Author: Jennifer Deering

Wow! It’s been over 2 years since I’ve posted on here- and that last post was a doozy! It is, however, why I am posting today. We are starting to wrap up Mental Health Awareness Month, and it’s a great time to remind people to extend grace, be inclusive, be kind with your words and actions, speak up about your own feelings /emotions, and check on those you love and care about- even if they seem fine. Reread my last post and know that that could be you or a loved one at any moment in time- and that our mental healthcare system remains a joke. Be the person someone else needs- even if they don’t know they need you yet! Be the blanket to catch others as they fall when the system fails them. Also, take care of yourselves! You can’t help others if you don’t put on your oxygen mask first.

Overall, life is just like the title says. Ryan is in a great place. He was diagnosed with Autism shortly after his suicide attempt- and it has made ALL THE DIFFERENCE IN THE WORLD!! I have kicked myself senseless trying to figure out how I missed this when he was little- considering I’m a teacher and all- and I still don’t know. Things we thought were just anxiety or OCD or just Ryan quirks were actually symptoms of Autism…and symptoms of Autism mimic symptoms of anxiety, OCD, and such. Blaming myself was like being trapped on a hamster wheel with a hamster on stimulants; you just go round and round and get nowhere-but you end up feeling like sh&t. So, I stopped blaming myself and just embraced the diagnosis, just as Ryan has. It does explain so many things, thinking back. Ryan says he feels better knowing there is a reason for his brain working the way that it does- and he’s not crazy. Neurodivergent is the new word in our house because that is what he is…I am…and his sisters are. His dad, bless his heart, just loves us all and is a saint! Most people are neurodivergent in some regard. Neurotypical has been found to be a farce, something put out by society as a measure of some sort. Anyway, Ryan is doing great and is back to himself now. He still has his days, but he uses strategies he has learned over the years (who knew he was actually listening?!?) and his own research to handle them appropriately.

My oldest has moved to Maine since I last updated this blog. She hates it- even though she grew up and has family there. She said there’s not as much to do on a whim (true) and people are not generally as friendly (hmmm…not sure I agree with this one, but then again, I don’t interact with the people she does). She was a Maine State Trooper for a brief while, trying to follow in her grandfather and uncle’s footsteps. However, rural patrol was not her thing after being with CMPD- and she did not feel entirely safe being in the backwoods with no close back up. Long story short, she joined Portland PD and is starting to find her place there. Which means, she is starting to enjoy her job again. She has been dealing with some pretty major health issues, for which she cannot get answers, so that has been dragging on her a bit- as has home sickness. It’s been a lot for her and a lot for my mama heart. Thankfully, her grandparents have been helping me keep tabs on her. Hopefully, she is coming out on the other side of things.

My middle daughter is planning a wedding! It is exciting and she is enjoying the process, overall. We went dress shopping last weekend and she found THE ONE. Her excitement was tempered with her negative body image. I got all teary eyed when she was trying it on because she looked like a princess- but I could tell she was not loving her body in it. This girl wears her heart on her sleeve and always has. She has hated her body for years now, which breaks my mama heart. She is working hard to lose some weight before walking down the aisle, but I want her to do it for her- for her overall health, for her self-esteem, for her. On her wedding day, she is going to be the most beautiful person in that room- hands down, regardless of what the scale says! But society and it’s unrealistic expectations need to back off!

As a mother, you always carry your children’s cares, burdens, and joys and make them your own. Some days, it is hard! Other days, it is the absolute best! Always, I am so happy and proud that I can call those 3 humans mine. They are fabulous, caring, and strong people who make the world a better place- even if they don’t always realize it!

Overall, I am doing great! Things have been hard at times (see above), but life is good. I have a handle on my anxiety, more or less. Sometimes, like when I agree to attend something so far outside my comfort zone that I cannot even SEE it, I have to use every strategy in the book and still rely on my husband to peel me off the roof the car and stay with me throughout the entire event. Other times, I can hold my own by using one or two strategies. Sometimes, my brain leaves me alone and does what is supposed to. Other times, it tells me lies that have no grounding in reality but are very convincing (people are staring at you, your colleagues are annoyed with you, that child’s parent can’t stand you, admin doesn’t like what you are doing) and I have to use 2 or more strategies before I can talk myself down from a panic attack. Sometimes, someone can yell at me on the road and I can smile and just drive off. Other times, I replay what unfolded in my head from multiple angles to see if it was actually my fault. Sometimes, I can have conversations with people and walk away never to revisit it. Other times (ok, lots of times), I replay the conversation in my head over and over to make sure it went alright. Funny story…my husband once asked me what I was thinking about on the drive home from some social event. Let’s just say that he hasn’t asked since. I have anxiety and that will never go away; what has changed is my ability to handle oncoming panic attacks or to talk myself off a ledge 95% of the time. That’s pretty good, in my opinion.

I was thinking about my Love Language the other day (it’s a book- https://www.amazon.com/Love-Languages-Secret-that-Lasts/dp/080241) because I had a conversation with someone who brought it up. I had to read it for work once (there is a business one, but it’s the same idea). Anyway, my receiving love language is words of affirmation, which is why I am always looking for, well, words of affirmation all the time. My giving love language is acts of service- which is why I always want to do things for others, regardless of the circumstances or appropriateness. My goal is now to try to figure out other people’s love languages so that I can give them what they need- not what I need to give them. Just another thought on how I might support others’ mental health.

Body image is something I have struggled with pretty much since adolescence. I was a 3 sport varsity athlete back before social media, so one would not think it would have been an issue- and I don’t think it was a big one- but it was there. In middle school, a family member called me bubble butt in jest. I still remember it and how it made me feel. I graduated from high school 34 years ago next month (oh, how it pains me to write that), but I STILL remember that someone wrote cow in my yearbook with an arrow that pointed to me. They tried to erase it, but the damage was done. I wish I could be as skinny now as I was in high school…even though I thought I was fat then. Are women ever really happy with their body? I am currently the heaviest I have ever been…full stop. Menopause was like a 10 year ride around a candy shop with frequent stops. My hormones and feelings were all over the place- and I am, without a doubt, an emotional eater. While the hormones were doing their best to hijack my brain, my body decided that my metabolism needed a break from working so hard so it slowed down….or maybe stopped altogether at times, I really don’t know. I think I have finally hit the finish line, as my body is starting to feel like my own again in every respect. Hot flashes are holding on with all their might, but I now look at them as sparks of fat burning. LOL! Anyway, I started running again and was up to 4 miles every other day. When I can work out, I am INFINITELY less likely to eat poorly, as I didn’t do all that work for nothing. I lost about 20 pounds. Then, I went hiking, fractured 2 bones and tore my meniscus. I have probably eaten back at least 5-10 of those pounds. I am incredibly frustrated with my body, myself, and these &^%$ crutches, currently. I am hoping and praying that I will get off them in just a few days and walk out of the orthopedic surgeon’s office on my own 2 feet. At the same time, I am trying to mentally prepare myself for a bit more time on my arch nemeses. I am preparing to start working out again, though I know it is going to be slow going- and that is ok. I have had some time to think about this body of mine. At first, it was in a negative light- as in, I am embarrassed to be seen wearing most of my clothes right now. But then…then, I had some other thoughts:

1. This body allowed me to play all kinds of competitive sports and do all kinds of challenging things throughout my 51 years… and will continue to do so, regardless of my inability to sometimes put one foot in front of the other. Bahahaha!!
2. This body allowed me to carry and give birth to 3 pretty fabulous humans.
3. This body has carried me through some of my darkest days.
4. This body walked me down the aisle to marry my absolute favorite person on this earth.
5. This body allowed me to raise my 3 kids and give them a pretty awesome childhood.
6. This body has carried me through and healed some pretty gnarly injuries.
7. This body has remained healthy (more or less) even though I’ve not always taken such great care of it.
8. This body is aging pretty well, for all that it’s been through.
9. This body is pretty damn amazing for all that it is and does, but it is not ME. It is the shell that carries my soul, my brain, my feelings, and emotions- the real me.
10. This body might not be society’s idea of perfect- or even a doctor’s idea of perfect at the moment- but it is doing it’s job pretty damn well. Also- newsflash- my body is not going with when my time here is done. It is the vessel that holds ME right now..and overall, I kind of like me! 🙂

So, as Mental Health Awareness Month comes to a close, know this: You are loved. No one is perfect. Your body is your vessel; it’s what is on the inside that counts the most. You have something that this world needs that only YOU can give. Do not leave this world with whatever that is still inside you! Talk to God; ask Him for your purpose and live it to your fullest! Have fun with it! Life is a gift! Enjoy the ride! That person you look up to and wish to be like? They have their own issues and look up to some other misplaced idea of perfection. Don’t compare yourself to others! Do your thing! The world is more beautiful when we are our authentic selves. Find your tribe and be yourself! Always include others! Act with grace, as you have NO idea what other people are going through. Be humble! Trust in your path. May you be a light for others! All the things!!

