggles with cancer. One survived her battle - the other survived too, but is in heaven waiting for us. The ache in all our hearts, the empty chair in our meetings, the shared tears last week at small group.... these all pull at my heart and emotions.

I live with my family, with a husband who works hard as a nurse in a particularly challenging area, who comes home wiped out, and still tries his best to engage with me and the kids. I have a son who is sensitive to others around him, and aware of the struggles of his family, even if not consciously. Who doesn't want to practice his reading to get ready for first grade, and who struggles with anxiety, generalized and specific at times. I also have a little girl who is becoming more stubborn and willful as the weeks go on.

I find myself wondering if I am doing my family a disservice by working, but right now, we need it.... and so I am torn between what I do, who I am, who I need to be, where I am needed and how do I balance all this stuff that is so intertwined with one another, I can't separate it.

I can see how all this stuff is working in my life, the added worries and pressures.... and the heartaches that I have for the "others" around me. They all put pressure on my heart and emotions. Any chemical imbalance or personal struggles add to the pressure.

I feel like a rubber band being stretched to, and beyond, it's limit. I am cringing, waiting for the snap and resulting sting of the impending breaking point being reached. And, I am wondering if God is going to let go of this rubber band and let it relax some and regain it's equilibrium before it's stretched again.

Or am I going to have to endure?

The snap.
The sting.
The break.

This time being stretched will I get the relief before it's too late?

Or is the snap, the sting and the break just what God wants for me - to remind me that He is God and I am not?

To be broken is to be healed. I know that. From experience. That healing is such a sweet release and relief.

And there are more threads that are intertwined. God using my past experiences of brokenness to help me during this time of loss and change and confusion and hurt.

I don't know if any of my questioning will help me "figure out" why I am depressed or better one day and not the next or why I feel numb when I do.


All these different things that I have experienced, or am experiencing are more than enough just on their own to pull me down. They do. If I'm not careful. But all combined and intertwined, all tangled in this sticky web I am in, I feel stuck and stretched and exhausted. I want to curl up and hibernate until these things are gone. But sleeping will not get me through them.



God, I don't know where this leaves me. I am so tired. I am so worn. I am stretched - to my breaking point, it feels. You say You are with me. You say You will sustain me. You say that You will guide me. Help me to choose You, rather than to run or block You out. For the sake of your name, lead me and guide me. All these things I have talked about are so intertwined around me God, and I know I will never figure them out on my own, and maybe I don't need to. But You see all the individual threads and the whole tapestry at the same time. Please keep you hand on me. I can't walk this road without You.... I can't stay on this road without Your hands holding me up.

** The above picture can be found at Mademoiselle Chaos.

I need my Papa

I need my Papa.
My Daddy.

My Abba Father.

I didn't realize how much, I guess.

I talked to a friend tonight. A friend that God restored to me. A friendship He restored and renewed for both of us, in His divine timing.

We talked, and the walls I had up during the day just crumbled near the end of our conversation. I could hear God's whisper in her words.

I started to cry. At first I think I was trying to hold it back. Then I couldn't anymore. She started to pray. I sobbed. She prayed that I would be able to climb up in God's lap and feel His arms around me, rocking me and telling me it's going to be ok.

I could just see it. God does that sometimes for me. He helps me visualize something, and it goes so deep....

I could see myself curled up in my Daddy's lap, clinging to Him as He rocked me back and forth in His arms.



Papa.
Papa!!
It hurts! It hurts so much. I don't know what to do with it. I hurt. Deep inside. It scares me. This depression and despair that crushes me down into bed in the morning, daring me to try to climb out of bed, much less take a deep breath.... It dogs my heels during the day, and rushes and jumps on me as I get more and more tired.
I fend it off by trying to stuff how I am feeling, how I am doing. But I know You know.
Daddy, I need to be held. I need You to hold me. I need to feel physical arms to hold me. I need You to strengthen me. My arms are feeble. My legs are weak. I am so weary, a deep, down inside, mind numbing weary. I can't do this anymore. I know You will in me. But sometimes I don't even have the strength of will left to even let You.
I need my Papa!
I need You. I ache for You... I am dry and weary and there is no water. I know that You hold me in Your arms. Papa, help me to cling to You, and You alone!



