Showing posts with label loss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label loss. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

She Asked Me: Who Killed Your Sister?

“Traveling At Speed Of Light” by digidreamgrafix via FreeDigitalphotos.net 


February 2015

names have been changed and omitted in this post 

**************

It was February, when skies are often gray all twenty eight days and temperatures typically hover in the fifties. I can take the chill of fifty degree weather, but please Dear Mother Nature, send us some sun with it… to take that winter edge off, so we don't feel as though we live in a gray blanket.

A little past three o'clock, I maneuvered thick afternoon traffic after having picked up my daughter from school… we had just departed from the post office and now were en route to the grocery store to pick up a few essentials like milk, bread and eggs. As I glided past stores, a seafood restaurant and a bakery… I heard my daughter speak up from the backseat.

"How come Daddy is taking us to see Braydon?" She asked me, "us" meaning her and her brother seeing their younger cousin Braydon.

My mental daydreaming behind the wheel was interrupted by her unexpected question and I took a few seconds to collect my thoughts.

"Braydon is my nephew, your cousin… so it's really my place to take you to see Braydon. I don't know why he's doing that. But sometimes people don't always know their place… sometimes people just ignore boundaries and do what they want." I murmured with irritation thinking of her father.

"Oh…" She responded "So, Daddy does it even though he knows he shouldn't? I mean, he does it just to be annoying? Because he's your nephew, your sister's kid so I don't think he should be doing that..." She asked me, rationalizing aloud, trying to get clarification on a situation that was beyond anyone's comprehension at this point…

"Yeah, pretty much!" I replied and as soon as I uttered it, realizing my tone was a little snappy. Ugh. I took a deep breath, this was very difficult territory for me, this was hard stuff, this was an area where I had to work comparable to pulling nails to not lose my cool. Rationally I knew it wasn't her fault. Admittedly just the topic alone often sent me into an irritated state by just thinking about it and succumbing to becoming grumpy. Deep breaths, I told myself. It's not her fault, she doesn't know what you're dealing with. She doesn't know that it is all ridiculously insane and some twilight zone we've all entered. Or maybe she did. Just quietly observing over time she had already gathered information about her dad's actions. She obviously saw reality as it was, she was a smart kid and I certainly wasn't going to protest when she saw the truth before her… the truth however grossly odd. It was so bizarre… my deceased sister who had been killed by a drunk driver; her child that was born just before her death, my sweet nephew… was at times in the care of my ex… whom my sister had despised with a passion. It was all so ironically dysfunctional and awful at best. My ex would occasionally have my nephew in his care when our daughter was on his week and along with our son they would go out to eat and hang out.

When I had explained this strange reality to sweet long time friends at breakfast one morning over eggs, biscuits and coffee, one of them leaned forward in astonishment and understandable angered injustice at the whole thing… "You have GOT to be kidding me!" was written all over her face… unbelieving that this was even possible, that anyone could be that inept, that conniving, that manipulative, that anyone could be that big of a "meanie poopie head" as my daughter says. But, yes, as unbelievable as it was, boundaries seemed to be non-existent and instead chaos ran amok happily served up by my ex.

As we drove along, taking the curves on the main thoroughfare, I ruminated over the situation, my daughter having sparked a mental narrative… she spoke…

"Mommy, how come you get stuff in the mail from those MADD people all the time? What are they sending you?"

"I get letters about other families that have been affected by drunk drivers, sometimes I just get updates on what they are doing to fight drunk driving and other times they ask me to donate money. I try to send them what I can." I told her.

"Oh…" She replied. I glanced at her sitting in the backseat via the rearview mirror and detected her furrowed brows… she was deep in thought and as if trying to piece together a puzzle, she seemed troubled by something. In seconds I would find out what it was… the next question was coming, like a tornado, a question I had dreaded one day my being asked and bewilderingly, it was now coming… like a wind that had been kept at bay for years… now it was being released and with it the ability to send me into a near panic at it's presence.

"Mommy… who killed your sister? The drunk driver who killed Aunt Elaine, who was it? Did they die?" She asked me, the question making my stomach drop, my hands gripping the leather steering wheel becoming clammy, wishing she hadn't asked. I truly hadn't expected this question this soon… maybe in a few years… but not yet. And I wished it hadn't shown up at my door… it wasn't something I had wanted to have to delve into… and at that I wasn't sure if I ever would be ready to.