I am thinking this will be my last post, as it costs an arm and a leg to keep this blog going, and I think it has served it’s purpose. I hope you’ve enjoyed the ride! Thanks for following along and encouraging me when I needed it. I also hope that this has served as an encouragement for others!

The majority of Wednesday, September 21st was like any other day. Mark and I drove into work together and I spent my day wrangling 22 five year olds. When he picked me up that afternoon, we had no idea how far our lives would unravel or how quickly. On the drive home, I got a text from my daughter in law telling me that Kaitlyn had witnessed a man commit suicide while working (as a CMPD police officer). Panicked, knowing how hard another death she witnessed a few months ago hit her, I reached out to my dad and brother for advice on what to say to her because I had no idea. Are there even words for that?? I also called Kait, but got no answer. I started to panic. As we were approaching home, she called back and said that she was doing fine. She saw it from a distance, knew that it was an adult making his own choice, and was not the one who had to render medical aid. She was ok. Phew. I felt like we had dodged a bullet.

As we pulled into our driveway, I commented to Mark that it was odd that Ryan’s car was there because he worked on Wednesdays usually. He was still recovering from Covid and has been dealing with stomach issues, so we thought maybe he called in sick- which is unusual for him, but understandable. When we got inside, I went up to his room, but he was sleeping so I went about my business. I heard him go into the bathroom, so I knocked on the door to ask if he was ok. I could tell by his response that something was off. He was not making sense and the door was locked. Panicked, I yelled to Mark to come get the door open. In the meantime, Ryan managed to get the door opened. He was standing in the dark. When I turned on the lights, I could see that something was not right. he immediately blurted out that he had tried to kill himself. My son had attempted suicide. Mark got him into his room as I called 911. Soon, the house filled with police officers, EMT’s, and firefighters. They were asking questions that only Ryan had the answers to. Ryan, who was quickly losing any ability to answer. After what seemed like forever, they loaded him up and drove him to the hospital with us following.

Wednesday night was probably the scariest of our lives. As it turned out, Ryan had overdosed on 96 Benedryl tablets. He spent the night with his heart racing at about 150 bpm (normal is 60-100), trying to get out of bed, and hallucinating. He had no idea who he was, where he was, or what was happening. At about 3 in the morning, he crashed- and slept for about 12 straight hours. At one point, we couldn’t even wake him up. Thankfully, he has no recollection of the ambulance ride or the first 24 hours in the hospital. He spent 5 days in ICU- though only 3 of those were medically necessary. He then spent another 4 days in a regular hospital room before being transported to a psych ward- where he has been since Thursday afternoon. Life has been, for lack of a better phrase, a shit show for the past week and a half. Ryan is mad at us, as he blames us for his being in the psych ward, even though the hospital also put him under an involuntary commitment order- not just us. It was the hospital psychiatrist who extended it- not us. Visits with him are hard. Everything is nailed down, we are watched, there is no physical contact, and Ryan spends the whole visit railing at me (Mark and I cannot go in together). Yet, we are grateful. Exhausted to our very bones, but grateful because we are frantically planning his outpatient treatment and not a funeral. We are updating far flung family on his progress, not the location of the funeral home and cemetery. We still have our son, when we very easily could not.

I have spent countless nights in the hospital and countless more laying in bed by myself (because Ryan wanted Mark to stay with him when we were told only one parent could be there overnight) thinking of where we went wrong. You see, this is not Ryan’s first visit to the looney bin, as he calls it. He was there 7 years ago when he had suicidal ideation. That is a fancy way of saying that he considered suicide, but didn’t really have a plan. Since then, there have been countless therapy visits, psychiatry visits, and talks. We have kept all medication hidden and keep close tabs on Ryan’s moods. We do not have guns in the house and hid all razor blades. We thought we were doing everything possible to keep him safe from himself. Even so, he managed to make a very good attempt on his life. He had a plan, wrote suicide notes, and carried it out. The only things that likely saved him were the fact that he ate lunch before swallowing all the pills- and we got home in time to call for help.

Why is he struggling so with mental illness? He has been diagnosed with anxiety, depression, and OCD. He has been medicated for years for those things. Why is he suddenly exhibiting symptoms that suggest something else entirely? What, in his upbringing, could have caused all this? That question, above all others, is what keeps me awake at night. Did moving to NC cause this? One of the reasons we moved was to get him away from a group of kids who bullied him relentlessly all through elementary school- but in doing so, we also took him away from family and friends. Is the bullying to blame? It probably has something to do with it. Ryan is brilliant and he has always thought in ways that were different from his peers. He has been in AIG classes since second grade. Down here, that meant he was on that track for all classes, so he stuck out. Did that put too much pressure on him? Did we put too much pressure on him? Are my body image issues to blame for his body image issues? Is it just genetic? After all, there is mental illness on all sides of the family tree. I don’t have an answer. I think the answer lies somewhere in the midst of it all. Are there things I would do differently in raising him? Yes- I would do things differently in raising all three kids, but that is a normal thing, right? As you get older, you get wiser and learn to see things differently. I would like to think, however, that our kids will all look back on their childhoods fondly, as we honestly tried our best.

It has been hard this week to see everyone living their lives as though everything is normal, when our lives are anything but. It has been hard for the past couple of years to see Ryan’s friends go off to college and build lives for themselves, while he is struggling and has only been taking classes off and on. It has been hard to put a smile on my face and pretend life is a bowl of cherries when the struggle is real. BUT…. I am not dying, like a friend I have known since kindergarten. I have not had to bury a child, like a friend from Maine has. I have not had to bury a parent, like so many of my friends. I have not lost my home to a natural disaster like so many in Florida and South Carolina. I am lucky. I am blessed. I know this to be true. However, it is still hard to navigate this reality at times.

I have learned some things in this short period of time. I have learned that our health care system is in shambles. Our mental health system is BROKEN- if you can even call it a system at all. Let me share with you some frustrations. Ryan has OCD and is very much a germaphobe. He was not allowed to shower for 5 days after his overdose because the hospital could not find him a bed on a regular floor- only his doctor found 4 such beds and finally got him moved after taking it upon himself to ignore the upper management’s words. Ryan has had stomach/intestinal issues and anxiety. He could not use the bathroom with any privacy until he got to the psych ward (ironically). He has a dairy allergy- yet his hospital food ALWAYS included dairy products…but no salt because for some reason, he was on a reduced sodium diet (which he wasn’t…it was a screw up on the hospital’s part)- and no matter how many times we shared this with nurses it never changed- FOR 9 DAYS. He was transported to the psych ward in the back of someone’s dirty Dodge Charger…in a cage. He had no shoes and the only toiletry he had was a toothbrush. They gave us no information on where he was going or how to reach him when he got there; we were told to wait for a phone call from him. He received NO mental health services in the 9 days he was in the hospital, though they did wean him off his antidepressant and give him a mood stabilizer. WTH?!? It was like something out of a horror movie. I spent the better part of yesterday trying to get him into a private facility where he can be treated like a human being- not some caged animal- and actually get treatment, which would include a diagnosis, appropriate meds, and coping strategies for when life decides to throw shade your way. Our first choice cannot get him in for one and a half to two weeks…and that time period starts after they get this medical records- which we cannot get released without jumping through a number of inane bureaucratic hoops. And yesterday was Friday, which means the person I have to email the signed forms to will not see them until Monday- and then she has to pass them onto a committee who will decide whether or not to release the records to the facilities we are requesting for continued care. So, who knows how long that all will take. Meanwhile, our son is languishing in what is essentially a prison (though, I am pretty sure, prisoners have more rights). He is turning into someone we don’t even recognize- and he has only been there since Thursday afternoon. In the meantime, I called today to beg both facilities to please hold his spot because we are trying to get them the necessary records but the speed with which it happens is out of our hands- and the need for those facilities outpaces the number of facilities available. Even after they get the records, it is up to their teams of doctors to decide whether or not they can/will treat Ryan. If they decide not to, I am not sure what our next steps will be. We are doing everything in our power to get him the help he needs to get a proper diagnosis, the right meds, and the chance at a happy, productive life….and we just get hit with one hurdle after another. We will keep jumping those hurdles, as we have no choice, but they shouldn’t be there. It should not be this hard to get mental health help for someone in crisis. The hospital system should not make people worse because they are covering their own butts with stupid rules and bureaucratic red tape. Thank the good Lord Almighty that we have insurance because we would not even be able to CONSIDER the private facilities if we did not. Also, I am so grateful that God had the foresight to put me back into a teaching position (even though I did so kicking and screaming) because my income will cover the costs not covered by insurance. We are going to be ok financially- but what about those without great jobs or insurance? THERE IS NO HELP FOR THEM AND THAT IS WRONG ON SO MANY LEVELS.

