My own personal "Ghost of Christmas past"...

We all know the story of the miser Ebenezer Scrooge, what a big jerk he was, and how he was visited on Christmas Eve by three ghosts, each in turn showing him his past, present, and future.  Ebenezer had many regrets in his life. He had a lady love.  He was once young and happy, and once he had hopes and dreams like anyone else.  Thankfully the three ghosts showed him the err of his ways, redirected him in the best possible way, and made him into a kind man who cared for others.  A nice warm fuzzy ending.

This week I had the misfortune being visited by the ghosts of my own personal past.   My own personal Horror Story.  It snuck up on me, out of the blue.  I did not ask for it, nor was I looking for it.  It literally fell out of the sky, out of the blue, and landed very unceremoniously into my lap.

Many years ago, like many young ladies, I  dated cruel men, got myself into many a pickle through my own ignorance, lack of experience, a certain degree of innocence, complete lack of street smarts, and my annoying habit of being too trusting.  Also at that time, looking for love... As many young women do.. unfortunately my crime was that I was not very particular in my choices of the company I kept be they male or female.  At that time I did not choose girlfriends very well either.  I was not particular and I did not choose well.  Chaos ensued.  Trust me I am not bragging and God knows I'm not proud.  Yes, we all make mistakes.  In my humble opinion, at that age in particular.

This particular 'Ghost of Christmas Past' which has showed up uninvited and unannounced has seriously upset my apple cart.  Many old memories have flooded back in a rush.... And with it, bringing up other horrific memories of other things... since in my mind they are all rather lumped together.. BUT, we all have that one person that hurt us above all others..

I am currently renewing my commitment to the laity of an order I've been with for a year now.. and as much as I love my faith, and I adore the members of the order, and the spirituality of the order... right now I am so depressed I am struggling to pray.

 I feel like everyone around me is dying. Or has already died.  I wonder about when the time comes and I die.  Will anybody remember me? I certainly have not done anything memorable. I did not exactly leave my mark on the world. I know most of us don't.  No reason why I would be any different.  I am certainly not remarkable in any way.  I'm just a fat frumpy Southern housewife... Ironically though as bad as I feel about myself, I know that I mean something to God.

I love my husband very much. He is well aware that I suffer from clinical depression and anxiety.  Bless his heart he does everything he can to help me. He tries to listen and understand. What he does not know is that I don't tell him everything because honestly I believe in my heart it would hurt him.  Even though it has nothing to do with him.  On the contrary he is my rock.  All of those guys I dated in the past.. who used me, abused me, assaulted me, lied, cheated, drugged me, and treated me and told me I was nothing.  My husband however, may not be on the cover of GQ magazine, but he is my prince. No matter how fat, broke out, hideous, and fugly I might look.. he has always put me on a pedestal.. which I do not deserve and never have.. he has always put me first.. and treats me like a princess.  I love him and I'm thankful for him.

All this being said though, I do not understand why I still have a knee-jerk reaction to being hurt, even though my husband and I have been together since 1993.  He has never been mean to me or raised a hand to me in any way.   He treats me better than I deserve.  And I don't know why.  Before when I was abused and abandoned... I didn't know why that happened then either.  I was the same person then as I am now?!  I'm just older.  Yes I have more experience.. a side effect of life.. you can't help but gain experience just from Simply living day today..  I don't understand it though.  I don't understand why one guy after another treated me like I was nothing.. and then I have a good husband.. who treats me completely opposite..  don't think that I'm not grateful.. my husband has given me the marriage and the children and the home that I always wanted.  I know he would never do anything to hurt me. He never has and he's never given me reason to feel that way.  But I have never lost that mind-set.. that mentality.. a feeling like an abused dog.  I was never starved and chained to a tree.. I never had to be rescued by The Humane Society.. but in some ways I kind of get how those dogs might feel.  Clearly I've never been starved. Snort. Quite the opposite.   PTSD?  I've had that diagnosis given to me before.  Maybe that's it.  Maybe I'm just crazy.  Maybe I'm just too screwed up.  Maybe God allowed me to go through that for His own purposes..  only He knows the full big picture.  I have complete faith in my Lord.  Everybody suffers... everybody knows that.  There is not one person on this planet who has not suffered in one way or another.  Suffering the death of a loved one.. suffering from loneliness.. suffering from the lack of bread... From the lack of clean water..  suffering because you've been put into a nursing home and your family doesn't bother with you anymore.  Mother Teresa said that loneliness was one of the worst things in the world.. that was I believe she said the greatest form of suffering with loneliness.. I may be misquoting her.. but regardless she was not wrong because everybody does suffer.   Certainly I would never expect to get a free pass on this.