I pressed the button on the radio, silencing the music playing softly and cleared my throat. I didn't answer right away… I sat at the light that had turned red watching the traffic flow, vehicles taking their turns, trying to grasp my thoughts… I hated this. I really hated this.

"Braydon's daddy killed her." I finally said.

I heard an audible gasp from the backseat and finally she spoke "Braydon's daddy?" She affirmed.

"Yes, " I responded through gritted teeth, "He died the next morning." I added.

"Ohhh… " She said sadly, then came the next question… "Is he in heaven? Or hell?"

GET. ME. OUT. OF. HERE. 


The light turned green. I paused, looking both ways before hitting the gas to ensure anyone who believed they were invincible wasn't running the light.

Years ago, fresh in my grief I admit I would have said "hell". Quickly, it would have spat out like a nasty bit of phlegm from one's throat… I would have said hell and meant it. I would have gladly served up the answer of hell and felt justified. I would have shoved down any feelings that spoke otherwise and briskly moved on in my fury, hurt and loss. He had been abusive toward her both verbally and physically for years leading up to our losing her.

Now… today, I soberly answered her with more reason and insight… "I don't know where he is." I admitted, "I don't make that decision. God makes that decision. When people do things that are bad and that hurt others we may think they went to hell. And yeah, maybe were right. The bible says no drunkards will inherit the kingdom. But ultimately there is grace and God decides who goes where."

"Poor Braydon…" She whispered softly in the backseat, her small hands clasped in her lap. "Does he know?" She asked.

"No, he doesn't. Listen… if you have any questions about any of this, feel free to ask me, okay? But please don't bring it up to Grandma… "I added, "It only serves to upset her and she's upset enough about it."

"Okay, I won't." She agreed.

*********************

Drinking should always be dealt with carefully, with sober judgment and extreme moderation. The bible speaks of how we should not walk around in drunkenness, in lewdness and revelry as described in Romans 13:13. Anything of excess we know can cause major issues for us… but add alcohol consumption to a moving vehicle, well, any machinery really and we have a recipe for disaster.

The problem with drinking too much is not just related to the possible cause of injury or death from adding driving to the mix but also other unwise decisions… the more we drink the more our vision becomes clouded, our good judgment becomes skewed and the more likely we are to dabble in immoral actions like pre-marital sex, engage in brawling, letting our tongues loose in anger, or simply dying from alcohol poisoning.

I don't believe God is against us drinking altogether although some churches and denominations forbid it… According to this verse the bible shows drinking is permissible…

"...take the silver with you and go to the place the LORD your God will choose.  Use the silver to buy whatever you like: cattle, sheep, wine or other fermented drink, or anything you wish…" 


But that also doesn't mean to go nuts and throw caution to the wind… to succumb to a drunken state. I believe one of the other issues today with alcohol is the general joking done about it by society… it's everywhere, seemingly infiltrating home decor, gift bags, greeting cards, etc. When I'm out shopping and see decorative signs like "Wine Me Up & Watch Me Go!" it makes me cringe. I'd use that sign for kindling… it would never make it's way into my house. We never know if the person sitting beside us has lost someone to a drunk driver. Right after the loss of my sister I was at a church retreat with other women… sitting at the kitchen table eating a sausage and egg casserole with fruit and juice, I was enjoying the laughs and joy we shared together. But when one of the women laughingly quipped she put alcohol in her pre-schoolers sippy cup to drink at sporting events she attended, I recoiled. I was incredibly upset by that remark. I nearly bit my tongue in half and excused myself from the table. We never know if the person within earshot of us or sitting at the table we are sharing at the company Christmas dinner party is a victim of a drunk driver or yes, even a recovering alcoholic… perhaps they are using every bit of strength to rebuke temptation, {THEY ARE BRAVE} to refrain from having a drink. I do believe we as a society need to be more sensitive in general to others as the often casual remarks made in public, social settings can really wound. If everyone at a table is drinking and one person chooses to order iced tea or water… leave them be… don't ostracize them in front of their peers, don't point out their decision to not drink and above all do not mock them. Some people believe drinking is a sin… respect their decision. Never encourage someone to drink, especially if they've made it clear they have an issue with it. It's not to say you should never drink although that is a choice for some and that is okay… sometimes it's due to medications they are taking, etc. But we do need to make sure we are making wise choices if we do choose to drink.

