Who would have thought I’d be sitting here, staring at a screen trying to figure out what to even say…
I probably just need to ramble on a bit so I can get some of these swirling thoughts to align themselves into something productive. Ha!
This has been a very busy year for my family.
A year of many changes, and many firsts.
The first house I bought, on my own!
I also bought my first truck on my own!
One of my children has joined the military and is currently in basic training.
My daughter was in a Miss Metropolis pageant last November, and she is going again this year, because her crown was broken and she NEEDS a new one (so she says).
I’ve taken a new liking to Football. That began last year when Levi was a senior and in the band. We went to all the home games, and it was FUN! I actually got out and mingled with people! I had forgotten how that felt.
Then, I started watching pro football.
And… I met someone.
And after a while, he gave me a ring.
And while I have gone on and on about all these other things, this man is the best change I have experienced in this past year!
Many years ago, my godmother Debbie had me write a list. This list would include all the things I wanted in a man. She put it in her Bible and prayed for my “husband” every day until the day she died.
One thing on that list, the very first thing actually, was that he would “love me like Jesus.”
Now, my 16-year-old-self had no clue what depth of a man I was generating with my list. I went on to write looks, height, gifts and talents, but the top remained the same. It was what meant the most to me.
Who would have thought that would be EXACTLY what I needed almost thirty years later!
Let’s think about it for a second, though.
How does Jesus love us?
He loves us in ways that we cannot fully comprehend.
He carries us when we fall. He forgives us EVERY time we fail Him.
He gives us choices, options, suggestions, ideas, inspiration, and more options and choices. And He lets us make our choices.
If those choices align with His guidance, awesome!
If we falter or fail, make mistakes, or even screw something up on purpose, He simply waits for us to put our head back on straight and picks right back up with us again. His forgiveness is eternal.
He walked on this earth and endured many hardships, for us. He took beatings for us. He DIED for us. He went to Hell and back for us!
No matter what we have done, where we have gone, how hard we have fallen, His Grace is unending, and His Mercy and Healing always present.
This man, this amazing man who has entered my world has carefully peeled back the layers and layers of shields and walls I spent decades building around my heart, my mind, and my person.
He walked with me deep into old wounds, where the exposure had been excruciating, but for months I did not see that healing was also taking place. I was too busy in my own head, struggling with my defenses and holding back.
In the process, trying to keep my walls intact, I also missed that I was also hurting him.
And every time, he would remind me that he is not going anywhere.
Who would have thought…
Almost two years ago I started a new journal. In that journal I decided to begin it with writing several things that I liked about myself.
However, over the course of this past year, specifically March to now, I couldn’t conjure a single thing that I liked about myself.
I unknowingly succumbed to the monster that is depression that tried to suck me under a decade ago. Its claws were deep in each revealed scar from my past, holding them open despite the loving touch of the man who’s only sin against me was wanting to love EVERY part of me. The good. The bad. The hidden.
And for the first time in my life, in any relationship, in any part of my existence, the hidden parts are seen, and I am not judged. I am loved. All of me.
My walls were telling me that I was being exposed, hurt, humiliated, and broken.
What was actually happening was a process of healing. You can’t heal what you don’t know is there. With each wound, each scar, each hurt revealed, as far back as my teen years, I have begun to change.
Steady loving hands have held me when I cried, steadied me when I faltered, and supported me when the realization hit me that weights are lifted.
And then, who but the man himself that God dropped in my space would have the absolute nerve to remind me that God is the healer of our pains.
He read scriptures. Talks about “God first”. Prays over me and for me.
Nobody said love is easy, painless, or always pretty.
And nobody would ever say that loving someone like Jesus loves us is even just a little hard.
And yet, such a love has found me, embraced me, and given me more than I knew I ever needed.
To the teenager who wrote her little list that was tucked into a Bible and prayed over for many years, I would say Thank You. Because God inspired a girl who would never understand His love in its entirety for at least 25 years to ask for it to come in the form of a man.
Who would have known, and none of us never do until it hits, that Mercy and Love are always there. It never went anywhere. And no matter how far you think you may have walked away from it, no matter how far you think you may have fallen from it, that love is PRESENT. Because God is always present, and with His presence is that love. The unexplainable, unimaginable love that I hope each of you get to experience and share.
