Silencing the Toad

I don't know what's up, but the last couple of weeks I've been fighting off some feelings of discouragement.  Now, don't be alarmed.  Thankfully, it's been over a year now since I got my meds adjusted and was able to leave a 2 year depression behind.  I'm not depressed like that (and so thankful!)  But, sometimes, every once in a while, despite how ridiculously BLESSED I am, I get a little discouraged.

I have dreams.  I think most people have dreams.  Some people are actively living theirs, others are working toward them, some are just aware, and a few may not even know of them.  But they are there.  Dreams are there, buried deep, deep in the innermost tiny back closet of one's heart.  They may be locked so tightly and bound with the strongest chains, but they DO exist.  To dream is to be human.  If not for hoping for something better for ourselves, our families, our world, then there would be little point in existence.

Garelito Photos

So, even though I used to actively try NOT to dream (it was too disappointing to do so), over the last several years I've allowed myself to believe a little bit again.  Bullied by life's rough school of knocks, I learned to armor myself against the hurt of failure, disappointment, and loss.  I didn't have the tools to handle these feelings that seemed an ever-present reality.  But now, now I've grown some.  I have a loving and kind husband who teaches me that there IS a reason to hold out hope - despite whatever odds one may feel she is facing.  I have been blessed with kind and caring friends who have helped open my heart to art, and in doing so have inadvertently opened a door of vulnerability and rawness - both of which are necessary (in my humble opinion) to live creatively.   Now, though I still struggle and am far from where I'd like to be, I have more coping skills for dealing with those failures, disappointments, and losses.  Part of living a creative life (though admittedly, only part time), means learning to love the beauty in nearly everything; learning to accept flaws as part of the completed project, and having joy in the creation rather than just the finished product.  That doesn't apply to just art itself, but the very essence of living.  I have learned to be a little more gentle with myself, to accept my weaknesses.  No, not just accept them -but almost embrace them - for they make me who I am, for better or worse.

All that being said, I've still been fighting off discouragement.  I feel alone in so many ways.  I want to have a child(ren) someday.  I'm 38 and I may not get to.  I may even get too old to adopt a child.  And, even if I did/do, I'm going to be in SUCH a different place than my peers.  Most people my age have children in at least their teens, and some even entering college this year.  I haven't even begun.  If I adopt by the time I'm 40, I'll be nearly 60 by the time that child is graduating high school.  Imagine a 50 year old at "Mom's Club" with a bunch of early twenty to thirty year-olds.  I'm going to be the oddball, just as I am now.

Bernadette Darnell

I feel alone because most of my friends have families that take up the majority of their time.  I understand and heartily agree that family comes first.  But, at the same time, I often feel like they are too busy with their lives to have time for me.  I love my husband, but he is quite the introvert and I often seek outside friendships to help fill the conversational void.  Besides, even the best husband can't do what a good girlfriend or two can.  It's a special bond that women share.

Because I am outgoing (more extroverted by nature), I tend to be the one to invite others and get the ball rolling.  I'm the planner, the organizer.  I get it.  If you're introverted, planning a get-together is akin to getting a tooth pulled.  I try to remember that.  But sometimes, especially lately for some reason, I just want someone else to put forth the effort.  I don't want to be the one who always initiates things.  I want to feel like others want to have ME in THEIR lives.  But again, because my dreams are slow to fruition, I'm in a different place than them, and I can't fault them their busy-ness.  I would likely be the same, if I were a mother.

Bernadette Darnell

So, that's where I am.  I'm backwards from my peers.  It gets lonely sometimes.  Discouragement knocks.  But, I must use the tools I've tried to develop to fight back - to remember that I DO matter, if to no one else, at least to my husband.  I know it'll get better.  It's just a temporary feeling.  My happiness and zest will come back to me soon.  I'm HOPING, anyway.  Because, that's who I am now - I'm a person who hopes and dreams.  I have unlocked my heart and I will push away the doubts and fears and keep trying to live a creative life, complete with blemishes, mess-ups, re-dos.  One day my life's work may be the beautiful piece I envision it can be.

p.s.  To those who read my blog - this is not an attempt to garner sympathy or "Oh, but we do love you"s.  The blogging is for me to be REAL and PRESENT.  It's for me - part of MY way of living a creative life.