GLORY TO GOD… 
When we make choices, including those related to alcohol we want to make sure we are honoring God… are we living as He would want us to? Are we following His word? Are the actions were choosing and the words we are uttering related to drinking something we would do and say if Christ was standing beside us? God wants a fruitful life for us… and when we make good choices it brings glory to Him.

© gps-gracepowerstrength.blogspot.com  ~ 2015







Saturday, December 13, 2014

Drunk Driving: Losing My Sister & Finding Hope In A Dark Place



December  2013 

names have been omitted in this post 

***************


I gently pick up the bundle of bright green stems off the tan leather seat and exit the SUV. Slamming the door shut and clicking the key fob the doors lock and I turn to see my daughter's small hand reaching out for mine. I slip my hand in hers and my son joins me as we walk along the December grass... our vision colliding with wreaths gracing burial plots... spots of Christmas red, metallics and ribbon adorning them.

Pockets of dry leaves crunch under our feet like a rhythmic marching band of three.
We walk in silence.
There under the giant tree is the spot.
Unmarked.

The three of us stand there fixed to the spot, silent…
huddled together in the cold wind…
freezing, despite the sun beaming down…

It had been five years.
Five years and no marker.


2008

names have been omitted

**************



My phone ringing on my bedside table…

Groggy, I answer. It's my dad telling me to go to the front door. Confused... was I dreaming? It was almost midnight. Nudging my husband beside me in bed to wake up... "Wake up! Mom and dad are at the door, I don't know what's going on." Stumbling... bare feet on carpet then hardwood. Throwing on a turquoise terry robe over pajamas. Sticking dirty fogged over contacts in my eyes quickly. Headed to the front door, him following close behind me. Opening it. Parents huddled on the front porch. My mother's forlorn expression...

The news that she had died.

"No, Mommy, no… " I gasped.

I hadn't uttered "Mommy" in two decades.

Shock. No. No. No. NO! Denial.
Pinch me. This can't be real. Shaking... make. it. stop.
Physically shaking...  like I have a cold, my are teeth chattering.

Talking to one of the officers on the scene… there was a video of the altercation between my sister and her boyfriend outside the gas station… minutes before he gunned the truck and sped off onto the highway… right into an SUV head on. His truck had burst into flames trapping my sister. Someone managed to pull him out but not her… not her... why not her? Why him? It infuriated me. It made me see red. When he died the following morning I didn't care… in my hurting heart that next morning I saw justice of some sort.

All the hell that had happened… his abuse toward her… six years of hell… her bruises… my talking with her, my pleading with her to leave him… the strained phone calls… she died because of him… because he chose to drink too much and get behind the wheel… I wondered if she had been yelling at him… if the altercation was her attempting to get his keys from him.


The officer on the scene uttered phrases no one wants to hear... the words "toxicology report" and "dental records"...  infiltrated my mind and made it scream to please wake up… going to the funeral home to choose a coffin… the flowers, white gladiolus, the card… tears, sobs… heaving shoulders, the kind of drippy runny nose that won't stop... wet upper lips... Kleenex. Lots of Kleenex.

the nightmares began… and then more nightmares…


THIS IS THE REALITY 
OF A LOSS 
FROM A DRUNK DRIVER

My mother's birthday… now my sister's burial day despite her protestations…
my vocal outrage…how insensitive… how un-empathetic… how horrible…
met with my father's indifference, coldness and detachment.
My complete and utter disgust at him…


How is this possible? How can someone behave this way?
Questions… questions… questions… racing thoughts…
wracking my brain for answers…
"Personality disorder" the therapist told me like she was telling me the weather.
Everything began clicking and the answers I'd needed
for the whole length of a childhood.
The answers stared me down. It was a mute point.
Answers that came too late…it was all too little too late.
I sat across from her sobbing in the midst of stark reality.