Please advocate for health care for all. Please advocate for mental health care for all. We are not a third world country. We are a world leader- this should not be something that we have to fight for, but here we are. Until you have seen, up close and personal, how this system works, don’t even talk to me about how it is not all that bad. The next time you see a homeless person, know that that person was probably one medical crisis away from a job, a home, and food- yet they were pushed over the brink by our inept, unfair, and totally illogical medical system. ..and you or someone you love could easily be next.

I am sharing all this for two reasons. First of all, we need all the prayers we can get. We need prayers that Ryan will get the proper diagnosis, medication, and treatment. Ryan needs prayers to stay strong while in the psych ward. We need prayers that we can quickly cut through all the red tape and get him placed appropriately. Mark and I need prayers that we can hold it all together while navigating this latest detour because life goes on and other things happen that also need our attention. The second reason is to bring attention to the mental health crisis that is all around us- but ignored until it becomes a part of your world. I will always fight to end bullying (because I do think it causes mental health issues). I will always fight for equitable, helpful, humane treatment for anyone with mental health issues. I will always advocate for people to check in on loved ones and know that they may not be ok- even if they say they are. I am not looking for pity with this post. I am looking for advocates. See something, say something. Follow the news and speak up about health care issues. Be a much needed voice. Raise money for suicide prevention. Support those causes. Be a ray of sunlight to someone in a storm. Be a helping hand to someone in crisis. Be the kind of person you want others to be. Be the light for someone in the dark- and hug your loved ones tight. God bless!

The last month or so has been a bit of a wild ride, emotionally. I feel like most days I am up, but, man, there have been SO MANY sleepless nights. Some of those nights are because I lay in bed with my mind going 800 mph, unable to fall asleep, and some of those nights are because I have nightmares that wake me up in a cold sweat…which then make me lay there with my mind going 800 mph, unable to go back to sleep. And I am someone who needs my sleep! As a result, I have been on edge- constantly.

The school year with my first graders ended today- and with that comes a sense of relief. I have not been with them since March 4th, but I have felt guilty every day since then. I have felt guilty for adding things to the plates of my already overwhelmed colleagues. I have felt guilty for abandoning my class (though I knew they had my rockstar TA leading them to a successful end of the school year). I have felt guilty to the parents of those kiddos, as their kindergarten year didn’t go smoothly, thanks to Covid- and then their first grade year didn’t, thanks to their teacher leaving in March. I know I did what I had to do for my family and for myself, but the guilt was still present. Now, hopefully, I can let that guilt go. They finished the year successful (again, thanks to my amazing TA) and can enjoy their summer break, ready for second grade.

There have been health concerns of people I love- and then my uncle died of cancer. May was not a banner month in those regards. 🤦‍♀️ He is my first aunt or uncle to pass away, so I find myself in new territory. How do I support my cousins? How do I support my aunt? IDK. My son continues to struggle with gastrointestinal issues and now weighs less than his freshman year of high school…and his gastroenterologist is suggesting it could be a mental health issue. While I disagree- and some recent testing supports my feeling, it is too early to tell. Hopefully, we get answers this month. How do I fix my people? How do I heal broken hearts or tangled minds? How do I provide support to people who need it who live so far away? Again, IDK.

I have tried, my entire life, to make people happy. I wanted to make my parents happy and proud growing up. I wanted to make my cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents happy. I wanted to make my friends happy. I wanted to make my teachers happy. I wanted to make my husband and kids happy. I wanted to make my bosses happy. I wanted to make my students and their parents happy. You get the idea. For the longest time, I really thought was the way of the world. Shouldn’t everyone be doing this so we all can be happy?!? 🤷‍♀️ I have learned, through years of therapy, that this is not a healthy way to be. You cannot be responsible for other people’s happiness. You cannot make other people like you- no matter how hard you try. Everyone has their own baggage and way of looking at things…over which you have zero control. Everyone has their own moral code or belief system…again, that you cannot control. It is what it is. I have tried, over the past 4 years, to stop doing this- and I have had success at times, but I always fall back into this habit. WHY?!? This is a question that I wrestle with. Just when I think I’ve overcome that need, something reminds me that I haven’t. Let me give you an example. On Tuesday, I was grocery shopping (which ranks right up there with having my toenails pulled out one by one, but I digress). I was waiting behind this man who was literally picking up every single large ham in the casing, examining it, putting it aside, and moving onto the next one. Impatient, I reached around him and grabbed the pork chops I needed. Then I quickly grabbed a bag just over and to the right of his head and started to put the meat into the bag. He turned around and said (somewhat angrily, but politely), “Ma’am, do you mind not getting into my space, PLEASE.” I apologized (because he was right, of course) and quickly turned around, fighting tears and trying to put as much distance as possible between me and him. This was a total freaking stranger-and I was upset that he was upset with me. What the actual F*&k? The rest of the trip, I replayed what he said in my head over and over again…and did so again that night. Which then led me to think WTH is wrong with me that I can get that upset by some random person’s comment- to the point where I could picture his face and repeat the words he said verbatim while laying in bed a good 8 hours later? That is a question I will be asking my therapist next week (gotta’ make her earn that $$$), BUT….in the meantime, I bought a book about being a highly sensitive person and how to make that work to my advantage. As I’ve been reading it, I’ve been amazed at how much it echoes with me. It is not a weakness; it is a valuable trait that is needed in this world…or so the book tells me. 🤪

I know I am skipping around here, but bear with me. Last month, I posted something about LGBTQ+ rights. I had people that I considered friends “unfriend’ me on FB- and one will not even respond to my texts. So, of course, that has weighed heavily on my mind…and been replayed over and over and over again. I think I came on too strong. I would like to brush it off and not care, but I do. UGH! Here is the thing, though. The issue affects two of my children and more than a handful of my friends. So, I did what I always do when I start to second guess my stance on things- I read and researched. I have read 3 books on being transgender (since that is a red button issue right now), a number of books on religion, and one book on being gay in the church. (Reading is my number one hobby, in case you couldn’t tell- followed closely by napping. HA!) Here is what I have learned. NO ONE wants to be part of the LGBTQ+ community. NO ONE sits down and thinks, you know, I think I will become something that will make me marginalized in my community, looked down upon in my church, and can, potentially, get me thrown out of my family. People in this community have-by far- higher rates of suicide and self harm than the general population. I wonder why. (That is sarcasm.) News Flash: People who are part of the LGBTQ+ community are born that way…and then bring those who care about them into the community with them to be their supports. There is science that backs this up. Peer-reviewed studies, put out by reputable organizations. News Flash #2: The people who pull verses out of the bible saying that they prove God abhors homosexuality are not looking historically at the time in which a lot of the bible was written. Did you know that the term homosexuality was not even IN THE BIBLE until the 20th century, when interpreters put it in there. In biblical times, it was expected that people would be in a monogamous relationship….not sleeping around- and when God was angry with men sleeping with men, it was because those same men were sleeping with women- hence they were not being monogamous. I am not going to get into all of this in this blog post because everyone needs to do their own research. However, after doing my own, I realized that I am not going to apologize for speaking up for the oppressed- not as a Jesus follower, not as a citizen of this country, not as a friend, and certainly not as a mother. In my online devotional today, there was the following quote: “I know Jesus loves justice; we serve a God who cares about the oppressed and those who feel they don’t have a voice, so I think it is important for me as a Christian to be a part of the discussions and the groups seeking change…” I could not agree more- even if it will make me anxious to anger some of my friends and family.

I think being a Christian is tricky right now (see my last blog post). I love Jesus with all of my being, and I strive to live as He has taught. I could definitely do better, and I constantly ask Him to fill me with his Holy Spirit and to rid me of those thoughts that go against his teachings. I cannot, however, bring myself to go back to church. Not only that, but I have friends and family who are staunch conservative Christians who disagree with how I view Jesus’s teachings and I think I’ve ticked them off. What is a girl to do? This girl tries to smooth the waters by not being provocative on social media (at least not every day…). But then, my anxious brain thinks in loops: Aren’t you supposed to shine Jesus’s light and love? Aren’t you supposed to spread His word? Yes, but when I do, I feel attacked by friends and family who tell me I am wrong. Maybe they are right? No, Jesus gravitated towards the oppressed; He was their voice. Yes, but these people have more “church going time ” than me- surely they know better? What about people who are your friends on FB, but that you’re not close with? What will THEY think? Will you scare them away? Does it matter? Aren’t you supposed to speak your truth? And round and round it goes until I just collapse under the weight of my thoughts. Like I said, this month has been a wild ride.

Everything I have written here ties in together. It is all about wanting to make others happy, feeling guilty when I do the opposite, and letting it bring me down to the point of questioning myself- constantly. Man, I feel like the weight of the world has lifted just writing this all down. Things have become clearer just spelling it all out. Whew! I need to do what is best for myself and my family, while turning more and more towards Jesus. I need to continue to read God’s words and examine their meanings while asking Him for guidance. I need to not let this world, and all its corrupt thinking, get to me. I need to love on those who need the love, lean on those who I trust will hold me up, and prop up those who need propping. I need to live what I preach and understand that if someone turns their back on me, no matter how I felt about them, they are not my people.