When You Least Expect It

I'm thankful for a wonderful, kind, gentle husband.  As I've mentioned, I grew up with an alcoholic dad.  While not all alcoholics are violent or abusive, my dad had some, shall we say, "anger issues".  Like most other little girls, I dreamed of growing up, marrying a wonderful husband, and having many babies.  But, with my dad as the primary male role model in my life, I didn't hold out much hope for the "wonderful husband" part.

Engagement Photo

Then I grew up.  Or, I grew up some, anyway.  I went off to college and began to have many wonderful experiences.  I learned all kinds of new things, made new friends, and even dated a bit.  I was thrilled to find that there were many different types of men in the world.  I became convinced I would find the "perfect" guy and live "happily ever after."

The Kiss

Then I grew up some more.    When I was 21,  I took the opportunity to serve as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.   While a missionary, I became fluent in Spanish and was able to continue to use my newfound skills when I moved to Texas in the Fall of 1999.   By the time I was 30, I had managed to not only elude marriage, but find myself a degree and a career.  I became a bilingual social worker.

As you know, social workers don't make a lot.  The average salary of a social worker is about on par with that of a school teacher.  But, I was on my own, paying my own way, had my own apartment, etc.  I made friends, but many of them got married.  At one point I found myself pretty alone.  Not only that, but I got fired from my job for a mistake I had made.  It was not a pretty time in my life.  I got internet service in my apartment so I could look for jobs online without having to go to the library to use the computer there.  I spent HOURS every day combing the classifieds.  After only a few days of this, I hit a pretty bad low.  I knew something had to change, and soon!  I decided I needed to try to make new friends.  For this reason, and ONLY this reason, I decided to join a singles site.  I know, I know, it sounds like I was looking for a relationship.  But, I really and truly wasn't.  I just wanted to make friends so I wasn't so isolated.

Wedding Day

People always say it happens when you least expect it.  Which, I always found to be silly.  I mean, when you get to a certain point in your life, you know the next step is to find the right person, settle down and have a family (If that's the life path you choose.)  I wanted that, too.  When I was a kid, I thought I'd get married at age 19 like my mom.  I never intended to be single at 30.  But, that is where I was.  And, admittedly, from the age of about 26 or so, I kept looking around every corner thinking that surely IT would happen.  But, when it didn't, I finally had to accept the fact that I might never get married.  I had to learn to be okay with that.  And, I did.  Through lots of prayer (and long discussions with my mom), I accepted that Heavenly Father has a plan for each one of us and even though I didn't understand it, I had to trust Him and His plan for me (which, apparently, did not include marriage.)

Thanksgiving 2008

So that's where I was.  Alone, broke, and searching for friends.  And then I met Lloyd.  There are so many funny things about the way our early courtship went.  The first being, I couldn't even see what he looked like from his bio picture.  He had some old, out of date picture where he was sitting on a couch about 10 feet away from where the photo was being shot.  Digital imaging wasn't very common then, and the 35mm shot was blurry and hard to see.  All I could tell was that he had long legs (as they were stretched out in front of him) and dark hair.  Other than that, the image was fuzzy.  But, I read his bio and he seemed like a genuinely NICE GUY.  That's the kind of friends I wanted to make:  genuinely nice people.  I wasn't looking for partyers or game-players male or female.

My 35th Birthday 2009

Lloyd and I started emailing back and forth and he was the kindest and most thoughtful man I'd ever encountered.  I had no idea at the time that I would fall for him.  I wasn't expecting it in the least.   In fact, at the time, he was dating a few other girls.  Even after we'd had a couple of dates he flew out to California to meet up with another lady.  But, it didn't bother me.  Why?  Because I didn't know I was falling in love.  I was totally in the "friend zone" and so I was completely okay with that.  On top of that, I knew that if I ever DID find someone to fall in love with, I was definitely NOT going to try to convince him to love me.  Looking back, when I was younger, I see that I often gave too much, too soon.  I was so eager for love that I gave my whole heart away to those who didn't give back as freely.  As hard as those times were, I learned from them.  I was determined that I would rather be alone and happy, than with someone who didn't love me the way I deserved to be loved.