Dismal gray day, rain in the forecast… 
her dismal gray coffin that matched the sky…. 
Hymn of Promise by Natalie Sleeth… 
birds chirping and suddenly taking flight overhead as the service came to an end…
I wanted to sit there all day and into the night with her… 
I didn't want to leave.
But I got snapped at like a child to get in the car…
"Let's go!" came the angry words.
I had never seen my mother look so frail. 
My heart ached for her.
For my sister, the horror of it all…
it ached for all of us. 
I got in the limo and looked back at the coffin…
thinking this must be just a nightmare.
I would wake up….


Our couch at home, I took up residency on it… masses of crumpled tissues did too… pajamas… dirty hair, dirty sweatshirt… month by month... seasons changed from winter to spring... staring listlessly as The Today Show airs and Matt Lauer babbles on about crap that doesn't even matter… why were they so happy, anyway?… feeling no motivation… I notice a "Life Is Good" t-shirt magazine ad and want to scream and cry "Like hell!"… grabbing the remote control, flipping, flipping, flipping channels… nap after nap… I change from pajamas to jeans to pick up my kids from school… homework… dinner… bed… tomorrow... next week… repeat of this depression….
repeat tomorrow and the next day and the next…
Repeat of this cycle I want off and yet don't know how to remove myself from….


nightmares… more nightmares… make. them. stop. 
riding in the car was debilitating and sent me into a panic
"panic disorder" my therapist told me 


Reaching out… angry and sad… crying out for God.
It was like that song… it was like He went off for a cigarette break…
and was off the job… like He wasn't watching out for her.
Why? Why? Why?
Where were You when everything was falling apart? 
Needing comfort. Needing strength.
Needing something or someone good to believe in.


No one tells you grief is so exhausting, that it's comparable to a full time job... tiny steps, zig zagging through the stages of grief… therapy… talking about a loss helps so much as it helps propel you in healing… growing stronger… and as you muddle through the grief the "Why? Why did this happen?" nags at you like a hangnail or snagged sweater… trying to wrack our brain and figure out why God allowed this destruction to happen can drive us crazy. It's chasing something that we never can catch. This chase never ends well, it simply keeps us running in circles… like a little terrier after his tail, fraught in the circle of dissatisfaction. At some point we have to stop chasing and simply stand still… trust Him to bring beauty out of ashes, out of hurt, pain, loss and destruction.

keep. pressing. on.

Little reminders of my sister are always bittersweet... hearing her name always gives me pause... wishing for one more day... one more moment... yet thankful for having the time I had…I think of her every day and I'm so thankful the last words I told her were "I love you". I'm so thankful for God.
He was there all along. 




December   2013

names have been omitted in this post 

*************


Wearing brown boots standing in the bright green grass beside the spot that is hers… with two little ones huddled beside me… an unmarked spot… and yet she's there… the unmarked spot my father still hasn't placed her name on…. her unmarked spot that bears no sign of someone there except for our little bundle of flowers from the store.

The first words he spat toward her 
once buried were: 

"Well, you won't be causing anymore trouble!" 


The unmarked spot that is his daughter...
brought here at the hands and wheels of a drunk driver. 
Unmarked spot that to others may appear to be empty,
to hold no significance…  yet it's the spot I visit her…
it's a spot of grief, loss and also... eternal hope.
One day I will see her again. 


© gps-gracepowerstrength.blogspot.com ~ 2014 







All posts are important to me… but especially this one

this is a horrific reality for so many families
 that have lost loved ones due to drunk drivers…
 please pray for strength, healing and peace for these families…


With the New Year quickly approaching…
 so is revelry and drinking
to celebrate ringing in the new year…
 it's important to plan ahead…
to ensure you have a designated driver arranged for that night. 

The time to plan is now. 

No one wants to be responsible for someone's injuries or death stemming from drinking and driving ... something that is highly preventable. And no one wants to lose their family member to a drunk driver. It takes merely a few minutes to ensure you have somewhere to stay for the night or a responsible ride. Let's each do our part to look out for others and make certain everyone has a bright new year.  


    *************** 


The 5 Stages Of Grief: 

Not every stage takes the same amount of time and grief is not a neat, consistent formula to healing... instead you may find yourself zig zagging back and forth between stages, relapsing then moving forward again bit by bit. 


