Don’t forget to dot the eyes

I remember many year ago, for most of my youth and into my 20’s, feeling a certain kind of apprehension and fear when anyone would look at me.

I suppose it came from the belief that any time ANYONE looked at me, they saw all of the shame-filled hurts that I tried so desperately to hide.

Of course I knew that people could see these things; from an angry and abusive Dad, to being bullied by my peers throughout school, how could I expect any other kind of treatment when the world COULD SEE how much I deserved it.

So, now, as I am often in the company of young adults who have come from (far worse than my own experience) abusive and traumatic homes, I find the memories coming back to me.

How I loathed the eyes. I longed for the world’s eyes to be covered when they turned toward me. I imagined people wearing blinders, at the least. That would provide some comfort, until their gaze was fully upon me. But there was never any real way of escaping the looks from those I encountered.

I pretended not to hear the searing words said about me. Words beginning before I was even old enough to leave my family, and attend school. At first school was a great change for me, as I learned the joys of escaping into books and music and art…

But once I became visible, or noticeable in some way, I became the target of other children’s derision and aggression.

So I kept my head down and did what I could to blend in to the background…

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These days I’m not so concerned about how most people perceive me, and I am so, so very grateful for that. I encounter other people’s children who tell me that they have seen things that no child should see. They have heard and been victims of things no human ought.

So I make sure that I take the blinders off when I look at them. That way they can see the child in me, returning their gaze, through the older eyes of an adult who genuinely cares about them. I do whatever I am able, w/in my limited capabilities, to leave them better than I find them.

I need to remember to pray for them.

Won’t you help me pray for the children, and the hurting adults they grew up to become?

Monday Musings

Four Lessons on Life

1. Never take down a fence until you know why it was put up.

2. If you get too far ahead of the army, your soldiers may mistake you for the enemy.

3. Don’t complain about the bottom rungs of the ladder they helped to get you higher.

4. If you want to enjoy the rainbow, be prepared to endure the storm.

(-Warren Wiersbe)

Got some Monday nuggets of wisdom to share? Please set them down right in the comments!

Are you hungry?

I find myself ever increasing, in being aware of an emptiness in my soul. My spirit has been touched by God, of course. I am a Christ-follower.

But, still, there is such a longing for more. More of Him. More of His Spirit. MORE. The Word says that we can have as much of the Holy Spirit as we WANT.

How much do you want?

This world has beauty, and it has joyous celebrations, and peaceful moments. The Bible talks about how we think we are healthy and happy, and have all that we need. In fact, we, without Jesus, are quite the opposite. We are lower than the beggars on the street, that we try not to see.

But…I know that there is more. I have personally experienced it. Then, I was led away, back to the familiar. Sure, it was my choice, but I went.

If you are a seeker of Truth, if this world does not fulfill the deepest desires of your heart…you know, when you’re lying in bed and you wonder “is this all there is?”, then I hope you will listen to this.

Ask Him to speak to your heart, a little louder. And then respond when you hear Him.

I plan to.

Keep them alive long enough to get HELP

So, if I showed signs of having broken my leg, would you, as a religious person, tell me to pray about it, and then go on about your life? No.

If your child was diagnosed with diabetes or cancer, would you tell them to read their Bible, and that’s it? No.

Why do otherwise intelligent people insist that mental illness has to be prayed away? “If you’re depressed, read your Bible more.”

Reading scriptures and praying may not be hurtful, but I think the reasons for not going to a Dr. or therapist have much more to do with fear of what “people” would think, along with hoping that it will just go away…but it doesn’t work that way.

The last time I checked, the same people who would REFUSE to get help for a depressed child don’t think twice about taking medicine when THEY are feeling poorly.

So, here’s my point:

Familiarise yourself with symptoms of depression.

It’s NOT normal for a (child, preteen, teenager)person to stay awake all night, every night. Or to sleep 12+ hours, regularly, for no apparent reason. Or to have noticeable weight fluctuations. Or frequent tearfulness.

Often sadness is hidden behind anger. Surliness, irritability, sarcasm, isolation, fighting…

These things alone, are not necessarily a cause for alarm. If you notice several of them, on a regular basis, you should take notice.

Talk to the person. LISTEN. Then don’t stop looking for a solution until you’ve found one that is agreeable to that person.