Our Five Year Anniversary, December 2009

Lloyd loves me completely and unreservedly.  Though our marriage isn't perfect (is anyone's?), we are happy.  We work hard at loving each other and we are building our dreams together.  They are slow in coming to fruition, but we are partners in our efforts, for the most part (except when he forgets to take the trash out.)  I love Lloyd with my whole heart and am MOST grateful for the path that led us to each other.  I'm grateful for God's plan for me.  He knows what is right for me (and WHEN it is right for me), even though I sometimes doubt.  As the years go by, I better understand the value of patience and faith, for in retrospect, I see nothing short of miracles in my life.

Family Picture with our dog, Chance (who thinks he's a "people".)  2010

Autumn Joy

Did I ever mention how much I dearly love Autumn?  It's my favorite season.  Which, if you think about it, is kind of strange for a person who has struggled with Depression her whole life.  But, I just can't help it.  No other season SMELLS and FEELS the way Autumn does.  PLUS, Autumn is really just a segue way into the Holidays.  I've noticed that I'm happiest when I have something to look forward to.

In the past, I used to think the GETTING of or the ARRIVAL of a thing or event was IT.  But, now that I'm older (and clearly much wiser), I've realized that it's the ANTICIPATION that I enjoy most.  That's part of the reason I'm a "planner".  Don't get me wrong, I can spontane as much as, or better than the next gal.  But I like to plan things because then I get to savor the anticipation.

As a kid growing up, we didn't have much money.  In fact, it's amazing that we had Christmas gifts at all.  But, not HAVING never stopped me from DREAMING.  What Christian child hasn't spent hours in contemplation over the all-important Christmas Wish List?  Just as it was then, I relish the time spent dreaming more than the actual THING itself.

That's one of the main reasons I think I love Autumn so much.  When the leaves start to fall, and the wind turns cool, it's a signal that the Holidays (filled with parties, shopping, gifts, family time, and a general increase in human decency) are just around the corner.  Who couldn't love that?

I'm also appreciative of Autumn because for Americans,  the Thanksgiving holiday is celebrated.  As we take time to reflect on the many blessings that have been afforded us as a nation, as families, and individuals, our hearts can't help but expand.  It often appears that nowadays many tend toward building up a personal armor to avoid showing any inkling of vulnerability (convinced that being open will result in being taken advantage of, financial ruin, or lack of respect).  However, with the onset of Autumn, and the ensuing Holiday Season, people's hearts seem to soften and grow warmer.  Friendships are rekindled and family bonds are renewed.  There is nothing more important in life than this.

With that being said, I'm thankful for my family.  My dad passed away in September.  It's not that I was especially close to my dad.  I loved him.  He was my dad.  I understood him, because I am like him.  More than anything, I was happy to see him go because I understand the certain misery that comes from being stuck in a sick body.  He was sick for a long time.  The upcoming winter weather would have been even harder on him.  I'm glad he was freed from his mortal prison and no longer has to face the sickness, sadness, pain, and loneliness that often come with being elderly and alone.

With my dad's passing, our family was reunited twice within 2 months:  once in September at his passing and again in October, for his simple, yet beautiful memorial at the lake.  As a family of highly independent thinkers, in the past, we've often had disagreements.  It could be said that we argue simply for the sake of arguing.  We all enjoy a good debate.  Sometimes, however, those debates have been taken a little too far and feelings have inevitably been hurt.

As my mother and siblings gathered to discuss the business of death (because, with all the decisions to be made, it DOES feel that way sometimes), I was worried that there would be contention -- too many varying opinions.  To my wonder,  we all genuinely got along.  Everyone behaved kindly, respectfully, and even maturely in deciding the WHAT and WHEN and HOW.  While there were a few diverging thoughts, it seemed that all were on their best behavior to be accommodating; to get along as best as possible.

I've heard of families being torn apart by death.  If anything, I think my family became closer and stronger going through this together.  I have new-found respect for my siblings, even my "littlest" brother.  At 25, my baby brother amazes me with his strength of character and gentle heart.  He understands things in a way that most men never do.  He speaks few words, but when he does, they are gems.  I regard and respect him, as with many other of my siblings.  My mom continues to be a pillar of strength and admiration.