1. Denial: denying the loss happened, that it's real... feeling shock and numb as if having an out of body experience. 

2. Anger: anger begins picking up where denial leaves off. You may find yourself angry at your loved one for leaving which makes us feel worse... you may feel angry at God... angry that the reality is you lack control; sometimes really bad things do happen. 

3. Bargaining: attempting to bargain with God... what if I did this? Beating yourself up with "What if's"... Re-writing history... what if I'd done this or that? Would they still be here?

4. Depression: extended isolation in mourning...  a time that if it persists, if it deters you from functioning, seek grief therapy with a psychologist and or your doctor for anti-depressants temporarily. Anxiety may occur, panic, ptsd, etc… consult with a therapist for treatment if this happens. 

5. Acceptance: finally peace and acceptance that is brought on by hope, by prayer and realization that yes, this is not the end... that there will be a reuniting one day. 



Facts: via madd.org

Almost every 90 seconds, a person is injured in a drunk driving crash. 

Blincoe, Lawrence, et al. “The Economic Impact of Motor Vehicle Crashes 2000.” Washington, DC: National Highway Traffic Safety Administration, 2002. NHTSA FARS data, 2011.


50 to 75 percent of convicted drunk drivers continue to drive on a suspended license. 

(Peck, R.C., Wilson, R. J., and Sutton, L. 1995. “Driver license strategies for controlling the persistent DUI offender, Strategies for Dealing with the intent Drinking Driver.” Transportation Research Board, Transportation Research Circular No. 437. Washington, D.C. National Research Council: 48-49 and Beck, KH, et al. “Effects of Ignition Interlock License Restrictions on Drivers with Multiple Alcohol Offenses: A Randomized Trial in Maryland.” American Journal of Public Health, 89 vol. 11 (1999): 1696-1700.)


An average drunk driver has driven drunk 80 times before first arrest. 

(Centers for Disease Control. “Vital Signs: Alcohol-Impaired Driving Among Adults — United States, 2010.” Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report. October 4, 2011.)

Every day in America, another 28 people die as a result of drunk driving crashes. 

National Highway Traffic Safety Administration FARS data, 2013.

In 2011, 226 children were killed in drunk driving crashes. Of those, 122 (54% percent) were riding with the drunk driver. 


NHTSA data query, 2013. 


Related Posts: 

Grieving = One Of The Most Basic Human Needs: 


A Season of Change - Sensing God's Presence: 


An Ambulance = A Fighting Chance & Hope: 



Recommended Reading:

Hello From Heaven!

- Bill Guggenheim & Judy Guggenheim 

On Grief and Grieving: Finding The Meaning Of Grief Through The Five Stages Of Loss

- Elisabeth Kubler-Ross and David Kessler 



To My Readers: 

Thank you for reading, 

commenting and sharing! 




Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Depression: It Affects Us All



The darkness.

The silence.

The loneliness.

The isolation.


Depression. 


Many of us have been there…

Maybe we were there for just a bit… a fleeting period of time… but there nonetheless.

Maybe it was postpartum depression.

Maybe it drug on for years…

Maybe it was like being on a planet shrouded in fog or a black veil.

Maybe it was due to a loss or maybe it's reason of origin is try as you might undefinable.


Depression is curling up in bed sweaty, dirty, twisted in the sheets, eyelids closed. Wanting to sleep but not able to… it can be knowing we need to muster up every bit of near inhuman strength to get up, to set two feet on the floor and walk five feet or twenty to the bathroom… to the kitchen… to anywhere... but unable to.

Depression is something as simple as saying in your head "I need help" but managing to utter the words to someone is not possible because there appears to be a glitch between your thoughts and expressing them… and trying to overcome this hurdle is really at the end of the day seemingly not even worth the effort.



Well no matter who you are and no matter what you’ve done
There will come a time when you can’t make it on your own

And in your hour of desperation

Know you’re not the only one, praying
Lord above, I need a miracle
I need a miracle



Depression is putting on a false smile and emitting an unnaturally high pitched tone of "No, I'm fine, really" to concerned friends on the phone and as soon as you hang up a drop escapes from your tear duct… depression is not bothering with a tissue but wiping your wet face with your arm like a three year old.