These past couple of weeks I have immersed myself in an outrageous number of fictional novels, TV shows, and movies.
Why?
I’m so glad you asked!
Let’s go back a couple decades (I can’t believe I just said that…).
From my pre-teen to late-teen years I was an avid reader. I would grab a book, any book, and just sit and read until I reached the last page. Or, until my parents made me get up and do productive things instead.
I carried a large purse or backpack around all the time. Not because I was girly by any means, but because my books and my journals were ALWAYS with me.
Alongside my love of reading, I enjoyed putting my pen to paper as often as I could. Anytime someone needed a piece of paper or a pen, they knew to go to me. I was never without.
So let’s move up to the current year. I am the same. Unchanged. I read A LOT. I write A LOT.
Reading, for me, has always been enjoyable, entertaining, enlightening, and inspiring.
Writing, however, has always been a release. It’s motivating, self-encouraging, and a way to get all the things out of my head. All the things that race back and forth, ramming into the walls of my peace, chipping away at the structure within.
Not all thoughts are bad. Too many thoughts at once, however, can be overwhelming. And I am the textbook example of a “woman’s brain.” You know, the one they describe as an internet browser with too many tabs open?
Allow me to see that description level and raise it…
My mind is like a whole computer. Browsers are open, windows, tabs, etc. Apps are playing in the foreground and background simultaneously. The security app is constantly reminding me to check the kids and things around the house. The entertainment app is blaring with at least 3 genres of music at once, and anytime the mood changes EVERY channel changes with it! Browsers open for work and school, multiple windows and tabs for each one.
The antivirus hasn’t been run or upgraded in YEARS, and is flashing in the bottom, right corner every 3 hours or so. Its many attempts have been in vain so far. “Just click the ‘x’ in the corner to close the window till another day.”
Kind of like ignoring the check engine light on your car…
The calendar/appointment app self-destructs every few weeks or so… the poor thing.
Now, I could go on and on about how my overly anxious mind works (or doesn’t work), and likely make you dizzy with it all. I’ve chased one rabbit trail writing this post already, but I’m not editing it out. Haha!
We’ve covered reading and writing.
TV shows and movies:
Sometimes I turn them on to have background noise. That noise can often cancel out some of the scattered things swirling around in my mind when I need to concentrate on work, school, or something else.
And sometimes, I find shows and movies that are based on books.
And y’all… based on books? Not just a novel or non-fiction work, but a series of books?!
Sign. Me. Up.
I recall many of those, “How many have you watched?” lists on Facebook, marking lists of movies or TV shows, and you put a little symbol next to the ones you have seen. I would FILL those lists with symbols, every time.
I don’t really have a favorite genre of reading or writing, honestly. I glean a lot of knowledge and inspiration from non-fiction works, self-help, influential works, and more. But lately, I have leaned toward the fiction world again, much like I did as a teenager.
I can get lost in the descriptions of fictional worlds. The landscapes described with words these authors are gifted with using, that bring a scene to life inside the mind. Dialogue that can take you down emotional twists and turns, from laughing to gasping, and even crying, because you “Feel” every bit of the conversation. Describing emotions. My gosh…
As a teenager, I dreamed of becoming a published author. I wanted to open a world on paper that I brought to life with my words. Characters, conversation, the ups and downs of the hero and heroine of the story.
I wrote in my journals and notebooks for years. Visions of a story, outlines of possible books, and even a couple of drafted chapters here and there. Those notebooks and journals have traveled with me throughout my life and all the places I have moved since leaving the home where I was raised. Some have been lost, taken, ripped apart, and otherwise damaged. Not by me, but it happened none the less.
So, the other day I was pulling notebooks off the shelf for my kiddos to have something to draw on while I worked. One such notebook containing written works of two decades ago, fell out, open, on the floor at my feet.
I bent down, picked it up, and before standing straight again I paused.
The page that was open on the notebook in my hands was a list of descriptions. I had been practicing some creative writing skills with a dear friend of mine, and we would text back and forth a description of what we were looking at.
This one, however, ended up being a journaling for myself, and I couldn’t look away from the lines as the memories sucked all the air out of my core for just a moment.