I'm thankful for a strong, opinionated, passionate, caring family.  I love when we are together.  I get to behold amazing qualities in those around me.  Though it's not ALWAYS rainbows, unicorns, and sunshine, I am filled with gratitude for their love, support, and strength of character.

It's Lovely to Have Sisters

Been so busy and it's been so long.  Wanted to check in, though.

A)  My depression has gotten WAY better since I finally got in to see a new psychiatrist (a month wait list for new patients).  I'm so thankful, as the last 2 years have been really really tough for me.  Not that everyone else doesn't have their problems, too.  We've all got some.  I'm just so grateful for some relief so I can be more like ME again.

B)  My older sister, Carla, finally moved here from Oregon!  I say, "FINALLY", because I've been working on her for literally years to try to get her to move here.  Of my 6 siblings, she was the only one that was fairly inaccessible to me.  I think she quite liked it that way, to be honest.  (Can't say as how I blamed her for moving back then when she did--crazy people in the family can make wanting to "stay close" less-appealing.)  But, now we're all older and I'm glad she's close.  I love both my sisters (1 older, Carla, and 1 younger, Casey) so much.  Even though I was the "middle child" both in the family and in between sisters, and I was a rotten, mean, bossy child, I've gotten somewhat better.  I'm glad my sisters and I are so close.  No one can make me laugh the silliest laughs like they do.  It's a special wacky kind of humor that only a certain amount of history and genetic resemblance can induce.

However, that being said, I also feel so blessed that I have so many, many wonderful girlfriends in my life.  You know that saying that goes something like, "When one door closes, another one will open"?  Life really is kind of like that.  I had a VERY rough time of it in 5th and 6th grade.  The girls in my class were so mean and catty.  If you remember being that age, or have female children who've been that age, undoubtedly you'll recall the ridiculosity (cool word I just invented) of those "friendships".  For me, as I was really smart, my "girlfriends" would always ask me for the answers to the homework they failed to complete.  I used to give it to them because I sooooo wanted to "fit in".  But somewhere around age 11 or 12, I not only began to grow boobs, but a sense of self, as well.  When I began turning them down for their requests, they HATED me.  Not only did they ignore me and make fun of me, one girl even SPAT on me walking home from school one day!  Can you believe that?!  By the time I moved on to Jr. High School (7th grade), I was determined that I would NEVER let myself be hurt by "friends" like that again.

At first, I was a little wary of making "friends" all over again.  I kind of figured all girls were like that.  But, as I focused more on being the ME I wanted to be and less on what I thought others wanted me to be, I found some really great people who liked me just as I was.  I was funny, charismatic, smart and interesting (I don't know what's happened since....but that's another story. :)  From that point forward, I became increasingly skilled at making friends.  Don't get me wrong, it wasn't just like I decided it would be so and viola, it was.  No, no, no.  As with anything worthwhile, it has taken YEARS and YEARS of practice.  Occassionally I still get "burned" by not so good people, but it hurts a lot less because I know I will always find other/better friends.  They're the ones who are missing out!

So back to the point at hand, I am so grateful for wonderful genetic sisters, as well as my "sisters" that are my close friends.  Some I've had for decades, while others have been with me for just a few short months.  All are treasured in my heart (as cheesy as that sounds).  They love me for me and that is one of the best feelings in the world, wouldn't you agree?  As the last 2 years have been a daily depression battle, I've often said prayers of gratitude to a Heavenly Father who loves me enough to bless with me with amazing, talented, caring friends who help get me through the rough patches.  Just knowing there was someone who I could go to lunch with, or share a craft with, or even exchange emails (detailing the many gorgeous items we've found on the internet that we would "buy" for each other), always gave me hope and something to look forward to.

The past few weeks have been especially full of love and friendship.  I hope the rest of the year continues to be as bright and warm as this Spring is proving to be.