Depression means shutting those who love you out… everything changes out there in the world while inside behind closed doors your world stays stagnant… time freezes in your home minus the spoiled milk and expired groceries in the fridge… voicemails go unanswered and phone calls are ignored… being social might be just what's needed and yet to an aching, weary body and mentally zapped mind it just feels like too much effort to exert.


In your hour of desperation
Know you’re not the only one, 
praying Lord above, I need a miracle


Depression is missing events you should have been at… parties you should have attended… and believing that just because you actually stepped outside the front door to retrieve the mail it was an okay day… and if you absolutely had to venture out… meaning driving a vehicle it was an automatic victory when you retuned home not having driven off a bridge.


Depression is being an atheist… or a Christian… it can affect anyone... and yet feeling at the mercy of a nearly unexplainable deep black hole that wants to suck you up like a powerful vacuum or relentless twister. Like the lyrics you feel like a man in the box, censored by this unfathomable dark presence, as you can't even really begin to articulate, it's like you've been bound and gagged… and try as you may you simply cannot seem to escape.



He lost his job and all he had in the fall of ’09
Now he feared the worst, that he would lose his children and his wife

So he drove down deep into the woods and thought he’d end it all

And prayed, “Lord above, I need a miracle”

lyrics by Third Day; I Need A Miracle

Depression is finding a snag in your best sweater and not caring like you would have weeks before… it's wearing a jacket when not really necessary because it offers some sense of protection, comfort or shield from a world that's just to difficult to face right now.


Depression is knowing God's plans far exceed the circumstances of your day but just wanting those circumstances to stop, wondering if they ever will… or maybe it's wanting to believe His plan… but for whatever reason thinking maybe it doesn't apply to this time… or maybe it's being tired… just so incredibly tired of the circumstances piling up like an endless pile of debris that needs to be set aflame and extinguished out once and for all.


Depression is a bowl of cereal for breakfast at two o'clock in the afternoon and you weren't even out partying the night before… it's using every last bowl you own in the kitchen sink… ten dirty bowls wait to be rinsed and placed in the dishwasher… instead, you move on to using mugs… and from there every last glass in the house.


Depression is not cracking a smile at anything… the comedic efforts of the late night shows, the spoofs, the grumpy cat pics… nothing elicits a laugh… suddenly laughter and levity seem so frivolous and a waste of energy you cannot expend… especially where it doesn't exist.


Depression is your mind wandering… wandering to places it shouldn't go… places that are dark, in shadows and yet somehow infiltrate your mind even if momentarily… places that bring finality, final destinations and no re-do's, no fresh starts, no next chapters…


Depression. 
it sucks. 


I know. 

I was once there. 

Maybe right now you are. 

Depression doesn't have to be your final destination.

There are people who care.
Myself included. 

People who will help.

Even if you don't know how to help yourself.

There are those who will guide you to the next place…


A better place… 

one that doesn't end in...

"She was really struggling."

"He didn't get better."

"She seemed okay the last time I saw her."

"I had no idea he was depressed."

"Gone way too soon." 

"Why didn't I see the signs?"

"Did anyone realize?" 

"Why didn't someone help her?"

"I am heartbroken." 


DEPRESSION AFFECTS US ALL


You may be thinking: 

Things will never get better. 

There's no hope. 

God doesn't care. 


Today I'm writing to let you know that the cross tells you otherwise… Jesus died for you… His love shined beautifully for you before you were ever born… knit together in your mother's womb He already had a plan for you and your life. When were struggling or suffering… when He seems so far away… when you question if He is listening… trust that He is there… He is working diligently to accomplish far more in our lives and us than you could ever imagine. What's to come is another day, the real possibility of better… and in that is encouragement and even better... hope!


© gps-gracepowerstrength.blogspot.com ~ 2014 





Symptoms of Depression via psychcentral.com

Not everyone who is depressed has every symptom. Some people experience a few symptoms, some many. Severity of symptoms varies with individuals and also varies over time.