Oh to be able to literally feel myself rocked in His arms. The arms of my Daddy.

Henry was a father to me in many ways - a stand in for my own father who is 3 hours away from me. I am going to miss him so much. I know I will see Henry again. And maybe time will soften this blow.......

But right now....

I need my Papa.

Here and gone again...

Yesterday, I came to work and didn't know what to expect.

I walked in with more of a tender heart than I realized.

I spent my quiet time in the sanctuary, and found myself crying some - mostly out of empathy for Sandy. A little bit later in the morning, I found myself in one of my pastor's office crying there as he prayed for me.

I was raw all day.

At the end of the day I got to go see Sandy. I stopped in before I went out to get the kids from the farm. We talked. For nearly 2 hours.

It was good because I was finally able to share, at least a little bit, how I was doing, and how I felt about losing Henry. As we talked, we both cried on and off... but in the end she told me that it was so good to talk about Henry with someone else, and to know that she wasn't the only one here who was grieving.... even if her grief is much deeper and different than mine.

I think it was healing in a way for both of us.

Today, I was so tired when I got to work that I really wasn't feeling much of anything. Just was kind of wondering how this day was going to turn out.

As the day has gone on, I find myself questioning again why I went to see Tricia and if it really did any good. Questioning why I'm struggling so much. Questioning IF I really am struggling with anything other than depression.

The lies seep back in again.

"I should be stronger than this," I find myself saying.

I am so tired. I haven't been sleeping well, so I end up more tired the next day. It grows progressively worse.

I wrote in my journal earlier:

"Yup, most of my emotions are gone again, except probably anger at 'pat' sounding answers. Today I'm not ready to give up - not yet - but yesterday felt so freeing and today so restricted I can hardly stand it!"

I had the opportunity to get away this weekend. My mom gave me an open invitation to just come down and have some peace and quiet, even without the kids. I was ready to take her up on it. I still want to. However, now I can't find anyone to help me with the kids (to watch them) because family is all tied up - Dave included. So I either take them, or don't go at all... and just hope that my family can come up and visit sometime soon.

Maybe I'll be able to go still - God can always do that. But He knows what I need, and what will be the best for me, and the most restful and renewing.

I want to pull away and spend some time alone with God. Really meet with Him.

Yet, when I might get an hour here or there, I find myself running instead. I probably could have had a full "weekend of hours" in the past couple of weeks, if I had used them wisely instead of wasting them.

Now I have to go finish the rest of my day and hope that I can keep going as long as it takes.

God, help me through the rest of this day, because You know how close I am to giving up and quitting right now. Closer than I was earlier when I wrote. I think what exhausts me the most Lord, is the swinging between being emotional and not. The hits I take from the lies in between, I am too tired to fight them, and yet I am supposed to persevere. How, when it takes all I have to stay awake in this chair here? God, please help me make sense of this all - if not in my head, at least in my heart. Settle me. Keep hanging onto me. I don't feel You there - but You say You will not leave me. If I don't believe that, what in the world do I have left to believe and cling to?

I'm unplugged... with no outlet in sight

It was wonderful to see Tricia. It was so good to get a hug from her and catch up at least a little bit.

I basically ran down the last 8 months or so for her, just so that she could know some context of the depression, from going off my meds to starting to work, to getting hit this winter, to taking in a friend of ours for a while, to going back on meds, the acceleration of Henry's illness and his death.

She understood, I think, where I am at, and asked me why I wasn't allowing myself to cry. "Why stop yourself from crying?"

I don't know the answer.
I feel like I unplugged a power cord and now can't find the end of it, or the outlet to plug it into.

I find that I keep saying, "I can't."
But why?

The "I can't" will keep me going down that road and become "I shouldn't," or "I never."

Bottling won't help me.

I know that.
IN MY HEAD.

What about in my heart?
Why am I so afraid of feeling?
Why am I holding back?

I am angry with myself that I can't seem to just let go.