Though this is probably the WRONG thing to do (inevitably I'll forget someone and hurt her feelings), I'd still like to give a shout out to some of my favorite girlfriends.  We may not talk often, or we may see each other every day.  No matter what, though, these are those that mean a lot to me at this point in my life (just as others have played important roles at different periods of my life).  I thank you all for your loving kindness, constancy  and loyalty in our relationships:

Carla--my older sister
Casey--my younger sister
Mom--my really older sister :)
Dee Dee--my BFF for life--who makes me laugh just as hard as my sisters.
Rebecca--my HS BF who builds me up better than anyone.
Alisa--who's opened up my world to the past and my future to creativity.
Nina--who understands my heart better than most because she KNOWS.
Julie--for sending that first email and being so open and honest.
Lori--my kindred spirit in all things crafty, decor, food, etc.
Jenn O.--we clicked from day one and I so love our discussions.
Kirsten--the model of perfect mothering and food storage reliance!

I'm sure I've missed a few, and if you are someone I missed--please forgive me.  I'm a crazy old bat with a poor memory!

Love to all!

p.s. Today my sister, Carla, and I did a "photo-shoot".  How fun is that?  Sisters are the few who will actually tell you when you look fat in a picture and to re-pose.  Her pictures turned out great, I think.

I Live and Love With My Whole Heart -- And It's Okay!

I had a great conversation with my husband, Lloyd, this evening.  Lloyd is one of the most loving and generous men I've ever known.  I'm so thankful to be married to him and love him deeply.  I feel like he's my greatest blessing from a Heavenly Father who loves me.  That being said, it doesn't mean that we never struggle. Face it, if you're married to a man, there WILL be struggles at times.  No sexism intended.  Well, okay, maybe just a little...  Men and women, as we all know, are just "wired" differently.  In general, men are not the "communicators" that women seem inherently born to be.

Sometimes I get frustrated with Lloyd because he keeps a lot inside.  A third of that is that he's an introvert by nature.  Another 33% of it is that he is an only child and the majority of his "conversations" in life are between the characters in the books he reads.  The remaining half is that he's just a man--a man who believes it is his sacred duty to "protect" his wife from all hardship and pain.  So, inevitably, he doesn't communicate to me the way I would like him to and that results in frustration and my feelings getting hurt at times.  Now, if you know me at all, you know I'm a sensitive soul.  It isn't necessarily the hardest thing in the world to wound me emotionally.  I own that.  (Don't, however, label me as "moody" because I view that as a negative word tactless people throw out to absolve themselves of wrongdoing rather than seeking forgiveness for their lack of sensitivity.)  However, the good thing about me is that I am a communicator.  If my feelings are injured, and I care enough about the other person to even bother, I will tell him what I'm feeling and we can talk things out.  Another good thing about me is that I'm very empathetic and I don't hold grudges very well.  Once I start talking with said person, I usually come to understand why he said X thing and my empathy kicks in until I'm no longer hurt.  I now UNDERSTAND and that's usually all it takes (although, admittedly, a sincere apology always helps speed the enlightenment and healing.)

Over the last couple of days Lloyd and I have had a few "misunderstandings".  A large part of it is probably due to my having cabin fever (couped up inside due to icy roads and poor weather conditions).  Another part is likely a result of the pressure of his job right now.  Tonight came the proverbial "straw that broke the camel's back" , but thankfully we were able to take some time to sit down and talk things out.

I'm so blessed to have a husband who cares about communication.  Lloyd was married before.  He explains that he and his former wife had very poor communication and that was part of their marital problems.  He vowed that if he ever fell in love again, before deciding to remarry, he would be sure that the object of his affection would be a good communicator.  He knew he wasn't inherently the best at communicating, but recognized the importance of it in relationships, especially marriage.  During our whirlwind courtship (we met and were married within the course of 8 months--and would've married sooner had it been possible), situations arose that were challenging.  He said he knew he loved me the first time one such situation arose and we worked through it together honestly and openly.  We're on our 7th year of marriage now and we still try to always maintain that standard in resolving conflicts or other challenges.  We're not perfect, but we try.

I intermittently follow a psychologist online, Dr. Brene Brown, PhD.  I have a couple of her books and the things she talks about really make sense to me.  The quote of the week on her blog is by C.S. Lewis and couldn't be more applicable to what I am feeling this weekend in my relationship with my husband.  It is equally valuable for me to remember in all of life's relationships.

