It's been quite a wild ride, being married. There's no manual that would ever be accurate enough to school any of us on what marriage should be... It's trial and error... maturity and wisdom. You don't just come up with wisdom and maturity overnight. I've always been glad that we were married later in our lives. I was 30... he was 25... it was the right time, and I'm glad we met and fell in love when we did.
Marriage is such a roller coaster sometimes. It's great, it's ugly, it's everything in between. Some days those categories happen all at once! I don't envy the young people in this regard, because they have no idea how to be themselves, let alone how to be part of a team. I recommend being at least 28 before you're married. That way, your debts from school are under your belt, your knowledge about how to survive as an independent are under your belt (hopefully), and you're well on your way to being a positive part of society. Young people who marry out of high school or straight out of college haven't got the time in as an individual to be part of a marriage. They're still learning... still growing into who they will become.
We all grow and change throughout life. I've changed over these last 15 years... significantly. I haven't liked who I've become, but have also reveled in what I've gained wisdom and discernment in. The highs and lows always bring wisdom, no matter how high or how low. Being a part of a team brings an aspect of life I hadn't experienced before, since I'd never been part of sports in school. I can say that I've learned more about life from Ben than from any other person beside my mother... and it's been a valuable part of our life together. I think Ben gets a lot out of experiencing life with me as well. I hope so, anyway! We compliment one another. We work hard to fight for each other, in the midst of us giving up on ourselves. Me especially. Ben never gives up - he's a force. He has taught me the value of perspective... The value of perseverance... The value of always seeing yourself as valuable. Those are things I've never seen in myself. I've learned the value of hard work. Ben works very hard, and has brought himself into a new level of success recently. I'm so proud of him. He teaches me every day. I listen to him talk during his conference calls, and he has a way of massaging people to his way of thinking. He's bright, clever, creative, thoughtful, and beautiful. He represents who I've wanted to be all my life.
15 years... it's hard to wrap my head around it. I've changed so much in these years. I've gone through so much in these years. I've struggled so much in these years. I'm a different person, but Ben loves me more today than ever before. Who could ask for more? I've learned a lot in this time... how to love more carefully, not just out of my own mind. I've learned to listen more carefully, so I hear his side and take it seriously. I've also learned about who I am in Christ, and who I can be. I've been a sloth in my faith for quite a while, and sometimes all it takes is a single sermon to bring you back to the place where you want to seek out God more, and want Him in your life more. I can't say I'm a person who keeps things like this in focus - far from it; but I can say that with age comes wisdom, and I'm seeing the value of focusing on my God more and more every day.
Marriage is nothing to take for granted. God ordained it to be a serious part of our adult lives. I have always taken marriage seriously, aside from my failures in the process. Ben has always taken our life seriously, and has been a man who any other man should take lessons from. Faithful, thoughtful, loving, caring, believing... giving, generous, and everything else.
You'd be blessed to have a man like mine. I know I'm blessed! Looking forward to the next 15!
Monday, January 25, 2016
Monday, January 11, 2016
Remembering...
I think about my dad every day... it's been 25 years, but it still feels like yesterday sometimes. I wish I could have his input in my life. I often wish that even though he struggled terribly for 7 months, that somehow he was still here to talk to. It's sad that I long to talk with my dad more than I long to talk with Jesus. It's my soul to want to be who Jesus intended me to be, but the remembering creeps in like a a smoke clouding who I need to focus on.
Being older is tough for some of us... Being a different person in our lives changes our perspective and keeps us wondering about if we are who we're supposed to be. Youth is a blessed cloud over the realities of age. Youth keeps us from focusing on the mortality of life. I found that, as a 19 year old, youth was forever a distant memory. My focus was on death, and the reality of what death brings us in this futile effort we call life.
When I think on who I'm supposed to be, I don't focus on Jesus unfortunately. I should, and I'm striving to do that - every day - for many years. Focus is difficult in the mind of an emotionally disabled person. We dwell on the negative, and rarely see the positive in difficult circumstance.
If my dad was still here, I wonder if he'd be proud. I doubt it, in all honesty. If my brother was to read this, he would negate it, but the truth of the matter is, my dad would have been a force for us to follow. He was a strong man. He did what needed to be done. He was brave, honest, and hard working. He dealt with the weather as a telephone repair man, and never backed off of a difficult day. He plowed snow to get extra income for us. He worked hard. He wasn't one to pass up hard work for a desk job. He wanted to be working - in the elements or otherwise. He lived his life in a way that is foreign to us today. I love him for teaching us the value of hard work and perseverance. He will always be a strong reminder of what love and discipline means to me.
Who am I without my dad? It's hard to know. Failure to try is an issue each of us in my family has. It's due to being enabled by my mother. We continuously lean on her for help, and I'm disgusted with who my brother and I have become because of it. My nephew as well. Enabling only gets you a compromised, weak individual who cannot help themselves. Enabling is a curse, in my opinion.
My dad would have stood for hard work, honesty, loyalty, and for Christ. His life mattered... even for the few of us who had privilege to know him. When I die, I hope to fill the church with people who knew me, and who could say "I was changed by her", "I was made a better person for knowing her", and "I will carry her memory on and build on what she tried to establish."