Anyway back to my point.. very abruptly I got through another person.. in a manner of speaking.. somewhat of a visit from one of those ghosts of my past that I only wanted to forget.  It is a sin to not forgive somebody. I have done my best to forgive.. and when I sit down I think about it, I really do forgive this person.. but the pain of the suffering they caused me.. well... It's sort of like an old battle wound.. when it rains it still aches.  Except in this case it's not the rain.  This wound has been reopened.  The scar tissue did not numb it as much as you would think..  probably half of it is the shock of it all.. I mean who the crap expects "the Ghost of Christmas past" to visit you? Especially in mid-January while having a sinus infection?  Too many things I am reminded of. Things I wanted to forget. Memories and pain and hurt I wanted to stay buried.  And excavation was performed without my consent.  And I'm left having to identify the body.  The broken body of me.. when I was left a broken shell.  I can't believe I thought that was all behind me. Dear God why am I so stupid?

Timing stinks. This rude awakening I just got. Being sick with this stupid sinus problem. And currently I feel like I'm surrounded by Death.  Before you start thinking I'm going to off myself, rest assured I'm not. I have a teenage daughter who is visually impaired with autism. I have an adult daughter. And I have the most beautiful little grandson you've ever seen.  I may be depressed. And yeah I might feel like giving up sometimes.  But I do not want to miss a single day with these children God has blessed me with.

I'm looking forward to seeing the Sisters in the order again.  I am so grateful for their spiritual formation and guidance.. they help me remember that God has got this. And that no matter how bad things may get that I am a child of God. And his Divine Mercy is infinite.

So what will happen with this Ghost of Christmas Past showing up? I really don't know.  I would rather sweep it under the rug and pretend I don't know.  It hurts less that way.  And this ghost certainly does not deserve one second of my attention.  I left that in the past and that's where it needs to stay.

And my death that will come about one day as it will to all of us... Will I be missed?  Did my life even make a difference?  What will they say about me after I'm gone?  That I had a screw loose? One thing I sincerely hope that they do say... Is that I loved my Lord, I love my husband, I love my children and grandchildren. I love my family and friends. I tried my best. I honestly did my best to help when and where I could.  I was never perfect never claimed to be.. I was not a perfect wife or a perfect mom.  But I did the best that I could with the knowledge that I had at that moment of my life.  

Riding Wild Horses

Disclaimer:  I probably should not drink and blog, while depressed.  Ah well, it is what it is.   You have been warned....

Lately has brought back a flood of memories of my very dear friend Stephanie..  who left this world too soon.  Which, though painful and depressing as hell..   all this emotion is actually quite welcome since I as a result I was given some old pictures of her.  God.. what a precious gift.  Pics from 1992.. the year I started at the answering service and I was put at the computer next to her.. and there she was sitting.. in her U2 concert shirt.. and then began the friendship.  

I have already cried my eyes out..  now I am immersing myself in the wonders of U2.   Our favourite band in the world.  My first U2 concert was with her.   November 1997.  6th row on the floor in front of the stage.  Standing on top of metal folding chairs, (the chairs were chained together) AND it was raining.  :)  It was awesome!!!

I remember when she first passed away in 2005.. I couldn't listen to U2 for about two years.  Even now, ten years later, there are still songs I can't listen to without weeping.

Stephanie and I had a song.  Okay well actually we had two of them.  The other one was Sinead O'Connor's "Nothing Compares 2 U".  (that's a whole 'nother story)...  But.. "Who's Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses" was "our" main song.

Why was this our song?  She said it always made her think of me.   I told her "things" I know that I "wasn't supposed to".   1992-93 was a major pivotal time of my life.. I was scared, and "didn't know what I wanted".  She was my trusted confidant.  I held nothing back.  She was a good listener, and she never judged.  I was "dangerous, because I was honest".  I trusted too easily..  She was forever trying to lovingly toughen me up.  God love her.