I grew up in a family where I felt that being openly loving, vulnerable, and honest were wrong.  When I was being myself, inevitably, it caused problems.  Ergo, throughout the course of my adult life, I've tried unsuccessfully over and over to close my heart so it wouldn't get hurt. But, because of who I was born to be, I've yet to be fully able to accomplish the task.

Morgan Weistling - The Promise

Now, I'm trying to learn that for me, success is about being vulnerable--about loving fully and freely, in spite of the pain that inevitably accompanies such love.  It hurts so much at times and I cry bigger crocodile tears than anyone I know.  But, I'm trying to come to terms with the fact that this is a good thing.  It's good to be who I am.  Being "sensitive" is ok.  It's better than ok.  Being sensitive and vulnerable, in my mind anyway, means that I'm attempting to be more Christlike.  We know from The Bible that Christ was perfect in his love for others (John 15:3).  We also know from the book of Isaiah, that he has felt our pain and borne our sorrows (Isaiah 53:4).   If we are to emulate Christ and live his example, then shouldn't we, too, be willing to open our hearts, even if it means that at times we will experience pain by so doing?  I think it does.

Hand in Hand - Greg Olsen

When feelings are hurt or I feel alone or unloved, I'm going to try to remember that this is okay.  It's part of being a loving and vulnerable being--even part of trying to follow the Savior's example.  I shouldn't fear the pain that inexorably will at times accompany being a loving and vulnerable person.  Perfect love casteth out fear (1 John 4:18).  If I continue to try to live openly with my whole heart , then my fear of being hurt should diminish.  Sadness and sorrow should turn to joy.  Who wants their heart in a casket anyway?

Living Life Amid the Thorns

Ah, blessed Saturday evening!  Thankfully my sweet one and I got our errrands done early today, and decided instead of going out, we'd just hang at home.  After spending about an hour returning things to their rightful place in the studio, I decided it was time to try to "catch up" on some of my favorite blogs.  (Does anyone else feel sad when the Google Reader toolbar says "434"-- meaning there are 434 posts I haven't caught up on yet?)  So many people I want to visit, so little time! 

One of my biggest problems in blogland,  I think, is that I get so easily sidetracked.  I'll start by reading one of my favorites, and then I just have to stop and comment.  (I'm one of those who STRONGLY believes in positive encouragement and reinforcement.)  Next thing I know, I've noticed someone else's clever or insightful comment, and I have to just "take a quick peek" to see who she is.  I tiptoe lightly over to her blog, and then it happens all over again!  I HAVE to comment on what she's so courageously shared (we are sharing our hearts and souls here!)  Next thing you know.....   You get the idea.  And so, 2 hours later, I'm down to "433" and have found 3 new blogs to "Follow"! 

I came across the wonderful blog of a gal who lives right here in my own area (Dallas Fort Worth Metroplex).  Ordinarily, I'd love to share her with you, but I don't want to overstep.   She mentioned in one of her posts that she had been feeling blue lately (largely in part to an infection she'd been overcoming AND the winter gray skies.)  She also commented about a loved one accusing her of throwing a "pity party" and it just broke my heart.  As someone who struggles with depression (and Seasonal Affective Disorder), I could SO feel her pain. 

At that moment, I just had to stop and send her a personal email letting her know that I can empathize.  I've dealt with depression for many years now and a few months ago, I too, was recovering from a serious infection.  The antibiotics can really reak havoc on your emotions! 

Then, because I STILL felt like I really wanted her to KNOW that she was understood and valued ('cause, really, isn't that what we all want?), I thought, "I'll just create a quick digital collage with a quote I like for her to print and hang."  Well, if you're anything like me, "quick" is a word that is incongruous with "create".  Another 2 hours later, I finished my small 5x7 collage and attached it to my email. 

I'm not trying to "boast" or say what a good person I am or anything.  Not at all!  I hope it doesn't come across that way.  I just SO know how alone one can feel at times due to illness, tragedy, or circumstances beyond our control.  I'm so thankful for my blogging community that gives me the opportunity to connect with others who are going through tough things, too.  It allows me the opportunity to forget about my worries and focus on caring for another, if but only in a small way.

Live Collage meant to print as 5x7 or smaller.