“The reflection of the trees along the shore did a slow dance in the smoky glass of the water’s surface. The river is calm today. Tiny ripples hide well the dangerous current that races underneath. She’s moving fast today. A stick being carried by the current is here one second and gone the next. Underneath she is raging, but her surface gives no hint with the calm, smooth surface unbroken by waves or wind. I feel her today. I understand. I will leave for college away from home soon and I’m uncertain. The current inside me is strong, but it’s more like a churning rather than a flow. I am torn. I wanted to be a nurse. I wanted to live here and travel around the world. Did I settle? I don’t know. I also love music. And this school is going to give me music. It’s a school built for social people. Preachers, singers, teachers, evangelists… I’m not social. I’m terrified. Can I put on a face calm as the river and take this next step in my life? I don’t know. But I do know that wherever I go, any time I come home, the river will be here to greet me.”
So…
I carried that notebook to my room, sat on my bed, and turned several pages. I read short stories, poems, songs, more descriptive writing, journaling, reflections. Whew! It hit me hard.
So, what did I do? Ha! I went straight to my Kindle app, found books and started reading, went to Audible and started listening to books being read. Found Movies and TV shows based on books and watched/listened to them.
And here I have been for over a week, doing the same thing.
Remembering the creative thoughts I used to kindle into at least a little flame. Feeling the emotions connected to memories, dreams, visions, ideas, and goals I had set for myself.
Only now did I decide to open my computer and put to words what has been going on inside me these past many days.
Do I still dream of being a published author? YES!
Do I still want to write poems, music, songs, stories, and eventually books? YES!
Is this dream a possibility? YES!
Can I calm my mind enough to focus and budget my time wisely to achieve my dreams? This is where I struggle, and the rabbit trail we all took together at the beginning of this post happened. I want to. I really, REALLY do. But that computer mind of mine is on the verge of fritzing out.
Hopefully I will find the thing that sets me straight, very soon. I have a lot coming up in the very near future that will require a bit more of me than I have gathered in one compartment right now.
Until then, you will continue to get the random ramblings of a writer who loves to write. My blog posts aren’t consistently posted weekly or even monthly many times, but we will get there!
PS: if you have any book recommendations… well, you know what to do. 😊
And here we arrive at the final chapter of the great health scare of 2024.
Well, the first one anyway…
We are going to highlight Friday and Sunday in this post, as they were the days of fun and adventure… and the rest were filler days. LOL
The ambulance arrived at the hospital I would be admitted into. The doors opened and a burst of WARM air hit me.
Y’all. You know me! It was February… and it was warm! I was not happy at all. I looked up at the paramedic and mentioned the temperature. It wasn’t fair! It’s warm outside and I’m stuck to a gurney going into a hospital for God knows how long!
“Yeah. It’s supposed to be nice for a few days! Then, cold again.” She said as they wheeled my gurney from the truck to the doors of the ER.
I was too miserable to be upset for long, though. I had been bleeding for weeks, I was barely alert, and I had several feet of gauze shoved up where things don’t need to be shoved to slow the flow of blood.
To shorten the ER part of this tale, I will say that the Dr’s came in, OBGYN department knew I was coming and they knew I was “packed” and they were furious. The first thing they did after drawing yet more blood from my person was get that hot mess out of my body.
And when they did…
Red Niagara! For minutes! And then, Red Lake Michigan (or whatever large body of water) …
Everyone in there was like, “Oh my… whoa. Ok… more blood for you!”
It was then explained to me that my bleeding was internal… and it needed a place to go. So, if the “exit” from my body was closed off, it would start finding other places inside to retreat to. Not good, apparently.
Thankfully, Mom made it there to sit with me during my torture and torment shortly after I arrived in the ambulance. She got all the kiddos ready and off to their respective school destinations before following me up to the hospital.
By now, it’s mid-morning on Friday. I’m exhausted. Depleted. Have nothing left to give, at all. In more ways than one! They got me all set up and sent up to surgery floor for my stay while they decided exactly what was going to be done about my “unique situation” as they called it so many times.
Finally in my room on the 4th floor, I get to meet my nurses for the first time. A time of enormous discomfort for myself, and lots of sympathy for them from me as well.