I was pregnant.  Not under good circumstances.  I was that "accident waiting to happen."  I always joke she delivered my baby.  Best ever Aunt who wasn't really an aunt. :)

I would have "lied, if she'd asked me to".  (She loved me enough she would never do that)  But at that age, we were young enough and snotty and spirited enough.. you never knew with us..

Steph's been gone almost ten years.   This November 18th..  

I go to were she's buried... still the grave is unmarked..  so I mark it myself with things I bring her.   

So now it's me driving there, to the cemetery.. "in the dirty rain... to the place where the wind calls her name."  

"Under the trees"  ironically next to a river...  it's actually beautiful where she was put to rest.  I hear her in the wind in the trees.  I feel her in the breeze.  She's everywhere, but she meets me there.  💜  She knows.. she's on the other side of that veil.  Almost like on the other side of a mirror.. I can't see her.. but I know she is there.  I know she watches out for me still.  Still being my friend.  

"Hallelujah...Heavens door..."

Dear God, that "door" she "opened"... "I just can't close".... even after ten years... because I want her back.  
Yes I am selfish.  And I. Don't. Care.  
Losing someone is NOT something you "get over".  It's not a cold.

Our "gypsy hearts"...   and I can't help but "look back".  Depression.. 

 "the deeper I spin.."

Who's going to take the place of her?  No one.  No one ever can.  She is still with me.  I feel her.


"You're dangerous 'cause you're honest
You're dangerous, you don't know what you want
Well you left my heart empty as a vacant lot
For any spirit to haunt

Hey hey sha la la
Hey hey

You're an accident waiting to happen
You're a piece of glass left there on the beach
Well you tell me things I know you're not supposed to
Then you leave me just out of reach

Hey hey sha la la
Hey hey sha la la

Who's gonna ride your wild horses
Who's gonna drown in your blue sea
Who's gonna ride your wild horses
Who's gonna fall at the foot of thee

Well you stole it 'cause I needed the cash
And you killed it 'cause I wanted revenge
Well you lied to me 'cause I asked you to
Baby, can we still be friends

Hey hey sha la la
Hey hey sha la la

Who's gonna ride your wild horses
Who's gonna drown in your blue sea
Who's gonna ride your wild horses
Who's gonna fall at the foot of thee

Oh, the deeper I spin
Oh, the hunter will sin for your ivory skin
Took a drive in the dirty rain
To a place where the wind calls your name
Under the trees the river laughing at you and me
Hallelujah, heavens white rose
The doors you open
I just can't close

Don't turn around, don't turn around again
Don't turn around, your gypsy heart
Don't turn around, don't turn around again
Don't turn around, and don't look back
Come on now love, don't you look back

Who's gonna ride your wild horses
Who's gonna drown in your blue sea
Who's gonna taste your salt water kisses
Who's gonna take the place of me

Who's gonna ride your wild horses
Who's gonna tame the heart of thee"

~Bono, U2

Feeling "Off"

Somethings... off. I feel awful. Like, not 'in pain', just not feeling too hot, no energy, and I have SLEPT for the last 2 days. Like.. if I sit down I wakeup to find I've BEEN asleep for a WHILE. I sleep at night, and then fall asleep for HOURS during the day... and when I wake up I am still exhausted. I realize my weight and being anemic have a LOT to do with it, but you know, it's not like I just woke up like this.. it just seems worse than usual. I do NOT 

want to go to the doctor because I think it is stupid to pay someone to tell me to lose weight and take iron pills. (can we all say "duh").  

If you could just say a little prayer for me, I would appreciate it. We have not only Special Olympics bowling tomorrow, but a family wedding too. I wonder how the heck I'm going to get through.

Because my dearest hubby has far more sense than I do, he has reminded me I've not had a vitamin in days. And I've drank sweet iced tea non-stop for days as well. How dumb can I be? Down the old hatch goes a multi vitamin (with 156% iron) and two iron pills, and washed down with milk. I'm anemic.  

It's okay, really. I know it seems like over-kill on the iron.

My sweet friend just reminded me, and I got out my "elixir" I keep in a mason jar in the fridge.. a good 'shot' of elderberry syrup with local raw honey... I'll do that again tomorrow. I need that boost.