Find your people. Find your tribe. Find your happiness. Also, thank those people who have propped you up. Thank those who are in your tribe. Let them know how much you appreciate them because everyone struggles and could use encouragement; some just struggle more than others. Shower grace like confetti. Let people’s anger wash over you (unless you were wrong….then apologize) and move on. Talk to people you trust. Bounce things off from them. You don’t have to agree with everything your people say, but you can still care about them; they can still be your people. Shine your light and don’t let this world dim it. Shed the weight of other’s opinions- and when you figure out how to do that, let me know. 😉. Happy summer, peeps!

I did not grow up in the church. For various reasons, my family just didn’t go. It is not that we didn’t have faith; we just didn’t talk about or celebrate it. I would occasionally tag along with a friend or go with my grandmother, but nothing consistent. It didn’t really bother me much growing up, but as I entered adulthood, I found myself drawn into the church. There were many reasons for this, but those are not important right now. What is important is that I started going regularly a little over 20 years ago. It has not been a smooth ride, but it is one that I felt was important for our kids and for myself. Now? I’m not so sure.

The first time my faith was shaken was when our oldest was in high school and came out as gay to us. Mark and I were both raised to be kind and accepting to everyone- and we passed that onto our children- so we were ill equipped for the judgement that would be thrown our way. Imagine our horror as we sat in church one Sunday morning shortly thereafter with our oldest two (while our youngest was in Sunday school) and heard a sermon about how all homosexuals are going to hell. I still remember feeling like I had been hit in the chest with a hammer- and my oldest looked like she had seen a ghost. God is our Father- how could He say that to his children? Turns out, He didn’t; that was the pastor’s interpretation. Needless to say, that was the last time she set foot in a church without being bribed by me- even though she had been actively involved in church for the past few years. That was also the last time any of us attended that church. Strike one.

Fast forward about 5 years. Mark had had it with the cold, snow, and ice, so we moved below the Mason/Dixon Line to North Carolina. We found a church we loved, with people who (we thought) accepted our family for who we were. We did not try to hide anything from anyone. Occasionally, I managed to convince my oldest to join us at church (like on Christmas and Easter), but she was never comfortable. When a certain person became president, things started to get dicey for the LGBTQ community. Our oldest was suddenly nervous that her right to marry was going to be taken away from her, so she and her girlfriend decided to have a small wedding. Our pastor could not marry them, per Methodist doctrine. Hmmm…. Strike Two.

Sometimes, I find myself checking the calendar to make sure that it is, in fact, 2022 and not, say, 1952. Every time I look at my news feed, I hear about the need to stop immigration because they are dirty, immoral people. I hear about the “Red Wall” fighting for our country. I hear about Rowe vs. Wade, book burnings, and the fight to keep racial reconciliation out of public places. I read about how LGBTQ rights are infringing on the rights of Christians. On FB, I read (from someone I love deeply) that this country was founded on Christian principles and should remain a country of Christianity- even though we now have so many other religions and beliefs to represent. I could go on. What I hear is this: White, straight, Christian people (especially men) are the “norm” and their doctrine should be the one pushed on everyone, regardless of background, need, or beliefs. If you do not fall within those demographics, you are lesser than. Your beliefs and rights do not matter. Christianity is the RIGHT way; all others are wrong. As a white, straight, Christian person, you would think I would be ecstatic, right? I’m not. Strike Three.

My faith in God and Jesus is STRONG. I talk to Him all…the…time. I ask Him to help me to understand these times and the hearts of those leading us. I ask Him to help me to live the life he designed me for. I ask Him help me love my neighbors- all of my neighbors. I ask Him to help me live according to His teachings. I believe in and trust God. My faith and trust in the church, run by humans, is hanging tenuously by a thread.

People are using their interpretations of various verses, books, chapters in the bible to justify their push for laws that stigmatize and marginalize people based on sex, religion, nationality, sexuality, and beliefs. They have to categorize people so they can separate themselves (and their sins) from those other people (and their sins). I actually had a conversation this summer with someone who referred to homosexuals as “those people.” 😳 I look at how Jesus lived and wonder how all these people, groups, and churches justify this behavior. The vocal ones will tell you they know because the Bible says so. Well, here’s the thing about that. Depending on which lens of Christianity you are looking through, we are saved through Jesus’ resurrection OR we are saved by following the Ten Commandments…or a combination of both. Again, it depends on who you ask. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John all tell the same story of Jesus, but key parts of each of the stories are different. How do you reconcile that? Some people interpret that one way and others interpret it another way. How do you know which is the right way? Is there a right way? I am no longer clear on that. I’ve been reading lots of books from theologians (as has Mark) and they leave me more confused than ever.

Here is where I am at. God commands us to love Him with all of our hearts, minds, bodies, and spirits and to love our neighbors. Those are the top 2 things He tells us to do. I don’t feel like the Church is living up to that. Others will say differently. I am not arguing because I don’t know. I know that I am trying to live by those two things, along with the 10 commandments He set forth (with more success some days than others). I am trying to live like Jesus- loving and accepting my fellow human (again, I am a work in progress). We are all on this ride together. I have friends who are atheists, agnostics, Buddhists, Southern Baptists, Methodists, Jewish, and everything in between. My friends are gay, straight, trans, black, white, hispanic. And you know what? It matters not to me. As long as they are good people, I want them in my life. I don’t care if they bow down to an alien from Mars as their deity. As long as they are good, loving people, they are my people. Do you know why? Because it is not my job to decide whose religion is “THE” religion. It is not my job to decide which sex is superior or which groups should be marginalized. It is my job to point people to the gospel- but not MY interpretation of it; I believe that’s between God and His children. We are all doing our best to live this life in the most positive, affirming way possible with what we know. Why do we need to make it harder for anyone?

I am writing this because I am currently in a faith funk. I am trying to navigate my way through this. We need to find a new church, now that we’ve moved to a new town (ok, a year ago), but I am scared and more than a little leery. I am not shopping for a church that fits my beliefs. I am trying to find an inclusive church that meets EVERYONE with a smile, a handshake, and an understanding that we are all sinners in need of His grace and mercy. I want to find a church where people don’t hide behind their faith, pretending to live a life like Jesus, while pushing for the persecution of and gossiping about others. I don’t want to be at a church that believes one sinner is less than another. I want to find a church where I can feel comfortable introducing people to my whole family. I want to feel loved and accepted for who I am and who my family is- without having to worry about the church turning its back on us.

I am NOT writing this to judge others. I am just sharing where I am and hoping that it helps others to feel that they are not alone in their thinking. To be honest, I don’t know what is right and what is not. I don’t know what God wants me to do- or not do- for sure. I am not sure if I trust that the Bible is really God’s word…or if it is the interpretation of God’s words. I am not sure if I will go to Heaven or Hell when I die- or, as the book of Revelations tells us, God will bring Heaven to earth…and I’m in limbo land in the meantime. I am sure that I am doing the best I can with what I know. I am sure that I am talking with God- a lot- every day and trying to follow His direction. I am sure that I am trying to live as Jesus did (though I have a LONG way to go). I am sure that I have a moral compass that I feel inclined to follow, even if it turns people away from me. Faith is having a belief in what you cannot see. None of us know for certain what to expect when we die. We BELIEVE we know, but do we really? God did not sit down and write the Bible. People did. Bible scholars will tell you that. So, we have to have faith that what is in there is true. We have to discern what the meaning is. But to discern is to use our human lens…and that is where I am struggling with the church.

So, there you have it. My current thoughts. I am reading some books by Rachel Held Evans right now- and it is as though she read my mind. It is so validating. If, like me, you are struggling in this current climate, you might pick up a book or two of hers. She was raised in an evangelical church, went to a bible college, and still struggled with her faith as an adult- for the very reasons I am struggling now. Sadly (or maybe not- depending on how you look at things), she died suddenly in 2019 at the age of 37. I would love to read her blog about these most current times! Here is what I know: God is good and He weaves everything together for good. Some day, we will see how it all goes together. Right now, we have to trust Him and do what we believe He is leading us to do. I feel a nudge to put this out there because I want to draw people closer to our loving God and some are feeling pushed away. No judgement; only love because do any of us really know what we’re doing?!? 🤪

If you have followed my blog for any length of time, you know that I resigned from my first grade teaching position in March after 25 years in education. At the time, I had to do it for my mental health. I had a parent who was making my life a living nightmare and an admin team that I felt was not supporting me in what needed to be done. I was coming home in tears more days than not- and had to run upstairs every day that last week of school because I was physically ill. Stick a fork in me; I was done!