Tricia reminded me that it's OK not to cry, to not try to force the tears, but at the same time to not stop the tears either.

She is hoping that I won't need to come back in, that just one appointment with her as an objective outsider will be enough. But we scheduled an appointment out there in two weeks, just in case. If I need it, it's there, but if I don't I can cancel.

She said that she heard me mention that there were some things that I had wished I could tell Henry, that I just never got the opportunity, nor got the guts up to say when I did have the opportunity.

She suggested that I write a letter to him. Address it to him. A "no send" letter. She said that I process by writing, and write so well. (I haven't felt that lately) She said that it might really be helpful for me.

Tricia then saw the look on my face, and quickly said that I didn't have to do it if I didn't want to, but that it might help.

I don't know what my face looked like, but ALMOST..... I choked up a bit. I could feel the lump then, like I do now, but then it was gone. I think that might be what she responded to when she said I didn't have to write the letter.

I am praying that at some point, God will find the end of that power cord, the outlet, and plug it back in..... at the right time.

an elephant...

Oh boy, has my week been up and down!

Thursday was NOT a good day by any stretch of the imagination. I ran... as far and as fast as I could. I had the opportunity to spend a good chunk of time with God and I ran the other way.... totally the opposite direction. Oh, and I was so mad at myself for doing it. I knew I was doing it and couldn't or didn't or wasn't willing to stop myself.

Friday, I was numb again. I was exhausted. Thursday, I was anticipating time with God, then when I ran (probably in fear of any emotions) I got furious with myself. By Friday, I was back to numb again. I had nothin' for nobody.

Saturday, God's grace flowed over me. The kids didn't wake me up too early. They sat and watched some cartoons and snacked on cereal. I was able to sit in my bed, with my bible and journal and bible study spread out around me, with a hot latte at my elbow.

I had nearly an hour of time with God, at the end of which, I asked God to help me really be "present" with my children that day.

It was such a good day, and one we all needed.

Yesterday was draining, and thus, my mood tanked.

Worship at church was wonderful. However, I was alone at church with a 4yr old and 6yr old who kept asking me when we were leaving and if they could go to the farm.

They were pretty good in church. But we didn't get home until about 1:30pm, between the business meeting and potluck afterward. They were done in and so was I.

Thankfully, they wanted to play with play-doh, so I set them up and then collapsed on my bed. I was still in my church clothes but didn't care by that point. I curled up in a ball around a pillow with the blankets over me and didn't move.

Wanted to sleep but only was able to doze a bit between interruptions from the kids.
Wanted to cry the lump out of my throat, but nothing came when I tried to let go.
Wanted to stay in bed the rest of the day, but had to take care of the kids and prep for small group.

So, after they were done with their downtime, so was I. I got up, changed and got them outside to play.

After a while, because it was so hot, I set up the slip and slide for them and let them get wet and grassy. Dave took them inside to shower and dress while I built a fire for our small group.

Once I got active and into the day, I was ok. But I was still tired, and depressed. It really didn't lift too much. Hit me like a ton of bricks when I got home, and stayed there.

Once the kids were back outside with me, Dave escaped to do his "computer rounds" (he fixes other peoples computers for fun). Pete and Donna got there to join Sandy and I and the kids for hot dogs and s'mores. It was a good time of eating and talking around the fire, but as the night progressed, you could tell things were just heavy on all of us.

Peter and Donna had some hard news to share. I had hard news to share too, about my going to see Tricia again. Sandy didn't say much. But we know her hard stuff she is having to deal with.

It was a hard night. We want to come together to draw around each other and lift each other up, but right now, we are all hurting and aren't doing that very well.

It is an unspoken thing in our small group that we are all missing and hurting about Henry's death. It is the big elephant in the room that no one is talking about.

Sandy isn't in a place yet where she can recognize that others are missing him and hurting about his passing, because it is so overwhelming for her - she prays to go home and be with her sweetheart. Besides her children, she can't even take in anything else.

She was surprised when Cindy D. told her that I was having a hard time with Henry's death. She said to me privately last night that she didn't think that it would affect me so much.

Wouldn't affect me so much?