My dad, and Jesus... they are my guides. My earthly guide, and my spiritual guide. My mother plays a very big part of who I am now, and who I strive to be. She can't be negated in this post. She is who keeps me alive. She, and her unbroken belief. Her strength, her continual fight for us. What more can anyone ask for? I live because she lives. I live in Christ because that's what I know. I can't negate Jesus in any of who I am, because He allows me the peace and comfort that no one else can bring.
Being older is tough for some of us... Being a different person in our lives changes our perspective and keeps us wondering about if we are who we're supposed to be. Youth is a blessed cloud over the realities of age. Youth keeps us from focusing on the mortality of life. I found that, as a 19 year old, youth was forever a distant memory. My focus was on death, and the reality of what death brings us in this futile effort we call life.
When I think on who I'm supposed to be, I don't focus on Jesus unfortunately. I should, and I'm striving to do that - every day - for many years. Focus is difficult in the mind of an emotionally disabled person. We dwell on the negative, and rarely see the positive in difficult circumstance.
If my dad was still here, I wonder if he'd be proud. I doubt it, in all honesty. If my brother was to read this, he would negate it, but the truth of the matter is, my dad would have been a force for us to follow. He was a strong man. He did what needed to be done. He was brave, honest, and hard working. He dealt with the weather as a telephone repair man, and never backed off of a difficult day. He plowed snow to get extra income for us. He worked hard. He wasn't one to pass up hard work for a desk job. He wanted to be working - in the elements or otherwise. He lived his life in a way that is foreign to us today. I love him for teaching us the value of hard work and perseverance. He will always be a strong reminder of what love and discipline means to me.
Who am I without my dad? It's hard to know. Failure to try is an issue each of us in my family has. It's due to being enabled by my mother. We continuously lean on her for help, and I'm disgusted with who my brother and I have become because of it. My nephew as well. Enabling only gets you a compromised, weak individual who cannot help themselves. Enabling is a curse, in my opinion.
My dad would have stood for hard work, honesty, loyalty, and for Christ. His life mattered... even for the few of us who had privilege to know him. When I die, I hope to fill the church with people who knew me, and who could say "I was changed by her", "I was made a better person for knowing her", and "I will carry her memory on and build on what she tried to establish."
My dad, and Jesus... they are my guides. My earthly guide, and my spiritual guide. My mother plays a very big part of who I am now, and who I strive to be. She can't be negated in this post. She is who keeps me alive. She, and her unbroken belief. Her strength, her continual fight for us. What more can anyone ask for? I live because she lives. I live in Christ because that's what I know. I can't negate Jesus in any of who I am, because He allows me the peace and comfort that no one else can bring.
Wednesday, January 6, 2016
Changing "My Normal"...
What IS "normal?" It seems to me that everyone has their own interpretation of the word, and those interpretations are widely varied and personal. Normal is relative, to say the least.
When you're a person who deals with needing to be medicated in order to survive, normal is something you constantly long for. It's a reality that often we don't succeed at. Normal for me lately has become what I "used to feel" and has eluded me for months. Medicine is a powerful tool in our lives, and I don't take it lightly. My need for medical help in the realm of feeling normal is a constant, and is always in flux as of today. My therapist thought ADHD medications might help me, but ended up throwing me into an entirely different state of being. One, by the way, which ended up being completely wrong for me. Struggling with medicines and their side effects is exhausting... I'm sure for my therapist as well.
Normal. Feeling like everyone else. Feeling as though I can "blend in" or feel a way that would keep me from feeling like an outsider. I've tried... for decades. I can put on a front like the best of them. I can act normal... but like I said, it's exhausting. I end up needing "down time" from being with people. Even close family and friends takes its toll. My being is one of solitude a lot of the time. Me and my God. It should be enough for me, being so close to Jesus and feeling as though I'm loved, chosen, forgiven, worthy, and made for greater things should be enough. It isn't. I'm a broken Christian. I love, but cannot show it the way others can. I trust minimally... I share online because I can sit here and be "anonymous" in my words that go out to people, because it's safe. Social media has allowed we as emotionally challenged people to speak out where we wouldn't otherwise.
Why do I feel abnormal? I dwell on the sadness. I anticipate the sadness. I focus on the sadness. All. The. Time. Finding joy is a precious thing... one that I often cannot succeed in. People don't understand... but I have many who are with me, and now the reality of being a depressed and anxious person. It is a job, truth be told... and a heavy burden to bear. My normal today is shredded... I am sad and anxious, but just one week ago I was in the "most magical place on earth." Why can I not hold on to magical, and just let is sift through my fingers like sand? It's as if I put my hand into the ocean, and grasped the water, only to find that my hand is once again empty. Normal is an effort in futility for me.