Taking some of my recently made, lovely bone broth, I'm making rice to add quickly to things (like hot broth for a quick soup) for the weekend. Yeah, it may be rice, but it will have that good nutrition of bone broth in it. AND I'm vowing to do a little walking tomorrow. Maybe not much, but some. I need to get some strength back. I feel like I'm always doing this... getting on a healthy eating regime, hitting the 'hippie food' harder, and after a while I cave and end up eating all the garbage that got me into this pickle to start with.  

I cannot give up.

Blessed Mother, pray for me as I strive to stay healthy for my family.

A Sunday of Tears

A Sunday of Tears

Where to begin?  My daughter had someone hurt her today..  apparently because she is autistic.   Seeing my sensitive, tender-hearted daughter crying because she has such a hard time making and keeping friends upsets me.  All kids have trouble, but I am here to tell you that it is harder for kids who are special needs.  And it's not always the other children.  Sometimes it is the parents.  Ignorance abounds, and it is so, so sad.

It took another mom, (God bless her!) to help me to realize I need to be my daughters playmate.. I knew this of course, but sometimes we just 'need' to 'hear' things, to 'ring that bell' in our brains.  Thank you dear lady!

I have heard that Padre Pio could 'read souls'.  I am wondering if our own Fr. Sal is the same?  After mass we chatted a few moments with friends, and seeing the priest approaching, we were going to just quietly slip out so they could talk.  He stopped us.  Not a word, but called us over.  Looks into my daughter's face, and asked her if she was okay.  She responded she was fine, but had had a "bad morning" but it was better now.  Father Sal told her that when she was sad, she should pray to Jesus and His Mother, and ask them to help her and they would.  Then he hugged her, kissed her face, and told her he loved her.  The floodgates opened.  My daughter wept her little heart out.  I was moved to tears watching the kindness of this dear man, and my little girl.    So afterwards, he made her "pinky promise" that she should call him any time.  Dear, dear sweet man.

So then he turns to me, looks into my eyes, and asks me if I'm taking care of myself.  "I'm trying to..."  He tells me, "You must.  It's important..." Gives me a couple of big hugs and kisses me  (sweet, Grandfatherly old Italian man who always kisses ♥ LOVE HIM!) and then he says it.. he looks into my eyes, like he's looking THROUGH me, and says, "Please open yourself to Jesus".  That's when I realized I'd been "holding my breath" with Jesus..  Father knew.  I don't know HOW he knew..  *I* didn't even know..  Robyn and I were mopping tears all the way out to the car.

Tonight I was reminded about the baby bottles we're supposed to be filling with change for Emergency Pregnancy Services.  This is dear to my heart, so of course I'm happy to save/collect change "for the babies".  So I'm home filling this baby bottle with change, and I look at the slip of paper inside, and it says you can donate the money "in memory" of someone.  

Stephanie

This November will be 8 years since my beautiful 36 year old friend died suddenly, in her sleep, with no warning.  I think of the three babies she lost, and I believe in my heart that now she is with her babies in Heaven..  

I don't know what made her pop into my head.  Her.  Her babies.  But it's been almost 8 years and I swear the pain is just as fresh today as it was the day she died.   I grieve her babies I would have loved like my own children, the way I love my nieces and nephew.  I grieve all the things I said or didn't get to say.  That I didn't get to say goodbye to her.  That she's still in an unmarked grave pains me in a way I can't even describe.. I've even called the cemetery and sobbed, begged, and pleaded if I could get some kind of marker for her..  anyway... I can't shake her tonight.. I miss you Steph.  

Tonight I weep for friends and babies taken away too young and too soon.  For special needs children who feel lonely and friendless... and for sweet loving clergy who comfort us and pray for us all.  Pray for the religious...  they have such a burden to bear..  

God bless them.

Staying In My Catholic Bubble

There's a reason I stay "in my Catholic Bubble".    Out there?  In the world?  It stinks.  

I am having 'one of those days'..    the devil is breathing his 'stanky' hot breath all over me right now, and I'm in a funk.   I've had a few incidents of rudeness from different people.. who have totally hurt my feelings, but I didn't say anything.   I am weary of people trash talking our new pope, whom I LOVE and think he is a Gift from God... and sorry if you have nothing nice to say I'd rather you just not even mention it to me.

So, here is my compilation of the things done/said, where I bit my tongue, and tried to let it go.  