Henry and Sandy have been a part of my life for 6 years. They are family. I love them both. I miss him. I don't know how to deal with this. I don't know how to grieve. I don't know how to come alongside someone who is grieving.

Right now I may not be able to feel for myself, but I feel for the others in our small group. I hurt for Sandy who has lost her other half. I hurt for Peter and Donna who have lost a good friend of at least 20 years. I hurt for Henry and Sandy's kids who have been having to help Sandy go through all of his tools this past weekend.



I want to go see Tricia tonight.
I Don't want to go see Tricia to night.

Both.

I want to see her because I have missed her. I know she cares for me, and has my best at heart. We have history together, and she knows what I have been through. I know she will be able to help me and walk me through whatever "this thing" (whatever it is) is going to look like.

I don't want to see her because the lies are going on that I really don't need to be there. That my feelings aren't valid. That I shouldn't be struggling as much as I am. That I shouldn't have been struggling with depression ever since I got off the anti-depressant, and so my "fix" should just be the medication, not counseling!



When Sandy said that she was surprised Henry's death was affecting me so much, it made second guess my reaction to his death. It made me think that maybe I was just making all this stuff up, and perpetuated the lies I have succumbed to at times.

At the same time I know she was/is speaking out of a place of terrible loss. She can't comprehend or even attempt to take in others' loss compared to hers.


Hopefully I will be able to share some of this with Tricia tonight, with some sort of clarity. I don't know for sure if I will be able to. Please pray for me! There is so much more behind what I have shared here on my blog. I really don't even know where to start! Back at the beginning, but I don't even know what the beginning was!

But at least I have some of my writing back. That has dried up as my depression increased and my work load increased. Now there is something there that I have to get out, so I write.

Focused or not, I write.

Temper tantrum?

I think I am having a bit of a temper tantrum.

I HATE taking medication just to be able to think straight enough to type this, or to drive home!!

My anxiety is over-whelming me at the moment. I had to take something to calm down enough to get home without feeling sick to my stomach. Which has been happening all week....
... the being sick to my stomach part.

I have had bouts of nausea and thought it was a stomach bug. Then after it was still bad yesterday, on the advice of my doctor, I went to eat before I went back to work. I thought for sure I would get sick.

Imagine my surprise when I felt better!

That was when I knew that most of how I've been feeling physically is anxiety and depression related.

As I mentioned, I went to my doctor yesterday. We talked about all that has gone on with Henry passing away, and trying to deal with this "stuff" in the moment, and my relative numbness lately.

After talking for a while, he told me that if he increased my medications, or changed them, I wouldn't feel any different or get any benefit from them right now. He was very hesitant to change anything until I am out a little further from these events of the past few weeks.

Then he strongly suggested that I consider going to a counselor again.

Interestingly enough, as I had pulled into the parking lot yesterday, I found myself wondering if that was something that I should do, or when I would know it was the right time. Then I dismissed it with the thought that my doctor would know when it was time and that he would tell me what he thought.

Little did I know that I would hear what he thought in the next half hour.

Counseling again.

Well, I got back to work from my appointment. After getting something to eat, as requested. As I worked through the afternoon, I found that I was actually getting something accomplished, which was more than I had hoped for earlier in the day. When I got up that morning it was all I could do to get out of bed.

I eventually called my friend Cindy. I told her how the appointment went. And what my doctor had said about counseling.

After talking for a bit, she weighed in with her opinion. She thought it was a good idea, and reminded me that she is going to be gone for this whole next month. I'm not going to have her readily available to talk to, even though she will have her cell phone with her. She urged me to make the call.

I got off the phone and continued to work.

Then I got a call from my other friend, Cindy D. (Yes, there are two of them now.... so this "new to you" Cindy, will always be Cindy D. just to keep them straight!!!) :)

Anyway, as Cindy D. opened the conversation with me, she asked how I was doing.

Point blank, I responded, "I don't even know how to answer that question anymore."

It's the truth. I am depressed. I know that. But that's about all I know. I am frustrated with myself. I am anxious, to the point of almost having panic attacks. Other than that, I just don't know what to say. At all.