Depression:

  • Persistent sad, anxious, or "empty" mood
  • Feelings of hopelessness, pessimism
  • Feelings of guilt, worthlessness, helplessness
  • Loss of interest or pleasure in hobbies and activities that were once enjoyed, including sex
  • Decreased energy, fatigue, being "slowed down"
  • Difficulty concentrating, remembering or making decisions. 
  • Insomnia, early-morning awakening, or oversleeping
  • Appetite and/or weight loss or overeating and weight gain
  • Thoughts of death or suicide; suicide attempts
  • Restlessness, irritability
  • Persistent physical symptoms that do not respond to treatment, such as headaches, digestive disorders, and chronic pain


WAYS TO HELP SOMEONE WITH DEPRESSION: 

BEGIN A CONVERSATION WITH THEM:

  • I have been feeling concerned about you lately.
  • Recently, I have noticed some differences in you and wondered how you are doing.
  • I wanted to check in with you because you have seemed pretty down lately.

SPECIFIC QUESTIONS TO ASK THEM:

  • When did you begin feeling like this?
  • Did something happen that made you start feeling this way?
  • How can I best support you right now?
  • Specifically what can I do for you? 
  • Will you promise to call me or text me with specifics? 
  • Will you promise to call me any time day or night if need be?
  • Have you thought about getting help?
  • Who is your primary doctor? 
  • Are you drinking?
  • Have you recently begun any new medications or stopped any?
  • Who else knows you are experiencing these symptoms?

RELATED POSTS

Transparency: Unmasking Our Worries 


Friday, April 25, 2014

Our Laundry Is Not "Dirty" But Clean



Our Past…. 


Two simple words that hold such weight and meaning behind them. 



spring 2012 

some names have been omitted in this post 


************************************


I heard the ping of the stainless steel toaster and knew that meant my Eggo waffles were now crispy and hot, ready to eat. I snatched them up and placed them on a white plate and reached for the Aunt Jemima syrup. Still in gray plaid pajama pants and a charcoal gray sleep shirt, since I had some down time before heading out for the day, I padded barefoot to the mahogany kitchen table with my plate. 

The laptop computer on the nearby granite countertop was opened to Facebook and my glance took quick note that the message icon was lit up with a red notification showing I had a new message in my inbox along with a new friend request. Immediately the usual ambivalent feelings stirred in me upon seeing I had a friend request and wondering whom it could be. Just seeing that red icon lit gave me gnawing trepidation. Someone from my past was reaching out. That past that often seemed like it belonged to someone else because so much time had passed  other times like it was yesterday but was still mine nonetheless. But who was it?


Part of me wanted nothing more than to just swiftly shut the laptop and go about my dayback to my breakfast that was waiting for me, errands and the signs of spring outside. It had been a very mild winter and the outside world had begun to prematurely explode with spring colors and temperatures in the sixties. Tiny green buds were about to bloom into delicate white fluffs on our bare crepe myrtles that would soon resemble snowy umbrellas. Pockets of yellow daffodils were in full bloom in our flowerbeds and it was only February. I was anxious to get on with my day and forget whatever was awaiting me in my inbox but curiosity overcame me. Pushing my feelings of dread aside I used my long nimble fingers to hover the cursor over the inbox icon then clicked. I had no idea what to expect next. Relief ensued, washing over me. It was a sweet friend from high school reaching out, wondering whatever had happened to me our junior year, as I had inexplicably disappeared. What came next was a flood of memories as I typed a response to her. 

***********************
Spring 1994 
some names have been omitted or changed in this post

The next morning I realized Bao had never told his grandmother I was staying with him in their apartment. Yet it became quite clear she wasn't aware of my presence when she caught a glimpse of me in his bedroom through the cracked door. I listened as he spoke to her quietly in the early morning hours and cringed, instinctively knowing this wasn't going to end well. Seeing me, she pushed the door open with all of her tiny frame, knocking Bao slightly off balance as he tried to brace himself with the wielding wood door. An angry and pointed Vietnamese string of accusing words came hurling at me with a look of disgust and then a look of pained disappointment at Bao. I couldnt focus well as my eyes were blurred from wearing my contacts to bed and having nothing to store them in left me with wearing them to sleep each night only to have them completely fogged over each morning with sleepy debris. Before I escaped to the bathroom to take them out and rinse them as best I could, I tried to pull a blanket around me as I sat on the mattress in Baos dark blue pajama pants and oversized t-shirt. Bao quickly tried to assuage her by gently taking her shoulder and explaining that nothing was going on, that we were merely friends and he was trying to help me because I was in a bind. I felt terribly bad for upsetting this older woman unnecessarily and especially after she had not only welcomed me into her home as a dinner guest but also unwittingly and unknowingly as a continual overnight one too. Bao shrank from his grandmother's rapid admonition and I realized this wasnt going to work. He realized it too as I quickly fled to the bathroom to change back into my jeans and turtleneck. I hadnt done anything with Bao, as we were just friends, yet I was acutely aware of his grandmothers internal thoughts of me with her eyes pouring into my back. My face crimson from her stare, I glanced back to throw her one last genuinely apologetic look and she slammed the door shut in my face with a glare.