I do NOT worship Mary.  Or statues.  The Catholic Church is NOT the whore of Babylon.   No, I don't eat meat on Friday, and no, I'm not doing that just to annoy you.  

Yes.  I veil at mass.  No, that does not make me holier, nor do I think I'm holier than you.   Honestly I wear it for Jesus, and I promise it actually has nothing to do with you.  Really.

Yes, these are my pets.  Yes, the puppy is part pit bull.  NO, this does not mean she eats/mauls babies.  Yes, I can see how she is threatening to you wanting belly rubs and happily licking your hand.   Clearly she is a blood thirsty killer.

Yes.  These are my kids.  Yes, my eldest has ADHD, and my youngest is legally blind and autistic.  Yes, they know.  No, they don't need you staring at them.  No, I don't need your parenting advice.  And yes, I do home school, and have done so for five years.   No, they do not need to be socialized.  Clearly you do though, to ask me something so inane.   

For Catholics.... Sorry, I pass on the salad bar.   You cannot pick and choose what you want to believe.  You're either faithful or your not.  No, I don't want to listen to your arguments and 'why's.  That's between you and God.  You're not going to change my mind, and no, actually, I'm NOT a 'blind sheep'.   But for Heaven's sake, if you're going to dress like a hooker, and live like the devil, PLEASE quit telling people you're Catholic.  They might actually believe you. :(

PLEASE PUT ON SOME CLOTHES when you attend mass, and PLEASE stop talking through the entire mass.  Some of us actually want to HEAR the priest, and do NOT want to see all your "body parts" hanging out.  Really.

Other moms:   DO NOT talk down to my child, or I will show you first hand how "Westside" I can be.   Please do not cuss and carry on and tell filthy jokes in front of my kids.  Sure, they've heard bad things plenty of times, but as an adult, we need to be setting an example.  While I'm on the subject...  my youngest is in Special Olympics.   I don't want to hear the "R" word.   It is OFFENSIVE.

Now I need to just go have a good cry and get it over with... and tighten up my bubble walls.

A Wasted Lent?

Sometimes, you just have a 'duh' moment.

We've been skipping mass.  Like.. for the last month.  I don't think we've went to mass since Ash Wednesday.  VERY out of character for us.  And I can't blame anyone else.  Just myself.  And as a result, I've cheated myself and my children out of Holy Mass, Communion, and hearing God's Holy Word.  Not to mention I have seriously set a bad example. 

I used a variety of excuses.  All of them valid, true, but still... excuses.  Pain from my stupid hernia.  Lack of sleep.  Depression.  I used all three.. and they were all true.. but I should have went anyway.

Satan has started attacking us lately... and it started, as usual, in small ways that I didn't notice.  And once Old Smut Face gets a toe in, he is like a big festering wound.... it just gets worse until you work on healing it.  

Hubby took down my little Shrine table for Christmas.  Well, my things on it anyway.  I was not happy and squawked against it, but my non-Catholic husband didn't "get it".  He did set up a beautiful (our nicest) Nativity in it's place... but still.  He did leave up my Holy pictures and crucifixes on the walls.  I informed him those were "non negotiable".   He gaudied up our home... and to explain that... Yes, I am married to Clark Griswold from "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation", and anyone who has seen our home during Advent will know I am not exaggerating in the least.  It goes from one property line across to the other.  And he adds more stuff every year.  

We have people who drive by our house every year.... and it's not just on the outside.  It's INSIDE too.  I have actually had to complain that the small Christmas tree in the bathroom was too much.  Snowmen bed sheets, Christmas towels, Christmas dishes.. *sighs*  Yes, go ahead and laugh.  I'd laugh too if some else lived in a Florida version of the North Pole for 2 months a year. LOL  But by golly, I remind my hubby that Jesus IS the 'reason for the season', and my blessed things all stay up.  But... he moved the stuff off my Shrine table.  


Here's a picture of the Nativity he puts on my Shrine table during Advent..
  

Since my depression started smacking me in the face mid-January, I did not put my Shrine table back together.   I have not been to mass.  My prayer life has been... non existent... to be completely honest.  I take no pride in admitting that.  