She wasn't put off by that, thankfully. She and I talked for a while, and I know she was treading carefully because she didn't want to step on my toes, or make me uncomfortable as this is a new friendship. But she was very kind and gracious. When I finally "broke" and told her about my doctor's appointment and his strong suggestion... she said to me that she agreed with him too.

We talked for a while longer, and she encouraged me a lot. She has been through some things in her past that helped her to recognize what I was going through and where I am at, whether I am able to describe it or not. To use her words, I am in shock still from Henry's death, and denial too, I suppose.

Did you know me, the empathy person, who can just about cry with anyone, can't cry now? I have wanted to. Felt the lump in my throat. Nothin's there. And the pressure's building.

Cindy D. was such an encouragement to me that after we got off the phone, I paced the church. I know that doesn't sound encouraging... but for me it was. I paced and came back to my office. I got up and paced some more. Came back and answered a couple of phone calls and tried to do some more work.

Then got up and paced some more.

Finally I found myself in the sanctuary, where I think God had wanted me all along.

I paced in there too.
I talked out loud. About calling a counselor. About what I should do. How logical it would be to go to one. How logical it would be to NOT go to one.

I kept pacing through the rows of chairs, keeping one eye on the sky cause a storm was coming.

I came back to my office and computer. Sat down. Then jumped up. It wasn't because of the clap of thunder that came then, I couldn't sit still.

I was pacing in the sanctuary again, and finally stopped and faced the front. Then I talked to God a bit, and felt like He was pressing on me to make the call.

I walked back to my office and with shaking hands dialed a number that I haven't called in over a year and a half.

"Charis Counseling, may I help you?"
"Um, yeah, I think. This is Heather Kudla. I used to be a patient of Tricia, and was wondering if she might have an opening for a new patient, well, for me in her schedule."
"She sure does, let me just pull your name back up..."

And so the conversation continued.

When I hung up, I had an appointment.

With Tricia. The same person I saw before. On Monday night.

Do you know what my Monday is going to look like?!?!

To get to this appointment, I have to leave work early, race home to the farm to get the kids and bring them into town for swimming lessons. Dave's mom is going to meet me there on her way through from work, and "take over" for me at the lessons, and I am going to race from the swimming pool, back up to Wausau for my appointment.... by 6pm.

This is totally nuts. I am traveling a half hour to spend a half hour with the kids before I turn back around and drive a half hour back into town.

I'm tempted to cancel, but if I did it would be another 2 weeks before I could get in to see her.

Oh, it will be good to see Tricia and get caught up. But I didn't want to get caught up in a counseling office, but rather over a cup of coffee or something, in a setting where we could be friends, not a counselor/client relationship.

Both my Cindy's reminders though keep coming back. I may just need this one appointment to have her help me get back on track. I may need more too. I don't know. I don't know anything.

I just know I haven't ever lost someone close to me. I have never gone through a grieving process in "real time" close to the source of the grief. I don't know what to expect. I fear my emotions, and when they might pop out, or what they might be like when they do.

I guess I need someone with counseling experience and the tools to really help me, walk through this with me.

Maybe that "temper tantrum" I mentioned at the beginning of my post really wasn't that at all. Maybe it was a bit of anger at the situation I am in, and at how I'm dealing with it, and how I'm relating to God through it too.

I still hate taking medication to calm down, but at least now I don't feel as sick to my stomach. And at least now, I have been able to write for the first time in a long while.

I have even found that I can't journal. It's been hard not having my writing. Things have piled up, I have a lot to do for work, and then a lot to do with my family. Writing has taken a back seat.

Thank you for bearing with me as I have vented.
Maybe my next post will be a bit more organized.
Maybe.
I'm not making any promises!

empty

Her voice was so empty today.

It broke my heart.

When she said it, I already knew it, because I knew that feeling I could sense in her voice, no matter what she said.

"I feel so empty."

All I could say was, "I know."

I don't know, really.
I don't know what it is to lose a spouse and feel that kind of empty, rattle around in a too quiet house.