I was soaked, not functional, unable to even sit up on my own at this point. I tried… gosh I tried! They had to clean me up as soon as I arrived, change my bed, my clothes, put an adult diaper thingy on me because the hemorrhaging was NOT letting up at all, and try to do it ALL while I’m laying in this bed!
Y’all. These nurses got skills!
After the magic they performed getting me and my bed changed out while I was still in it, they were able to reach out to my OBGYN to see if they were going to take out the baby growing system that day. I hadn’t eaten or drank anything in 24 hours. Mama was living off whatever was going into my body via IV tubes.
While we waited for word from the Docs, I got set up with more blood, iron infusions, and some other concoction via IV bags to give me some sort of nutrients.
I also got to meet lots of nurses, techs, lab personnel, some student doctors, and other people who apparently couldn’t wait to see the “unique situation” that was in room 409.
Fast forward to that afternoon. The doctor came in and explained how he determined best to handle my situation.
“Between a rock and a hard place” was used to describe me multiple times by all the people I encountered.
My Dr referred to me as “Interesting”, “unique”, “complicated”, and other things as well.
So, let’s review my situation:
I have blood clots in my lungs. I am bleeding. A lot! The bleeding needs to stop. But the concern is the clots… which is as bad (and could be worse). Both needs treated/fixed. But, given that one is total opposite of the other… only one can be treated/fixed at a time.
It was determined that I would be having an ablation procedure to try to slow/stop the bleeding. I would have to be taken off my blood thinners for 2 days prior to the surgery, if possible, but if the bleeding got worse 1 day would do if absolutely necessary.
Every decision maker in my medical case determined that a hysterectomy would make my already difficult situation worse and wanted to do the least alteration possible to my body, get me back on the blood thinners, and on the road to recovery ASAP.
With the plan in place, it was determined that I could finally EAT!
Y’all… I ate whatever they could bring me! Sandwiches, chips, yogurts, crackers, all of it! I munched on those wonderful ice chips that hospitals have for hours in complete bliss!
That evening, a dear friend of my mom and I came to see me and bring a cute flower with a balloon on it to brighten my room. We chatted, laughed, and enjoyed each other’s company. I remained reclined safely in my bed as any time I would even try to sit up without the bed lifting me my heartrate would jump into the 120’s. Everyone saw it. I was hooked up to all these monitors so they could see anytime my heartrate jumped at the nurse’s desk.
So, that prefaced my next part of the story…
While we were chatting, one of my WONDERFUL nurses came into the room to see if I could get up to go to the bathroom. A: I felt like I needed to and told them so, and B: they needed to see if I could stand on my own two feet.
I could not…
I got up, made it to the bathroom, and mind you I had been doing this at home for two weeks already, not realizing how BAD it was for me to do so…
I make it to the bathroom. I’m dizzy. But man, I had to PEE! So, I start trying to “do my thing” and I hear a phone ring in my room.
Yeah… that was the nurses desk calling my charge nurse to see if I was ALIVE at this point, because (unbeknownst to me) my heart rate was 155 and my BP had bottomed out waaaaaay below readings of anyone who is conscious.
I opened the bathroom door, took one look at my nurse and said, “Yeah… this wasn’t a good idea. I don’t feel well.”
My mother and our dear friend were in the room, eyes fixated on the monitors. My mother’s face was probably as white as mine at this point, obviously not for the same reason, and they were both immobile as the nurse guided me back to my bed.
I collapsed there, dizzy, nauseous, clammy, sweaty, and barely alert at this point.
It took a few minutes for my brain and my body to communicate to each other that I was back in bed and my heart could settle down. But once they did things got a little better by the minute.
More blood. More iron. More blood taken from me to see my counts.
Days of poking, testing, poking, testing, more poking again…
The ablation was done on Sunday morning. I was out for a bit, procedure completed. Pain. Lots of pain. Anxiety and fear that the procedure wouldn’t work. Paranoia. Depression. I missed my kids… a lot!
Thankfully, I had some yarn and my crochet hook with me while I was enjoying my stay at hotel Memorial Hospital. My bestie came to sit and visit the day before I was discharged. She brought her yarn and hook as well, and we got to sit and crochet, sip coffee, and chat about all the happy things in life. It was an uplifting moment during a time when the walls were closing in!