***********************

So often we walk around wounded with scars endured from past hurts and traumas that occurred in our past. We walk around with hurts so deep and past experiences so unbelievable that if ever dared uttered to anyone, people predictably gasp and say "I never would have guessed"… or "You don't fit the stereotype"… maybe even "You? No way…"

And yet, it was you. You may not fit the stereotype, you may not look the part, you may not fit the bill but that was you… it's your life, your story, your history and has undeniably contributed to who you are today. Any scars we bear no matter how deep, how inexplicably painful... we wear often hidden. We don't dare talk of rape, we don't dare talk of one night stands, or pre-marital sex, or maybe an abortion… we don't dare talk about our ugliest moments, our most heart wrenching times that brought us to our knees asking God for divine intervention because we have literally been faced with way more than we could ever handle…. we don't dare speak of the ugliness behind the marital bedroom door and the bruises endured by an abusive spouse… we don't dare show anyone weakness or internal pain because that would mean opening ourselves up for vulnerability, judgment and the wrath of people who love to hate those that speak truth and are beautifully honest even when life's moments are  anything but those of beauty. We don't talk about why we aren't wearing our wedding ring even though everyone notices and those that care, even strangers pray for us… we don't talk about how we really aren't "fine" but were dying inside because were depressed and hanging on by a mere thread wondering how we will make it to the next day much less the next hour.

There is so much that we don't talk about when it comes to what were going through and where we've been. Because at the end of the day aren't we often worried about what people will say? Don't we all at some point worry that our story will be seen as "dirty" and (gasp) then we might be viewed as "dirty" too? We shudder to think of that happening and so we close off… we keep quiet… we cloak our face with a poker expression, we don't talk about it and instead kick it all under the rug like not-to-be-seen dirt clods.

Some people may say our story, our life experiences are comparable to "dirty laundry". I remember sitting in a cafe years ago with a group of women… one who had recently endured a terrible loss, a loss no woman ever wants to experience… a miscarriage. My heartstrings were pulled and I felt great sadness, empathy and pain for her. As empathetic concerns and condolences were shared in hushed tones with her one woman spoke "Why on earth didn't you say something? I care, I'm your friend." she stressed to her. Knowing her, I knew she was coming from a well intentioned place and was awed to see her transparent honesty with her friend. Yet the grieving mother seemed suddenly annoyed and snapped "I'm not going to post my dirty laundry all over!"

Her words stayed with me for a long time… and still linger with me today.... her miscarriage, her baby, her loss could never ever be compared to "dirty laundry"… it was out of her control… it wasn't her fault… it wasn't a wanted loss… and it certainly wasn't dirty. Naturally by all means it was her right to keep her loss private and only between close family and friends.

It's certainly everyone's right to keep their laundry in the basket and not let anyone see it…. but it's not dirty laundry in a closed hamper. The "dirt", the "guilt", the "shame" and the "ugly" has been bleached and removed. 

No matter what we've been through by someone else's doing, what's happened by mere unfortunate circumstance or what we've experienced through our own sinful choices, our stumbles and fleshly errors… we can remember that we don't have to call our past "dirty laundry".

Because of Christ's love for us we have been cleansed. 

© gps-gracepowerstrength.blogspot.com ~ 2014 








Some of you were once like that. But you were cleansed; you were made holy; you were made right with God by calling on the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.

To My Readers: 

Thank you for reading, commenting & sharing! 



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