We've been being attacked, as I said, in small ways, and growing.  Today, I saw another 'sign' in my home that all was not 'right', and it frightened me.   I went to Catholic.com forums, and did some reading in a thread where someone else was being spiritually attacked.  It started to make perfect sense to me.  Old Smut Face was feeding my depression.. and instead of turning to God and to Holy Mass, Old Smut Face convinced me that wouldn't help and HE EVEN CONVINCED ME that I'd have panic attacks if I went...  (I was having them bad for a few weeks.. still a few, but much, MUCH better).   By my ignoring God, Jesus, and His Blessed Mother, I was almost rather kicking them aside... which makes me feel sad and ashamed.  I wonder to myself WHY I listen to Old Smut Face... why do any of us??  Why do we, *I*, believe the lies?  And MAN is he ever SNEAKY!!!  Jerk!!!

So after my epiphany (my "a-ha" moment today), I got busy to work.   First, PRAYER!!!  I took my holy water and went and sprinkled and prayed in every room of the house, (sort of a cleansing), and then got my Shrine table set back up!! :)  I dusted it good, got out my free-standing crucifix and cleaned it, and got out my holy water bottles and candles...  talk about a sigh of relief.  Isn't it 'funny' how something like a little home shrine can make a GINORMOUS difference in the home!?    

The girls and I are going to Confession tomorrow.  And Mass Sunday.  LOL I want to go NOW!!!  But since hubby has the truck at work, I will just have to suck it up and wait.  I did have a talk with my youngest daughter about it.  She admitted she has not been praying as much either, and is happy we are going back to mass.  

I guess sometimes (especially after being away from Holy Mass for a few weeks) we have to shake the dust off, clean away the cobwebs, and of course we run back to Jesus.  It bothers me that I've pretty well "wasted" our Lent.  But, Praise God, we have Holy Week left.  And it will NOT get wasted!!!

+JMJ+  

Depression, A Beauty Queen, & Surviving

Just sharing an article I found.


I have loved and admired Delta Burke since she was on Designing Women.   Beautiful, smart, classy, and definitely Southern.  A Florida girl like me.  We even share the same maiden name.  Delta was everything I ever wanted to be.  

I have loosely followed her over the years... hating it every time the tabloids picked on her, (jerks!), and nobody could say anything bad about her.   She was what I wanted to be, and I would not hear anything negative about her.  I still won't.  


As I got older, and started gaining weight, and even Delta, in all her perfectness, was gaining too.  Well for pity's sake.  If it can happen to a beauty queen, it could happen to anyone.  


I have struggled with depression for years.   Delta was on a television show.. I forget which one... and there were these women on there... some just girls... sobbing... they were depressed.  They hated their bodies.  Hated themselves.  Felt unworthy and unlovable.  Delta sat next to them... I don't remember her saying a lot... but by gosh she had the guts to get up there.. and sit next to them, and she HEARD them as they let their pain out...  I remember watching her face as she listened to them.  Delta got it.  She really did.  Delta has struggled in her personal life.  Depression, OCD,  and Hoarding..  she has suffered.. like so many of us suffer, every day.   She talks about her hospitalization even.  


Someone like Delta who had been there, done that, and inspires others... well.. she inspires 'me'!    When a celebrity is able to stand up and say YES this is something that I struggle with..  it lessens the shame that many depression sufferers feel.  This lady is awesome!!


I just found this article.  It's less than a year old.  I encourage you-all to read this article, if you've ever lived with depression...  I am planning to check out this book, and maybe purchase it.  

On the Couch...with Delta Burke

Actress, Stigmabuster, Survivor.

Published on July 14, 2011 by Deborah Serani, Psy.D. in 

Two Takes on Depression

http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/two-takes-depression/201107/the-couchwith-delta-burke 

Love Beads and Chronic Depression

A small parcel arrived today, addressed to me.  Opening it up, I saw I'd received a glass bead necklace...colorful, pretty, and happy-looking. "Love beads". I immediately put it on.  It's a "bright spot" in this day.  I need it.  When I chance to catch my reflection, I see the beads, and they remind me that there are still some good people left in the world.  It makes me thankful... and appreciative.  Such a small thing, in a world so unlike it used to be.  These beads could not have arrived on a better day.  