But I know what it is to be so distant from someone that you feel like they are gone from your life. I know the emptiness that depression brings.

So maybe I know, just a little.

We were on the phone. I didn't have the time to go to her house to visit for the time that she needed, and get back to church for an evening meeting. So I had to settle for talking on the phone.

I wanted to give her the hug it seemed like she needed.

I don't know how to help her.

I want to help her.

At the same time I am hurting. I am sad. I am grieving too. Not in the same way she is. I have my own set of things going on too, that add to this new grief.

The memorial service was so wonderful this weekend. It was exactly as they had planned together before his death. It was a celebration of his life, the dignity of his death, and the anticipation he had of seeing Jesus.... the peace and joy that permeated the two of them those last weeks - even in the midst of tears.

The couple who always walked hand in hand are separated now for a while by death -- though he still lives -- they are separated, and she is longing for him and feeling so much like half of her is gone now.

As new as personally grieving is to me, so is walking with someone through their own grief. Much less walking with our small group together through this loss. Right now it's her, myself and one other couple, and a single young man who comes when he can.

My head hurts, my back hurts cause I am holding in all this tension. My stomach just aches. My throat has a big lump in it, but there are no tears to help relieve it all.

I want to run away, go hide somewhere, and really there is no where to go. Because I have to come back. I have a husband, children, a job, people counting on me.

I can't run away and hide somewhere alone. My husband already hardly has any activities outside of work and home. I have work and home, but also our small group once a week and am on worship team once a month. I can't run away and leave him with the kids, even for a day. I feel guilty. I have laundry a mile high I need to do, and other things around the house, and I don't want to do any of it. I just want to hide.... dive into a hole and pull it in behind me.

I want to ignore what happened this past weekend. Forget it and ignore it. I was able to today, until I talked to her.

In an email I wrote to the other couple in our small group I said that I feel dry, my prayers feel dry, and I feel like they are just a laundry list.

Yet at times, there is a little bit of comfort from His word. Just enough to keep me going. So that hopefully I won't feel so empty either.

Henry's gone to be with Jesus

I've never walked this path before.

Sunday evening, on a dark and rainy 4th of July, Henry passed away.

His children had left minutes before.
Sandy was alone with him.
For ten minutes.

Then he was gone.

Within a half hour Sandy had called all of our small group. She just said, "He's gone. I need you," and we were there with her.

Without saying much more, now I understand what it means when someone says that our body is just a shell - that this body is just a tent.


I've never walked this path before.


Henry's memorial service - a celebration of his life - will be held this Saturday, July 10th. I have been helping put together the memorial folders/cards for it. Assisting in any way I can to help the planning and execution of this go smoothly.


Again, I've never walked this path before.

I have never lost someone really this close to me. If Sandy is like a mom to me, and grandma to my kids, Henry was like a father in many ways to me, and grandpa to my kids.

I also realized yesterday, that I have never dealt with grief or loss in the moment. When bad things happened to me, or I experienced a loss of some kind, I stuffed it. I shut down my emotions. I ignored it. I ran from it. And eventually the pain faded into the background.

In counseling all that came out, one incident at a time, and I worked through those griefs and losses and wounds. But that was an intensive situation.... from past experiences, and so I felt like they were done and over pretty quickly.... if that makes sense.

But this.
This is something entirely different. I am having to walk through this in the moment, as an adult. I am having to do what is expected of me.... different responsibilities. That is fine. I am more than willing to do that.

But I don't know what it looks like to grieve.
I have never done that within the context of the situation - at the time it was happening.

I don't know what it looks like for me to grieve...... and then how do I help someone else too, like Sandy, or like the other members in our small group?

Monday I was so exhausted, I didn't want to even eat. I had a friend over, and she actually went out and got me something from a restaurant because I hadn't eaten pretty much all day, and she sat with me till I ate and until my husband came home from work. My emotions were mostly shut down - numb - in shock I think. I couldn't pray.

Yesterday, I had to come to work.

Still exhausted. Still numb.
But the numb started to alternate with emotions. It took me a while to identify them.

Some was hurt.
Some was anger.