Right now I'm focused on the fact that my senior citizen cat of 16 is sick and needs to see the vet tomorrow. I just put my oldest cat in the ground a week ago tomorrow. I can't do it again... but that's what I see... the negative. His heart failure and respiratory infection is causing him to not eat, and to hide away all day. I don't know what to do and I'm struggling to think positively. My vet gave me a veiled yet serious moment today... stating that she has no more animals in her care that were born in 1999 (which my Opie was), and that she doesn't have many 2000 birth pets in her care. That to me was a warning... Fecus is very sick, and his recovery is a gray area that may not bring the outcome I seek for him.
That, and I have been weening off of the drug Cymbalta for a few weeks now, in order to get onto a newer, possibly better medication for depression. Cymbalta is highly understood as a very difficult drug to ween off of, and may take months to get past. I've reduced my dosage to 1/3 of what it was, and I'm feeling the severity of the effects that that takes. It's tough to get through the holidays, and the death of a beloved pet, and now have to face the reality of a very ill pet who may not get better from here. I have many friends who avoid pets in order to avoid the pain of losing them. It's a harsh reality, but I made the commitment, and I will see it through to its end.
Normal isn't normal... it's what you perceive it to be. Being a happy go lucky, pollyanna type is great, and I wish I was at times. Being a realist is what I've become. Being a "glass half empty" is what I'm trying to change. I want to be happy... to find joy in life. This time of year is a tough one to endure for people like me. Please pray for us as we endure. The fight is real. Fighting to live is a reality, and it's a tough one to do day in and day out. I've nearly lost that fight more times than I care to count. But I'm here... and I'm telling you: be aware of your friends and family members. Be there. It's valid. It counts. It's important. Normal is only what you have in your head... not what everyone else has in theirs.
When you're a person who deals with needing to be medicated in order to survive, normal is something you constantly long for. It's a reality that often we don't succeed at. Normal for me lately has become what I "used to feel" and has eluded me for months. Medicine is a powerful tool in our lives, and I don't take it lightly. My need for medical help in the realm of feeling normal is a constant, and is always in flux as of today. My therapist thought ADHD medications might help me, but ended up throwing me into an entirely different state of being. One, by the way, which ended up being completely wrong for me. Struggling with medicines and their side effects is exhausting... I'm sure for my therapist as well.
Normal. Feeling like everyone else. Feeling as though I can "blend in" or feel a way that would keep me from feeling like an outsider. I've tried... for decades. I can put on a front like the best of them. I can act normal... but like I said, it's exhausting. I end up needing "down time" from being with people. Even close family and friends takes its toll. My being is one of solitude a lot of the time. Me and my God. It should be enough for me, being so close to Jesus and feeling as though I'm loved, chosen, forgiven, worthy, and made for greater things should be enough. It isn't. I'm a broken Christian. I love, but cannot show it the way others can. I trust minimally... I share online because I can sit here and be "anonymous" in my words that go out to people, because it's safe. Social media has allowed we as emotionally challenged people to speak out where we wouldn't otherwise.
Why do I feel abnormal? I dwell on the sadness. I anticipate the sadness. I focus on the sadness. All. The. Time. Finding joy is a precious thing... one that I often cannot succeed in. People don't understand... but I have many who are with me, and now the reality of being a depressed and anxious person. It is a job, truth be told... and a heavy burden to bear. My normal today is shredded... I am sad and anxious, but just one week ago I was in the "most magical place on earth." Why can I not hold on to magical, and just let is sift through my fingers like sand? It's as if I put my hand into the ocean, and grasped the water, only to find that my hand is once again empty. Normal is an effort in futility for me.
Right now I'm focused on the fact that my senior citizen cat of 16 is sick and needs to see the vet tomorrow. I just put my oldest cat in the ground a week ago tomorrow. I can't do it again... but that's what I see... the negative. His heart failure and respiratory infection is causing him to not eat, and to hide away all day. I don't know what to do and I'm struggling to think positively. My vet gave me a veiled yet serious moment today... stating that she has no more animals in her care that were born in 1999 (which my Opie was), and that she doesn't have many 2000 birth pets in her care. That to me was a warning... Fecus is very sick, and his recovery is a gray area that may not bring the outcome I seek for him.
That, and I have been weening off of the drug Cymbalta for a few weeks now, in order to get onto a newer, possibly better medication for depression. Cymbalta is highly understood as a very difficult drug to ween off of, and may take months to get past. I've reduced my dosage to 1/3 of what it was, and I'm feeling the severity of the effects that that takes. It's tough to get through the holidays, and the death of a beloved pet, and now have to face the reality of a very ill pet who may not get better from here. I have many friends who avoid pets in order to avoid the pain of losing them. It's a harsh reality, but I made the commitment, and I will see it through to its end.
Normal isn't normal... it's what you perceive it to be. Being a happy go lucky, pollyanna type is great, and I wish I was at times. Being a realist is what I've become. Being a "glass half empty" is what I'm trying to change. I want to be happy... to find joy in life. This time of year is a tough one to endure for people like me. Please pray for us as we endure. The fight is real. Fighting to live is a reality, and it's a tough one to do day in and day out. I've nearly lost that fight more times than I care to count. But I'm here... and I'm telling you: be aware of your friends and family members. Be there. It's valid. It counts. It's important. Normal is only what you have in your head... not what everyone else has in theirs.
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