I'm having one of 'those' days.  A day that I struggle just to look up.  The sun didn't even shine today, and that was just fine with me.  I stayed in bed too long.  Woke up (finally) with a bad stress headache, took some Excedrin and poured some tea...and admired my new beads.  They're pretty.  Colorful.  All shapes and sizes.  Whomever made these, made them with joy.  And it's evident as I hold them..  The gal who makes these and sends them around the world, does so to "spread love".  I don't think she realizes she has a love ministry. :)  She does though.  A "random act of kindness" just to brighten someones day.  She is herself, a jewel.  And I've never even met her.

Waking up to have my old nemesis 'depression' slap me hard upside the head..   So what brings this all on?  Sometimes something.  Sometimes nothing.  We all have our own problems, our own issues.  Depression is a medical problem... not a personality flaw.  It took me years to finally get that, and not be ashamed.

Life can seriously stink.  My mom is having chemo today.  Saying that 'depresses' me to no end, is a huge understatement.  I don't even want to think about it...  but there it is.

This morning I didn't even want to get up out of bed, but forced myself to.  I have kids, so it's not like I have much of a choice.  No matter how crappy I feel, I have to care for my family.  There are days, if it were not for my kids, I wouldn't even bother to get up at all.  But I do.  And I get up.  No matter how I hurt inside, I love my kids, and I am going to do what I need to do.  They don't deserve a screwed up, dysfunctional depressed mom.  They deserve a mom who is there for them.  A hot meal, clean laundry, and someone to hug and kiss them and let them know how much they are truly loved.  So I washed clothes.  Steamed Japanese pumpkin, washed dishes, and cared for my family.  A mom does what she must.  What she should.  Family before self... always.  That's how God made us.

Checking out local news...The news station reported that the scumbag who murdered poor little Somer Thompson went to the state prison. GOOD. However, I can't help but wonder if he will befriend murderer Joshua Phillips, who killed little Maddie Clifton. Both these creeps were local. Neither of these two will ever see the light of day again, God willing.  I have trouble with the thought that these two murderers, like many others, are given 'life', (at tax payer expense), while their innocent victims received death. I know revenge is the Lords, not ours.  But sometimes that's not so easy to feel that way, especially when the mothers of these murdered little girls are crying on tv.  As a mom myself, I can't imagine the hell these moms went through, and go through every day for the rest of their lives.  It's just not right!!!

Next to murderers.. pedophiles. I have a problem with the fact that our 'egg man' who we were buying our eggs from is a registered predator/offender.  One, whom I might add, was quite interested in my 11 yr old daughter.  Obviously we stopped buying eggs from him the moment I found out.  But what if I hadn't found out?  What if I'd continued going there, and he hurt my daughter?  The thought just turns my stomach...

Reading too much, seeing too much.. thinking too much.  Between child murderers, and child predators, leads me to an unholy place in my mind that I don't like to visit.  These heinous crimes and sickos unfortunately remind of an evil, SICK person who strategically planned and plotted, and successfully hurt someone that I love, and this piece of trash is walking around freely, unpunished.  It angers me that I have no proof... or I'd have him arrested in a New York minute. No, I have no proof.. but I KNOW what he did.  It makes me sick.  SICK!!  I want him punished.  He'll screw up eventually, I hope, and this time be jailed.. and I hope when they do they will throw away the key... and hope too that another inmate does to him the same as he has done to his victim(s).

I know it's wrong to hate anyone.  But this person I do hate.  I hate him with every ounce of my being.  I need to go to confession about this...  I've had this brewing and stewing inside me for about a month now.. and no matter how much I suppress it, it manages to come back to mind... It is a torment, make no mistake.   

Calling the cops is a joke when you have no proof.  Heck, reporting something when you DO have proof is even a joke.  Four months ago an incident occurred in which I lost any remaining faith I had in the local police.  They are just thugs with guns, in my humble opinion.  I am sure there are still some good cops out there.. but I believe they are far outnumbered by the bad ones.  No one cares anymore.  

When I was a little girl, "Officer Friendly" came to our elementary school and talked to us children about safety and how the nice policeman was always your friend and would always help you.  I believed that baloney, well into my adulthood.  Was even dumb enough to teach it to my own girls.  My youngest daughter, at age 9, saw for herself that cops didn't care when we were in Tampa a couple of years ago.  How is it that a nine-year-old gets something, and I don't?  Am I that thick headed?  Apparently so. 