When the church was quiet and I was the only one here, I went into the sanctuary. I didn't want to be there.... but felt drawn I guess. I still didn't feel like I could pray. But I started just talking out loud. Eventually yelling at God.

I sat down with a thud on the steps to the platform, still with my back to the cross, and said,
"Well, at least I'm talking to You now."

Then the tears.

And then they just shut off like someone shut off a faucet.

I pretty much stayed shut down and exhausted the rest of the day.

I feel sick to my stomach at the mere thought of food.
And am still shut down for the most part today - except for the big lump in my throat that won't go away.

And Sandy. I can't imagine what she is going through right now.
The ache of the loss must be unbearable.

She said today that she does something for a little while, and then her mind just blanks out, things get blurry and she just has to stop. That's a God thing, or she would overload herself.

We know that Henry is seeing Jesus face to face, seeing in full what we can only see in part, dimly now.

But we are grieving.
Please pray for Sandy and her son and daughter and two grand kids. Pray for our small group; we have been as close as family with them for at least 6 years. Pray for our church family who has had this couple as part of their body for over 30 years.

Pray for me as I try to process through this. Not having done this before, not having had experience in even being close to someone who has lost a loved one..... pray that I do the right things, say the right things, and that if I don't we all give grace to one another.

I don't want to take attention from Sandy and her needs. I don't want to --- I don't even know how to put it and it sounds selfish and stupid to see it typed out.

I just don't want to "do" this thing before me.... I don't know how to, or even what it looks like for me.... not how others think it should look like, but what God wants it to look like, or how He's created me to work through this as an individual.


I guess part of what it is, is this. I see that Sandy has lost someone, her other half of 47 years. Of course she is going to grieve and mourn. And it's about supporting her and being there for her through this current time, and through the coming weeks, months, years.

I don't think I have gotten past that too much to understanding that I have had a loss too. I mean, in my head, I understand that. But my heart and emotions are telling me to suck it up and to stuff it, and to set it aside because it's more important to help Sandy right now.

So, earlier in the post I can say, "I've never walked this path before" or that I have lost someone close to me, but it really doesn't register that it's a loss for me too. When I start to experience emotion about it, about Henry's death, I am fighting with myself because the instinct is to shut down. Mentally and emotionally.

As I am so infrequent in blogging in the past 8 months or so, I don't know who reads this anymore, but for those of you who do, please do pray for all of us. And, any thoughts you have to help me through this..... I would appreciate it, because the pat "Christian answers" just aren't cutting it for me.

strength and mourning...

The last few mornings I have been waking up and before I even step out of bed, between the snoozes, I have been praying.

It has been a really good way to wake up.

Through that, and trying to be intentional about praying in the car as I drive anywhere, my days have started out with prayer and worship.

God has been using these things, and others to build me up and strengthen me. I have been feeling a peace and a deeper sense of what I would call joy I guess.... even in the midst of depression.

My emotions have stabilized out somewhat.

To God be the glory, because I know where I was at about 3 weeks ago!

Now one of my dear friends, almost like a mother to me, Sandy, is facing losing her husband to colon cancer.

They have been through so much as a couple - I think I have mentioned them here before. Her husband, Henry is at home on hospice. He hasn't been eating or drinking much of anything. He had a really rough night last night.

This weekend the whole family was going to get together to celebrate some shared birthdays. However this morning Henry asked Sandy, in a clear moment, to call the kids and have them come today.

Sandy asked me to pray that once the kids got there to say goodbye, that things would happen quickly so that he would be free from this body, and pain.

They've been married 47 1/2 years.

I can't imagine what this is like - for either of them.

Now I realize why God has been strengthening me this week. So that I can walk alongside her, and our other friends who will be mourning our loss and Henry's gain... even if it doesn't come today, or tomorrow, or even this week....

Their most recent request that went out on the prayer chain follows.

"Please pray for Henry and Sandy who are gathered with their family. Pray that Henry will be able to be kept comfortable during this time. Please pray for the Lord's timing in Henry's life."

My heart aches for them.
And I am out of words.

Please join us all in prayer for them, and for their family.

On the road...
Heather