Fast forward 6 weeks and I find myself about to enter a new field- albeit still with children (because they totally rock!). I spent all of last week interviewing and ended the week with 4 job offers. One of them was as a first grade teaching assistant at a charter school. As I was interviewing, the team asked me if I wanted to teach first grade there next year. I will admit, their school sounded amazing and a lot less stressful than the one I left. However, I knew I could not do that- but I was very much interested in the TA position…or so I thought.

Let me tell you something. I have trauma- that’s right, trauma- from the position I left in March. I still have nightmares about my time there- literally…most nights, though they are lessening now. It was not all bad, of course. My class of students was amazing and my colleagues were great. However, there was a lot of pressure to constantly examine data, decide the why behind it, and move the kids forward faster. Covid resulted in kids being out for a week or more at a time for the first few months…and their kindergarten year was just a cluster…but we were expected to get those kids on grade level, regardless. We were expected to meet parents where they were and work with them- even if what they were requesting was unreasonable. We were expected to meet with our lowest kids’ parents every 6 weeks; that is a lot of meetings when 80% of your class came in below grade level. I am a people pleaser and always have been. Though I am working on it, that need to please everyone ate me alive this year. I felt like I could never please the parents enough, the principal enough, my team enough. I am not going to get into details, but my need to please people, coupled with a principal who was incredibly busy and not very affirming, left me questioning my abilities, my knowledge and experience, my sanity. I spent the first week after leaving pretty much napping all the time. I spent the 3 weeks after that getting myself back together mentally. It wasn’t until about week 5 that I felt like myself again.

Back to my job story. So, here we are 6 weeks out, and I was given a very generous offer for a TA position at a great charter school in Charlotte. I also got two generous offers to teach preschool and one to be a daycare provider for toddlers. I took the toddler position and here is why. I do not want to go back to the elementary school setting. I can’t; the actual thought makes me feel all panicky inside. I didn’t take the preschool positions because they have a set curriculum and expect you to teach it and meet with parents regularly to discuss student progress. Again, I couldn’t do it. I thought about it…but then I was offered the toddler position, which is right up my alley! Yes, there is a curriculum…but it is a play-based, developmentally appropriate curriculum. I am not meeting with parents to discuss student progress. I am not labeling kids “below grade level” because they are developing at a slightly slower pace than their peers. I am simply hanging out with kids all day and helping them develop their social/emotional and pre-academic skills. I cannot tell you how excited I am for that!

Another sign of trauma: I went to my former school today to pick up a book I had lent to the principal awhile back. I felt all panicky as I drove in the door yard and just hoped that only 1 person was in the office and that the book was there so I could run in and out in under a minute. When I got back in the car, I felt nauseous…and so relieved to have seen only friendly faces when I ran in.

I am telling you all this for a reason. If you are constantly feeling overwhelmed and dread going into work, it might be time to consider a new job- or maybe a new profession. If you had told me even 5 years ago that I would leave teaching, I would have laughed hysterically because I have wanted to be a teacher since I was a kid. However, the profession is not what it was when I started and the school I landed in was not a good match for me. I was constantly second guessing myself, working myself to the point of exhaustion and to the detriment of my family, and trying my darnedest to make everyone happy. By the time I left, I was a train wreck. Don’t wait that long! It is scary to step out on a limb and do what you know in your heart is best for YOU and your family. It is! People judge you. You question yourself and your choices. You panic at the lack of income coming in. The list goes on. However, trust yourself and God; know that you will land on your feet- He will make sure of it. Sometimes, that one step is the one that sets you free.

As I have said a million times before, you also need to stop trying to please other people. Sure, you want to be kind and humble, hard working and trustworthy. But, you will never please everyone- and that is not on you. People have opinions of you based on their own life experiences and what they know of you; most times, those opinions are ill-informed, at best. Just go out and be you. Do what makes you happy. Make your corner of the world a little brighter. Love on your family and friends.

Finally, know that your job is just that- a job. When you leave, those in charge and your colleagues will not think twice about you…trust me. Life is too short to stay in a position that makes you stressed out all the time. And if you stay too long, it can have longer lasting impacts than you might think. Suddenly veering from the path that you have followed for 10, 20, 30 years is scary- but God has plans for you, if only you will take the time to listen.

**And if you know a teacher, please shower them with love next month for Teacher Appreciation because they are NOT ok.

This is a time of new beginnings, as I have closed one door and am waiting for a new one to open. Normally, I would think this time of waiting would have me stressed out, but, instead, I am finding peace in the transition. This surprises me, really. I thought I would have feelings of regret, longing, despair, panic- you name it…but, as I sit out on the back porch listening to peepers and writing, I only have peace. Hmmm. For someone with serious anxiety, that is a pretty amazing thing!

Let me start with the door I closed. For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to be a teacher. I used to sit my somewhat unwilling younger brother down during the summers and “teach” him. He was my first student…and behavior issue- ha! Right out of college, I worked in preschools for a bit, but I really wanted my own elementary classroom. I got my chance when I took over for a first grade teacher who left at Christmas break in 2000 (oh the irony…). I took the reigns of that class and never looked back. I LOVED everything about teaching and grew into an accomplished teacher. Along the way, I earned my master’s degree and continued to sharpen my tools and hone my skills. My light grew brighter and brighter as I reached new heights, got new accolades, learned new skills, helped new kids, met amazing educators, and continued to grow. In 2019/20, the light seemed to dim a bit, so I decided to try coaching. It wasn’t the kids or teaching dimming my light; it was the testing, the paperwork, and the unending to-do list. Coaching was a transformative experience, but…. I stepped back into the classroom because I learned some new things about literacy last year that I was dying to try out with a new batch of learners. It was a struggle from the start, but I was striving to be better each and every day. I was giving it my all…until that light, the one that I kept pushing to burn brighter and brighter, burnt out in spectacular fashion- and I closed the door on my successful 22+ year teaching career.

The amazing part was not that the light burnt out because, let’s face it, it was bound to happen; one cannot give their whole being to one thing (their passion)- and expect to survive. The amazing part is that I am not sad about it. In fact, I am excited to see what door opens next. I have had some other feelings. I have felt ashamed at having left my class with three months to go. I have felt embarrassed that I could not see things through to the end. I have felt like I let my class, their parents, my admin, and my team down. I have felt let down myself. I have felt frustration that I could not be truthful with parents and colleagues, but also understanding that things had to be this way. I have felt- and continue to feel- left out when I watch fun things happening at my school and I’m not there to participate. I feel somewhat lonely, as most of my friends work- largely in the field of education. I am entitled to have all those feelings and they are valid….but they also only look at things through my lens and are not productive to moving forward. I am not camped out in them and have moved on from most of them. The door is cracking open…

I have been home for almost two weeks now. I still haven’t unpacked the few boxes of things that I brought home from school on my last day as a teacher. There are two reasons for this. First of all, I am not ready. I am not quite sure what I will need and what I won’t; what I want to keep and what I don’t. Second, and most importantly, I have been taking this time to nurture myself and my family. This school year has been HARD and it caused me to rearrange my priorities while letting my anxiety build to the point where I was coming home from school and heading right up to the bathroom to, ahem, let my anxiety out. At first, it was maybe once a week. Towards the end, it was daily. My anxiety was telling me that I was not good enough. I was never going to please my principal. I was never going to please the parents…one or two in particular. I was never going to get these babies on grade level when they came in a year- or more- below. I was never going to fit the picture that some of my colleagues had of me. I was never going to fit in- full stop. The harder I tried, the more I felt like I was failing everyone- and the harder, still, that I tried. In the end, I was home with Covid, trying to keep things afloat with my class while also trying to protect my family from getting sick when the light just burst. I am not going to get into the nitty-gritty here because that is not what is important. What is important is that I suddenly was given clarity and knew that it was either me or my job- and I realized that I couldn’t do it anymore.

Having stepped away and pondered some things, I can see that my anxiety was mostly self-induced. I was looking in at myself and trying to manage others’ opinions of me. I was trying to be the people pleaser that I have always been and get people to like me and give me words of affirmation. Here’s the thing about that- that is not what we were made for and it is not healthy. We were made by God for a specific purpose; He gave us specific skills and traits to help us to meet that purpose. His biggest commandment of all is to love Him with all of our hearts, minds, strength, and spirits and to love our neighbors. That is it. It isn’t to manage how others view us. It isn’t to please people. It is to use our talents and traits to accomplish His purpose. The world tells us that we get our value from our talents, our possessions, our friends, our successes, etc. The world is wrong- and it causes us SO MUCH undo stress. I have read 3 books so far over the past 2 weeks: The Untethered Soul, Ordinary on Purpose, and Free of Me. While they were all excellent books and I gleaned some important insight from all of them, it was the third one that spelled it out for me. I would encourage EVERYONE who suffers from anxiety to read Free of Me– and even those who do not. It is POWERFUL!! It talks about how we all do image management, strive to please others, and judge others based on the world’s standards (which are pretty F’d up, if we are being completely honest here). Even if you are not a religious person, this book will make you think about your priorities and how we can all work together to make this world a better place by using our gifts and talents.