If it takes therapy, medication, dietary adjustments, or whatever, do it.
DO SOMETHING.
People struggling with depression (or any other mental illness for that matter) DON’T just snap out of it. They will not grow out of it.

What happens if you don’t find something to reduce the depression? Do you want to know? Really?

The person will find a way of relief.

*Self-harm (this can end in accidental suicide)

*Drugs or alcohol (may also end in death)

*Impulsive/high-risk sexual activity (same)

*ALL of the above, and worse (death)

From my own experience as a person in recovery, and a formerly depressed person, I have a good amount of insight. And, I have no reason to lie to you.

If your kid is floundering, no matter what age, do them a solid and get them help.

In case you weren’t aware, they are killing themselves out there.

Depression sucks.

It really does. It sucks the life out of you, in every way, if not treated. Here is a basic description of depression along with symptoms I found online: The persistent feeling of sadness or loss of interest that characterizes major depression can lead to a range of emotional and physical conditions. These include inability to sleep or concentrate on tasks.

To expound on this definition, the above is as far as I got in writing this post. I’m not feeling bad now, but I long to be off the meds. I think I have less than a complete range of emotions now. (Eeyore sigh)

It’s beautiful out so I’m gonna focus on the good. 😁

UPDATE:

About a year after writing this, I was introduced to a natural supplement that allowed me to GET. OFF. THE. MEDS.

Drop me a line if you’d like to get back to feeling. REALLY feeling again. Or go here and see what I’m talking about.

7 (or so) things I will only cautiously write about

I’ve been wanting to climb up into my writing perch for such a long time, but there don’t seem to be many things that I can write about, just now, or that I’m sure HOW to address here. 

I’m not feeling certain about describing my work situation, save to say that I am eager to arrive and not in a hurry to leave. It feels like I’m supposed to be there. I get to work alongside of some genuine individuals who feel the same about their jobs as I do mine. 

My boys are each developing into their own characters. I’m too far from one to have any real contribution, and the other…he just turned 17, and is having more than the usual struggles of that age. 

My cats seem to be developing a resistance to the flea stuff I put on their necks. The most disturbing thing about that is that I’m itching all over but can’t see any reason for it. Thinking about putting a couple of the tubes of medicine on the back of my neck. 

My extended family(s) (including non-blood relatives) have issues coming and going: various ailments and conditions, both mental and physical. Mostly age-related, but some not. As with my older son, I’m too far away from the other relations to be in a position to be of any assistance. 
When we first moved to the Eastern side of the country, I had thought that finding a job wouldn’t be too hard. Yet, here I am, just over 2 whole years later, and just 90 days into this position. And I really REALLY like my job. It’s more than a job: it’s really who I am. 

Thank God my husband’s job is pretty good, and he’s remarkably skilled at what he does. I’m proud of his willingness to do what he must, to care for us. 

God has been patient as ever with me. I told someone earlier tonight that it seems like I’ve been in the LONGEST transitional period ever. As the wise man said “His grace is enough for me.”

Actually, the only occasionally irritating part of my life (phantom-flea bites not included) at the moment has to be some of the ways the Stigma rears it’s ugly head among some of my co-workers. That’s it! I can’t think of when I was so content – like 85%, I’d say- with my day-to-day. 

In the morning I’m gonna go check out a church down the road. Word has it that the preacher is an ex-alkie. I like the sounds of that.

Thank you for coming by. I hope to have something more to say soon, but no promises. 

Gentle readers, you’re the sh*t. 😊

Int’l Overdose Awareness Day

As someone who has attended too many funerals due to overdose, I am asking you to share this image. How many people do YOU know that would give anything to hold their parent or child just One. More. Time? 

As long as we continue to share our stories and educate our world as to the truth about drug addiction, there will be hope. 

If you are one who’s had a loved one taken by addiction, please don’t stop speaking out. The less condemnation an addict feels from those who could instead be helping them to learn how to live again…the more likely that addict is going to be to actually ask for help. 

Outside of recovery – which is available as long as there is life – addicts only have three choices for their tomorrows: 

Jails

Institutions

Death.

Contempt and disgust haven’t worked to spare any addicts life, so let’s try love and compassionate action. What can it hurt?