Mental struggle... angst.. whatever you want to call it... I hate it.  I remember once I had a therapist... and I paid him for me just to sit there while he told me about his stupid hobby...telescopes.  Then there are the "shrinks" who just want to give you pills and send you on your way.  Why do I want to pay anyone for help when I know they are seeing a shrink themselves, taking my money, and helping mask serious problems instead of fixing things?  

Maybe I say too much in my blog.  Maybe I don't say enough.  Maybe someone is reading this and thinking I am a pathetic whine-bag who needs to put on my big girl pants and get a grip.   

Maybe they're right. 

Coping, and Keeping My Head Up.

Today I am finding it hard just to keep my head up.  With bad memories filling my mind, recent bad news, and then some very devastating news dropped into my lap on Monday, I am literally just spending my energy.. just sitting upright.  What I want to do is crawl under the bed, never come out, and stay there until I die.

Since I am a cow, and there is no 'underneath' on our bed, it's an impossibility anyway.  

Right now I am finding it difficult to get along with hubby, my girls... heck... even the dogs. The smallest things are setting me off...  infuriating me, and then I dissolve into tears.  Panic attacks earlier today, and then a three hour sleep, leaving my girls to fend for themselves.  Well, as the saying goes... while the cats away, the mice will play.  I know in my heart they didn't do anything bad... just not what I wanted them to do.  And as  result... I flew off the handle.

Today is just NOT a good day.

Back in November, I received a EWTN tote bag as a gift.  I've never even used it.  And now, I cannot find it. Anywhere. I am deeply worried that my daughters mixed it up in the organic co-op bags, and if they did, odds are I won't be getting it back.  I know it's 'just' a bag.  But this has gotten me upset.  Funny how little things can upset you so much when you're already stressed out to your limits.  I want my darn bag, and I want it now.  That sounds so irrational.  But there again, I am NOT feeling rational at all.  

Earlier, during my panic attacks... I wondered to myself if I would finally just get so stressed out and freaked out that I would just drop dead of a heart attack.   I have considered, perhaps a mental breakdown?  That sounds more likely.. as it 'feels' close as it is.  Not that I'm an expert on these things.  I have known of people who've gotten locked up... like.. mentally.  I have pondered, what makes me any different from them?  The ones I've known have either 'snapped'... (as in, doing nutso things for no reason), and the others because they became a danger to themselves or to someone else.  I am certainly not going to 'off' myself.  (don't believe in that, and am also not that selfish), and though the thought of knocking someone's block off is sometimes quite appealing, I would not actually do it.

So that leaves being nutso/irrational.

What is coping?  What is 'normal' coping?  Freaking out about my EWTN tote bag?  Livid that my daughter cooked fish instead of eating the leftovers before they go bad?  Mad that someone promised to do something, and hasn't lifted a finger, and has once again (IMHO) lied to me and I was again stupid enough to believe them?  ON TOP of all the REAL stuff that's ripping me apart inside.  These little things are just that.  Little things.  But right now they feel like BIG things.

It is said that God never gives us more than we can handle.  Okay, well now I am wondering  if God has checked His gauge lately.  How much is enough?  I am screaming 'Uncle' as it is.  I actually hate complaining. So many others have suffered far worse... and here I am crying in my Cheerwine cola.  How do you cope?  How does anyone?  Why am I finding it so hard to pray?   

Sometimes......

Sometimes I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.  And sometimes I am so sad I don't even want to get out of bed.

  

Sometimes I want to do all I can to please... and sometimes I wonder why I even bother.  Because sometimes I can't seem to do anything right.  And sometimes certain people make me feel so bad... that I just want to disappear.  Forever.

Sometimes I feel like I have to keep up a front.  And sometimes I feel like it's not even worth the effort to fake it.

Sometimes I wonder if real, true friends even exist.  Sometimes I think a friend is someone who is nice as long they can manipulate you, use you, or control you.  Sometimes I think the worst one is the finger pointing "friend" who plays the "holy" card..  another way to manipulate!!

Sometimes I think bad thoughts.  And sometimes I dream as a child would dream.  Sometimes I want to move far away from anyone who ever knew me, and forget my own name.

Sometimes, I just laugh.  And sometimes, I cry.  Sometimes I rejoice, and sometimes I can't get the tears to stop.