I just finished the book today and am still processing things. I may do another blog post later on how I will use what I have learned from the book moving forward, but I wanted to sort some things out on here today. I am still very much a work in progress. I will tell you, though, that I have never felt more alive and relaxed than I do right now. I have no idea what my next career will be and I am honestly not worried about it. I prayed- A LOT- about my job this year and really do wonder if He was calling me to step down before I even started this school year. I think back to how I kept waffling last year with stepping back into the classroom, how I tore my hammy this summer and spent most of the school year coming back from that, how the issue that ultimately caused me to step away was percolating all year. I kept going back and forth about stepping away due to these things- and I kept going back for the kids. It was not until that day that the light shattered that I felt like I had no choice- I had to leave NOW. Sure, I gave my 30 day notice-and I had many anxious moments, as I do love my class and team, but by the time I walked out that door, I felt peace- for the first time in a very, very, VERY long time. I was dealing with other emotions, but I don’t regret my decision for one nanosecond- and here is why. I finally listened to His calling and took the leap of faith. I did what He was calling me to do. I am now waiting to see what He calls me to do next. In the meantime, in the waiting, I am going to continue to work on me. I am going to realign my priorities (again), grow my relationship to God (more), pour into my family and friends (finally), and head into my next career as my best self (at that moment). When one door closes, it is usually God’s way of telling you that you are finished there- and He is working on opening the next door for you. You just have to have the faith to step through it when it does.

I haven’t written in awhile for a few reasons. First of all, I have been in a pretty good headspace, for the most part. Secondly, I feel like life is going by at about 100mph, and I am having a hard time finding the time for me. Third, I think I lost my purpose for writing. As I sit here on only day 2 of Covid quarantine (without my dogs, even), I am finding myself reflecting on a hard week and with lots of time on my hands.

Overall, I have been doing pretty well. Anxiety is ever present, but I let everyone know upfront that I have it, so they are pretty understanding (well, as understanding as people who don’t deal with it can be). Depression comes and goes. There is not usually a whole day or span of days where I am feeling down in the dumps, as I’ve learned ways to navigate it and climb out of the black hole at the first sign of trouble. Also, I am very good at compartmentalizing and always have been. However, I do find that I am having to beat it back a bit more than usual these days. I might be feeling totally fine on a Saturday and wake up Sunday feeling down in the dumps. Or, I might wake up on a work day feeling down, shove the feelings into a corner of my brain, do my job all day, and then find myself wanting to just go to bed when I get home. Normally, I find that reading a good book, writing down what I am grateful for, or getting outside for a walk help me to find my way back to the light. I am not really sure if the stress of this year is causing this or if my brain is just acclimating to the meds and I need to up my dose. I am seeing my therapist about every couple of months now, as I have the coping strategies to deal with things on my own. I just meet with her to make sure I am still moving in the overall right direction.

Life seems to be moving fast and slow at the same time. It often feels like Groundhog Day, yet there are times when I just want to step off the hamster wheel for a bit. When I do, you will normally find me sleeping. LOL! That is my escape hatch and always has been. My job is all consuming this year. I do not have a spare second to myself except when I run to the restroom during the day (with run being the operative word). I am on the go from the second I get there at 6am until I leave there between 5 and 6pm most days. There are plans to be made, interventions to be given, papers to correct, kids to teach, parents to appease, and meetings (oh so many meetings) to attend. The days fly by, but I often feel like I got nothing done or made little progress in the ever-growing pile that is on my plate. It is frustrating. I just have not had time to sit and process my thoughts- hence no entries since last May.

Finally, I feel like I lost my purpose for this blog. I started it to help me process my thoughts. I decided to share it to maybe help others in the same boat. Over time, it came to feel like something I needed to do for others. I didn’t want to come across as whining, but straight forward. I wanted to be upbeat and a cheerleader for others- but that is really not always what I need…and I am finally learning that that is ok. This is MY blog. I can use it however I would like. People don’t need to read it. They don’t need to respond. They just can just scroll on by. If it helps people, I am super happy!! If it doesn’t, it has at least helped me to process all the things swinging around in my own head- and it’s like a jungle up there most of the time. LOL!

With all that being said, I am in dire need of some processing. Our church is doing a sermon series about things we need to quit. Last week was about quitting the need for control and this week was about quitting complaining. Both of which I am guilty of. Both of which have really had me processing some tough thoughts. I am a perfectionist, a control freak, and- when I get into my downstairs brain for too long- a complainer. I try to control things because without some semblance of control, anxiety wins out. When things spiral out of my control (as something did at work this week), I go into my downstairs brain and can only see the negative…and that is a hard place to get out of. I panic because I just see no way out of a stressful situation. My head knows that I cannot control what other people do or think….but my anxiety makes me want to try- and that does not always end well. I get frustrated. I get angry. I feel disrespected. I feel unseen. I feel unwanted. I feel like I will never be good enough. I complain to whoever will listen. I have been working really, really hard for a few months now on trusting God more and just letting things go…but it really IS hard to teach an old dog new tricks, as it turns out. I do trust Him with big things, but I have a harder time trusting that He is in the nitty-gritty with me in my day to day stuff. I know He is, but I have to keep reminding myself of that…and sometimes I forget to. Moving into this new week, I am going to try to stop and think the following thoughts before immediately reacting and jumping to the worst case scenario: He is holding me right now. I can do hard things. What should I do/How should I react to this issue in a more godly way, knowing He is with me? That will hopefully help to lesson my anxiety and keep me out of the negative space. And also keep my foot out of my mouth. 🤦‍♀️

I continue to work on wanting to please people. I know this is biblically wrong, wrong, wrong…but it goes back to anxiety and wanting people to like me. I am constantly trying to please people at work so they can see my worth (parents of students, colleagues, students, admin…you name it), as well as people outside of work. What I need to refocus on is living as close to how Jesus lived as possible and working to only please Him. That means loving my neighbors/colleagues/parents of students/acquaintances- even if they sometimes make me want to pull my hair out. It means speaking in kind words- even if I am thinking unkind thoughts. It means not judging others, no matter how different their thoughts are from my own. Just like no one has ever walked in my shoes, I have never walked in anyone else’s, so I don’t know where they are coming from. It means letting go of unkind things people have said to/about me and extending grace, instead. It means realizing that not everyone is going to be in your tribe- and that is ok. Not everyone is your people.

If you don’t battle with anxiety and depression, you really don’t know what it is like. I have tried to bring understanding through this blog, but it is hard for people to grasp that this is not whining or a choice we are making. It is an imbalance of chemicals in our brain (specifically serotonin) that we need help balancing out. Without the balance of the feel-good chemical, life seems pretty hairy and dreary- regardless of how blessed you really are. Medication helps to balance the chemicals for the most part- but there is constant work to be done, strategies to be applied, and therapy to be had in order to keep everything completely balanced so that you can live a happy, productive life. Sometimes, the balance is easier to obtain than others, and it can be exhausting.

Soooo….I need to stop trying to please everyone and start doing what I feel is right, regardless of the situation. I need to let go of things that are beyond my control and just trust that they will all work out for the good. I need to look at everyone with compassion, knowing that everyone has things on their plates that are hard, time-consuming, and just plain awful. I need to remind myself of all that I have to be grateful for- and thank God for those things. I need to know that God is in every situation. I also need to give myself grace because anxiety and depression are tough adversaries- and I am doing the best that I can…and so are you.

*Some helpful thoughts for those who know someone dealing with an anxiety disorder:

It’s been awhile since I’ve last wanted to write. Normally, I write to untangle my thoughts, but they haven’t been too tangled of late. We are all moved into our new house and I am in love. I love being in the country. I love sitting on my back deck and seeing trees. I love listening to the birds singing and the peepers at night. I love that there are less people. I can hear kids laughing and see the occasional dog walker- but that is about it. We see squirrels, rabbits, and the occasional turkey or snake. 😳 This is what my soul has been yearning for the past six and a half years (minus the snakes, of course). Peace. Bliss.

While my family and I are doing well, others that I know and love are having a hard time of things, which is what has prompted this post. May is national Mental Health Awareness Month. Did you know that 1 in 5 people have some sort of mental illness? During this pandemic, I think that rate is probably significantly higher. If you, yourself, are not affected, you know someone who is. Mental illness can be caused by a variety of things; trauma, genetics, brain injury, viruses, and stress are the most common causes. None of these are things that an individual can bring on themselves. Why, then, is there such a stigma around mental health? If someone has cancer or Covid 19 or an accident or something physical happen to them, people send well wishes, casseroles, and prayers. If someone is diagnosed with a mental illness (or is struggling with mental illness), there are crickets- or worse, they are told how blessed their lives are and that there is no reason for them to be depressed or anxious or manic or whatever. All are illnesses. All are unwanted. All usually require medical help. Why the difference in how people are supported?

