Queen for a day

Woohoo!! I celebrated my 50th birthday this week! I was a queen for the day! Some women say they are 29 again. Not me. I have celebrated every year I've lived past 37. I wrote the reason for this in a previous post. You can read it here. I haven't always felt so "queen-like" though.

The battle I fight everyday is real. Twenty years ago I had reached a point where the suffering was so great that I felt it would be a relief to die. Anxiety, depression, and bipolar 2. Skip to the last few years and add meniere's, bruxism, sleep apnea, fibromyalgia, dry eyes, arthritis...you get the idea. Geez! Let's not dwell on such things. I tell you these things, not because I want pity (absolutely not!), but because you never know what someone is struggling with. There are many people out there facing much worse and it helps me to put things into perspective. To see and hear of people overcoming adversities gives me hope. They encourage me.

I had a choice to make. I chose life. To have courage. To fight. To be fucking brave.

There is something wonderful happening this year. It hasn't been instantaneous, but a continuous forward moving work in progress. I have persevered through many trials, and asked God to give me the same faith during the bad times that I have in the good times.

I have always felt called to be a full-time artist, but fear(s) left me unable to live into that dream the way I felt I could. The stress of living outside of how I am wired was giving me such anxiety that I thought I was having a heart attack a couple of times. I quit my job that I was afraid to leave because of missing certain aspects and financial concerns. It was a good job, mind you. Just not one God had
in mind for me anymore. For the first time ever, I feel like I can actually do this artist thing. I am not afraid (too much). My mood is (relatively) stable. I have energy and focus (my kids are older). I am motivated and the most important, I believe in myself. I am having more and more victories!

I know God has good plans for me, and I am ready to walk in those steps. God saved this queen!

Using four letter words as a stress reliever (Rated R for language)

Kids. A blessing. The hardest job you'll ever love. Remember my post about surrender? If not, you can read it here. If you are going to survive their growing up, and keep your sanity, this surrendering is not optional .I'm really having to practice this on a daily basis. 

My husband and I are doing the best we can. Kids do not come with a how-to-manual. Even if they did, it would not be a one size fits all. There is a lot of debate about nurture vs. nature. You can provide a safe, nurturing environment. You can be a nuclear family, but the way they are wired is the way they are wired. I believe if someone wants to change their behavior, using cognitive behavioral therapy, you can. It's not a magic wand and will take alifetime commitment. I do know what I'm talking about.

What do you do if someone does not want to acknowledge unhealthy thinking and/or actions. This is where the surrendering comes in handy. Also, a good support system. Parents should not feel isolated when things are tough. I'm thankful for my husband, circle of friends, and my therapist. 

Don't leave your children alone, even if they slam doors in your face and yell "leave me alone!" They don't really mean it, no matter what they say. It's really easy for me to become overwhelmed with how to best love my kids. Being consistent and providing a safe haven from their storms is probably the best you can do. 

There is no such thing as a perfect parent, because there is no such thing as a perfect child.

Pray for me. I'm praying for you.

Happy Mother's Day

Thirty-seven Mother's Days have passed since you've been gone. It's been a challenge growing up and having my children without you. And sad. You would of been 75 on March 14, 2015.

I tried to raise my kids and give them traditions based on what I could remember from growing up in the short 12 years we had before you were gone. I tried so hard, that it became an obsession. I didn't know any better. I didn't know how to be myself as a mom. This eventually made me very resentful, then guilty because I just couldn't keep up. I thought I was a bad mom if I didn't throw the best themed birthday parties and make the cake to match. And Christmas? That was exhausting, but that's all I knew.

After many years of therapy, I've realized that my image of you did not need to define who I was. Without a frame of reference or anyone to affirm me in my decisions, it was a hard lesson to learn. Who would you be to me, or I to your memory if I didn't do things like you did?

Today I can know how much of you is in me that I can attribute to how I'm wired. Some not so good. It's most likely we shared the same mental illness. Not your fault, it's just how we were made. Some very, very good. I received the gift of being creative. You gave me almost every art tool available. An easel, drawing paper, pencils, pastels, paints to name a few. You taught me how to sew on your machine.You made my clothes, painted, and played the piano. The piano is one of my favorite instruments, and although I never followed through with my lessons, my appreciation of the sounds soothes my soul. You encouraged my imagination. One of my favorite memories is a bag of old curtains that became capes, dresses, veils, even imaginary walls. And the plays we put on! I always had barbies and baby dolls and every accessory that came with them; clothes, strollers, houses, cars, you name it. We drew on the sidewalk with chalk. You always made fresh brewed iced tea, and we loved us some cold corn on the cob! Even though I hated it, you taught me how to wash dishes, clean and vacuum. You bought me endless books to read, which I did with fervor. You bought me a tape recorder so I could record myself singing. You gave me a hamster, a cat, and a dog. You kept a baby book that is so full of recorded milestones. You gave me a nurses carevgiving heart. I have an intuitive sense when it comes to caring for others.

I am who I am in part because of who you where. I wish I had more memories. I wish I could remember how it felt when you hugged me. There was a time when this caused me great pain and I felt so alone. God provided me with great in-laws that have filled the gap and it has been such a blessing.

I'm not so sad and lonely anymore, because the little girl inside of me has grown up, I am a confident woman and mother. I know that is what you would of wanted for me.

Happy Mother's Day, Mommy

Persisting

I have continued to be able to persist. This is really, really great! It really is, because I don't have a very good track record. Since I resigned from my job I have had a tremendous relief from stress. It was a good job, don't get me wrong. It was just one that had me operating out of the way I am wired. I had this job for 3 years. The longest time of employment since I left my first job of almost 17 years.

It might not seem like a big deal, and actually you might be calling me an under achiever (or lazy, or lucky...but it doesn't really matter,  'cause what you think of me is none of my business.) The fact is my mental health hell began during my last pregnancy in 1999. What started out as a decision to be a stay at home mom, became a struggle to be well. It has been a greater struggle at times than others, and the past 12 months have been the longest time of struggling in quite awhile.

I have the opportunity to concentrate on my art full time (again), but this time without small children. I am a professional persevere-er (look out Dr. Suess.) My power has increased and I am actually living the dream. I am selling more of my art now than I have ever. It helps that I am creating my own art consistently for the first time! I am so full of stored up ideas, and I don't think I'll ever run out. I have received confirmation over and over that I am doing the right thing. I am trusting God will continue to provide for our needs. I am actually OK setting aside my wants.

I am persisting every day. One step at a time.