I am blessed. I come from a strong and amazing family. I married into the same, and my husband and I have been blessed with 3 amazing children and a life that could not be better- yet I have struggled with anxiety most of my adult life (and probably off and on throughout childhood) and was officially diagnosed with that and depression 5 years ago. At my worst, when it seemed like we could not find the right balance of meds/therapy and my life would be spent teetering on the edge of a constant panic attack, I sat on the couch and googled how many antidepressants it would take to end my life (oh, the irony, right?)- and if I had enough in my possession to do it. Those were scary times and I was lucky to have friends and family that loved and supported me. I was also lucky to have my faith. The Lord has shown me that I can put all my trust in Him, which is huge when you struggle with anxiety. I cannot tell you how good it feels to take things that would normally freak me out (you know, like living my life among other humans 🤣) and laying them at His feet- and the sense of relief that I get from that. Life is not always rainbows and sunshine, but Jesus is always walking with me- and carrying me when I can’t walk any further. Plus I’ve got my tribe. ❤️ Like I said, I am blessed.

Most people who talk with me now have no idea that I struggle with not one, but two, mental illnesses. I’m happy and feeling great about life, yet I still find myself looking for excuses to avoid social situations (now, though, I make myself go- usually-and manage the anxiety along the way). I still find myself wringing my hands in conversations or meetings, but I carry on and participate- though I usually have to find something to do with hands…like sit on them or hold something or twirl my hair like a 5 year old. 🤦‍♀️ I still have to remind myself that my worth is not tied into how other people view me- and I still use strategies to cope with feelings of inadequacy. Some days are easier than others. It is what it is. My point in sharing all this is that you just never know what battles someone else is facing- but you do know someone facing a daily battle with mental illness. I guarantee it. Why do I share my personal information so freely? I share it because I feel led to do my part to end the stigma surrounding mental illness. 1:5, people, 1:5.

Mental illness is affecting more and more young people. All 3 of our children have suffered from anxiety at some time or another. With our daughters, sometimes it involved social situations and feelings of inadequacy. Sometimes it involved change and panic attacks. One still finds meds helpful in managing her anxiety; the other manages on her own. They both have successful careers, solid relationships, and are happy. With Ryan, things were more involved, as he also has depression and OCD. His story involves suicidal ideation, a stint in the psych ward to get his meds straightened out, and some really dark and scary times. However, I’m proud to say that Ryan has persevered over the past three years and is now happy and thriving; he is looking forward to building a career and a life. I know a number of former students who see therapists for anxiety and other disorders- more so in recent years than ever before. There is a waiting list for child therapists, and suicide rates are climbing in children. In fact, according to Boston Children’s Hospital, it is the second leading cause of death in children from 13-19 years old…and the leading cause of death in 13 year olds. Mental illness can impact anyone at any age. Talk to your kids and let them know you are there for them, no matter what.

If YOU are struggling, please know that you are not alone. If you are feeling like the world has lost its color, please reach out to someone. If you are feeling like you are not enough, please contact friends, family, your doctor, someone and get help. There is no shame in the game. Life is too short to suffer in silence. If you have friends or family who seem to be struggling, please reach out to them and be a shoulder to lean on and an ear to listen. Please let them know that you will support them as they work to regain balance. Please point them to their doctor or a therapist. Offer to go with them. Offer to take their calls at all hours of the day and night. Offer to sit with them in silence. Tell them of their worth. God put all of us on this earth for a purpose. We are all doing our very best to live out that purpose. He gave us different strengths, talents, weaknesses, and personalities. All are good and of value. God doesn’t make mistakes. Let your loved ones know that.

I hope that by being vulnerable, I can continue to help others feel less alone. That is what national Mental Health Awareness Month is all about. Share your story with others because you never know when you can be a beacon of hope for those in the trenches now. To my dear friends who are struggling (or who know someone struggling), I am here for you. I have seen some dark, dark days, so I know things seem impossible right now- but the sun always rises and Jesus always has your back. Reach out to me; I’ve got you! Please help us end the stigma that surrounds mental illness. Support those in the struggle. Correct those who make erroneous assumptions about mental illness. Educate yourself. Just like someone struggling with cancer or some other awful disease, those struggling with mental illness are fighting for their lives. They deserve everyone’s love, support, and concern, too. Share your story. Share my story. Share a story. Let the world know that you will not let mental illness define anyone. Thank you from everyone fighting the fight! ❤

As I sit back and reflect on this year, I can honestly say that 2020 was not a complete disaster for me personally. Our family has had some ups and downs, but overall, we have emerged stronger. I have learned some things about myself that I might otherwise not have learned- and really solidified what it is that is important to me. Everyone is in a rush for things to return to normal, but if I am being 100% honest, I hope some things remain forever changed.

I hope that we can all just slow down the pace of life a little. We, as a country, reward busyness. We reward people for always working, always pushing ahead, always doing things bigger and better. Where has that gotten us? We are a nation of harried, stressed out, unhappy people (not just my opinion, but the opinion of researchers whose studies I’ve taken the time to read). I was one of those people. I have been running from one to thing to another for YEARS, trying to make people happy and check off all the “things” I am supposed to be doing. I made sure my kids were involved in everything under the sun because I wanted them to be well-rounded and have a resume that any college worth its weight in gold (or tuition) would fall over themselves for. We were involved in church and did all the “things” that we felt we were supposed to be doing there. We did fun things as a family and I was sure to put the carefully curated photos/posts onto FB. What we did not do was enjoy the ride enough. We were so busy shuttling kids and curating our lives that the kids all grew up in the blink of an eye and we grew old (er…older) and more stressed out. Since many of the things on our to-do list were cancelled in 2020, I have had time to think. I no longer want to run from one thing to the next. I want to do what brings me joy and my family and friends joy. I want to take the time to enjoy the limited number of minutes that I’ve been gifted. I want to have the game nights, have deep conversations with friends, read, craft, be alone with my thoughts, spend time with God in my own way, shower love on my family and friends. I really like this slower pace that we have been forced to adopt- and I think this will be my new normal.

I was blessed to get a new job in my same school district this year. It comes with less stress, more time for my family, and different challenges. Do I miss being in the classroom? Absolutely! If I could just teach and work with kids without all the testing, meetings, expectations, and evaluations, I would never have left. However, that is not what teaching is about these days, so I had to step away for my mental health. I am blessed that I am able to still work in schools, to still see kids every day, and to still work with them occasionally- but it is not the same as having my own classroom. I am grateful, though. I work in two amazing schools with some equally amazing teachers who have been working themselves nearly to death to make this year work for kids. I am grateful that I get to see the awesome work they are doing on a daily basis and that I can offer support when I see that they are needing it. I am grateful that I can still love on kids and have them wave to me in the hallways. I am grateful for the amazing PEOPLE that I get to work with day in and day out. I am grateful for my new job. It’s different than my norm, but I am embracing it, for sure! One thing I do need to have go back to normal is the ability to give and receive hugs! It’s a very strange thing to have to keep your distance from the kids who want to give you a hug.

We sold our house within 35 days of listing it in June, thanks to an amazing realtor friend. I am grateful to be out of that neighborhood, where houses are stacked on top of each other, people are constantly everywhere, and the motto seems to be “bigger is always better.” I didn’t realize until we actually moved how stressed out living there made me. It was all just too “people-y” for me. We have been renting a house in a neighborhood out in the country. People in this neighborhood seem to savor time spent outdoors, a slower pace, and kids being kids. It has been refreshing, but it continues to grow, so I am glad to be moving out next month. Our new neighborhood is even more out in the country, has about 10 houses (with no more able to be built), and seems to be much more our speed. I am very much looking forward to moving in soon. How blessed are we?? This is not where I expected us to be when we moved down here six and a half years ago, but I am beyond grateful! Again, a new normal for us.

Our children are all doing well. Our oldest graduated from the police academy, got married, and is loving life. Our middle daughter has found a new friend….who is a boy- but not a boyfriend, I guess….and is excelling in her job. Our son graduated high school a semester early- praise God. If you have followed my journey at all, you know that he has STRUGGLED socially in high school (with anxiety and depression), so we were not sure we would actually see the day. He was able to do the last 9 months of school virtually, which suits his personality just fine and he excelled. He is looking forward to his next steps. My kids have been blessed this year with this new normal.

The hardest part of this past year has been not seeing my family in Maine. Who knew that when my parents left here at the end of February that they would not be back down for who knows how long??? I did know that when we left Maine in July (after an abbreviated visit, which followed negative Covid tests), it would be awhile before we saw everyone again- but I did not think it would potentially be an entire year- or more. That makes my heart hurt, and I can only hope, pray, and trust that our sacrifices will be rewarded with many more years of visits to come. I will be lining up for the vaccine as soon as it becomes available because this is one area of my life that I do need to return to normal!

2020 has shown me what I want my life to be like moving forward. I am no longer trying to please anyone. I am a jeans and t-shirt kind of gal whose idea of dressing up is a nice pair of jeans with a casual shirt, and possibly some mascara. I don’t want the the latest and greatest “things.” In fact, I want less things. I don’t want to keep up with anyone- least of all the Joneses. I want quality time spent with family and friends. I want my relationship with God to grow deeper. I want to entrust Him with my life and live it along His path. I want to be present and appreciate the world around me. I want to reach out and help those in need because I SEE the need and am able to respond on a personal level. I want to use the precious minutes that I’ve been gifted with to LIVE- not scroll. I want to make our new house a home. I want to make my MIL feel at home there. I want to deepen friendships and show appreciation to those I care about. I want to live by the morals and values that I’ve been taught and hold dear- not by the values of today’s society. I want to surround myself with more civility and less divisiveness. My word for the year is peace. I want to be at peace. I want to find joy in the little things and see the blessings that surround me daily. I want to worry less and trust God more. I want to know that I have given my best at work every day, but then let it go so that I can be present with my family and friends. I want less FB and more real life connections. I want deeper, more meaningful connections in every area of life. I want peace.

I still have work to do. I’ve gained the Covid 40 (Is that a thing? Please tell me that’s a thing and I’m not the only one that ate my way through the past 9 months)-and feel very blah. I am tired of feeling tired and want to remedy that for myself. Also, I refuse to buy more clothes and would love to be able to breathe in the ones I currently own. I need to work on staying present. I need to continue to work on my relationship with God, who (thankfully) gives us a fresh supply of grace and mercies daily. I need to work on extending grace to others more readily (I will admit that I am too quick to judge sometimes…ok, a lot). I need to connect with those I care about more frequently and meaningfully. There are lots of ways I hope to grow this year. We are all a work in progress, and I accept that- which is a new norm for me.

None of these things were a part of my normal in recent years. At best, everything was half-hearted. I was too busy running around like a chicken with my head cut off, trying to measure up to some societal standard that didn’t even make me happy or help anyone. Crazy stuff, I know- but that is why I am not eagerly racing for a return to normal. Also, I am not really hating the mask mandates; my “resting bitch face” is less obvious. Ha!

As we move into 2021, I pray that you will all be blessed in numerous ways. I hope that you will love yourself without exception, knowing that God made you exactly the way He did for a purpose. You are the only you there will ever be- and that was by design. You are needed and loved more than you will ever know. I hope you surround yourself (virtually for now, for pete’s sake) with those you love and care about and let go of “things” that don’t serve you and those around you. I hope you are able to really be present in your life and enjoy the beauty that surrounds you always. I hope you see more mountain tops than valleys and know that you are never alone- no matter where you are. I hope the year brings you peace, love, joy, and happiness. Wishing you all much love for 2021!

As many of you know, I took a new job this fall as an instructional coach. An instructional coach works with teachers to help them improve in areas that the teachers want to improve. Due to Covid and our district changing course every month or so, I have been right out straight. I love the job and, to be honest, it probably saved my career in education. However, I am not a fan of change- at all- and it’s been kind of a rough transition at times.

I work at two schools- and I love both of them. They are filled with amazing, talented, and friendly people. In one school, I receive very little direction, so I just do my own thing and help out where needed. In the other school, I am VERY involved in many aspects of things- and I work closely with the principal and guidance counselor- but I still don’t get a lot of direction in coaching. The principal is a very cerebral kind of guy. He is always thinking, always pushing you to do better, and expects you to always give 110%. In short, he makes me a nervous wreck. I don’t know why because I have many of the same characteristics…which could explain some things (which I will go into later), but he does. My anxiety has been building all year because

1. I dislike change.

2. I dislike failing.

3. I like having direction and knowing what I am doing.

4. I dislike change…and failing. (Have I mentioned those yet?)

I went into this position expecting to pass my wisdom onto teachers who needed it (Bahahaha….just kidding.). I actually went in there expecting to have some idea of what I should be doing based on what I know about teaching; I figured the transition would be easy. As it turns out, there is a certain finesse to that process that I do not yet possess…which has become very evident.

Without getting into all the gory details, let me just say that things came to a tipping point yesterday and I was called to the principal’s office (virtually, of course, because…well…Covid). It is just as scary at 48 as it was at 8, in case you were wondering (not that I went there a lot…or ever, really…well, there was that one time….). He was incredibly nice and sincere as he essentially told me that I had handled a particular situation (that I had been working on for the past 6 weeks) wrong. I listened and barely responded because I would have burst into hysterics if I did, and when it was done, I spend a fair amount of time crying, leaning over a trash can, and willing myself off the ledge before I vomited, had a heart attack, started hyperventilating- or a combination of all of the above (which is always a fun time- not). The guy was not wrong- in fact, he was 100% correct in his assessment, but it still hurt.

I sat with my hurt for a bit and reflected. That is when anxiety REALLY took over and my head turned things all around into something really ugly. I was convinced that there was something wrong me as a person, that I could never do this job, that everyone hated me because I was a bad person, and on and on, and on. This has been happening with increasing frequency and I knew where this was headed, so I called my therapist for an appt and was able to get in (virtually, of course). By the time I got home, my eyeballs were so puffed up that I could barely keep them open. I am sure I looked like a train wreck. I spent the night on the couch reading, reflecting, and trying to pull myself back to reality. As I was discussing things with my husband, he pointed out that this whole train wreck is not just because I don’t know what I am doing as a coach (which I am learning…painfully slowly…but still learning), but also because I always feel like I have to prove myself. I always feel like I’m not good enough and I have to prove to the world that I deserve to be where I am. I deserve the job. I deserve to take up space. More to ponder…so I went to bed- at 7:40pm and slept straight through until this morning.

When I got up, I had a chat with God. I asked Him for clarity, confidence, and the ability to learn from this. I just have to share the INCREDIBLE peace that came over me. On the drive to work, which I was convinced was going to be an anxiety-filled ride from hell, I just was so grateful. I was grateful that things came to a head, grateful that I could apologize to the person (people) I was bossing around like a tyrant, and grateful that I work for a principal who (while intimidating at times) truly cares and wants to help everyone improve in their positions. I walked into that school with my head held high, thanked the principal in person for the conversation, shared with him some insights that I had had in the past 12-14 hours, and went about my day. He was happy with my insights and things only went up from there. I got a number of emails from staff at both schools thanking me for all the help I’ve given them and telling me that they are so glad I am working with them. I have gotten 1 or 2 in the past couple of months, but this was like 5 or 6 people today- which is, I am sure, something that God knew I needed and He provided. Isn’t He amazing?!?

Today, I feel like I have finally emerged from the anxious hole that I’ve been in since the start of the school year. I know I CAN do this job- I just need to train myself on how to do it well. I will still need to ask lots of questions- and I will still have missteps along the way- but I have the capacity to do this. I still feel a bit like an outsider at both schools, as I am never there full time and I don’t go do any of the social things that they all do together (again…Covid- with a splash of social anxiety), but that is ok. It will come over time.

Sometimes the manner in which I flip from fine to an anxiety filled crazy person to a person whose depression makes it hard to even pretend to smile makes my head spin- especially since I need to project the “I’m fine” facade to the world. However, it has not been the downward slide that I had 3 years ago. It’s been more like a marathon with lots of ups and downs. I have strategies that I use to pull myself back from the ledge- and 99% of the time, they do the trick…until the next time. It’s been a little more consistent over the past month or so because change is so hard for me. Yesterday was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back and I knew that there was no pulling myself out of that one. So, I reached out to my “team” and am back on an even keel. I know this is just the way that it is going to be, and I am ok with that. Does it stink? Yes. Do I wish that anxiety and depression would go away forever? Yes. However, these are the cards I’ve been dealt, and I will play the hell out of them.

Let me tell you another great God story. Recently, a friend reached out to me about a family member who has suddenly been having mental health issues. She was asking me about my journey, how I can sleep at night, and strategies I use that might have the fastest impact. I was able to share with her the wonders of Melatonin (complete with the whackadoodle dreams) and weighted blankets. The fabulous work of therapists and medications. The fact that the family member is not alone. I really feel like I have been placed where I am in life and given my trials because I can use them to help others- just like I look to others to help me.

I haven’t posted in awhile and wanted to share this latest wild ride with you all. I am not on Facebook as frequently as before (nor do I do more than read the news headlines now) because they both are not great for my mental health. I need to spend time being in the moment and enjoying it- not worrying about how I compare to others (or whether or not this country is going to implode). Mental health issues are no fun. I am not going to paint a rosy picture. However, I am a stronger person for having learned strategies for dealing, for having assembled a team that I can call on when things get hairy, and for sharing my story. There is power in sharing experiences and reaching out to help others- or accepting help from others. If you are struggling right now (as many are thanks to Covid), reach out and get help. Change something in your routine to shake things up and give you a fresh perspective. Know that the down times are always, always, always followed by up times. Rest in the fact that God created you to be you. He doesn’t want you to be like everyone else; the world needs YOU. Bless you all!!