The day I was discharged a dear friend came to visit and bring me coffee. She got to be my ride home, and boy was I GLAD to escape back to my home and my kiddos! That ride home was another uplifting moment in a dark time! We laughed together, caught up with each other on life, and she got to be a witness to another small miracle in my life that will be for another post, another day. I will say this, God’s timing is most definitely impeccable!
Fast forward to today:
The ablation did work. It took months for the effects of the blood clots and then the heavy bleeding to finally fall away, and I do still have some every now and then. But I am doing so much better today than I was 5 months ago!
The support I have received through these months has been amazing! Thank you all for keeping me in thoughts and prayers, and lending assistance while we walked this crazy road!
It also flies when you have no idea what you are doing, or when you have no clue “what just happened here?!”
All the above have been the nutshell of my entire 2024 thus far.
It’s been such a whirlwind that I have no idea where to start!
I know, I know! “Start at the beginning!”
I’ll likely have to do this in parts, due to the amount of writing that will be going into this post. I have a lot of emotions, events, and more that I need to get off my chest, so to speak… so bear with me.
I am going to preface this by saying there will be talk of female issues, medical issues, hospital stays, and a little trauma.
You have now been warned…
Instead of the beginning I shall start at the end… of 2023 that is.
After Christmas, I saw my doctor to talk about options for helping with my HORRIBLE periods, because I was about to do my office rotation for work and my monthly was going to fall on the day I started said rotation. Not good.
After considering my options, I made an informed decision to begin a birth control to help with the situation. I was happy about my choice, and excited to see if this was finally the answer I had been searching for with my situation!
And thus, the journey began…
Things were going well. January came and my rotation began on January 16.
I started to feel sluggish, low on energy, and had minor difficulty with breathing now and then. Everyone else was catching the Flu, Covid, and adults were struggling with RSV as well in my area. I figured I was catching something and didn’t think about it.
Well, I never ran a fever, and I never had any of the other symptoms everyone else was having. It was fatigue and chest tightness for me.
After a week of it getting progressively worse, I made an appointment with my Dr to get it figured out.
After being told I have aggressive allergies, based on my symptoms I agreed, I was given prescription and sent on my way.
My symptoms continued to get worse. To the point that getting off my bed set my heart rate into the 130’s and my ability to breathe without pain was much, much less.
Two days later, I was in the ER. I was worse. In the defense of the doctors, I had only been on my meds for 36 hours and we all know that’s not long enough for basic medication.
The ER agreed with the first diagnosis, again understandable because of the symptoms, and I was given a steroid shot and some steroids to take along with the other medications. That was Wednesday night.
Thursday morning, January 25, I could not get up without my heart rate hitting the 140’s, and all I did was get off my bed to use the bathroom. Sitting up in a chair had my heartrate in the 120’s, and it would not go down! I was getting nervous at this point, and I called off work that morning.
By that afternoon, I knew something was off. Way off!
That evening, Levi drove me to the hospital again, 20 hours after I was there the first time.
The same ER staff was there who was there the night before, and we all shared a giggle at seeing each other again so soon.
After listening to my new and worsening symptoms, they decided to do some extra testing. This is when they found several blood clots in my lungs. But we are getting ahead of ourselves here. This is where the emotions and mental strain comes in…
Levi sat with me all night long. He never fell asleep. He sat up and played on his phone, played on my phone, we talked and had some good chuckles and whatnot.
Around 8am my dad picked him up from the hospital and I told him to just go home and sleep instead of going to school. The poor kid was a zombie! And he was so diligent keeping an eye on his mama.
My sister drops in to see me after her shift working midnights, and it was just after Levi walked out and she walked in that the ER Dr came in to tell me, “I have bad news…”
Now, everyone agrees that it was definitely divine intervention that took Levi home and my sister came to the room minutes before that Dr came in, because she was a ROCK! My sister is superwoman!
As the Dr began to explain what was found and what the treatment would be, I spaced out entirely. I went numb. Shock, maybe? I don’t know. But she saw it, and she kept her eyes on me while listening to this man speak. When I came back to reality JUST enough, she caught my eye and held her hand up toward me and said, “You’re going to be okay. You’re okay.” And at that point the Dr, who (bless his heart) was just rambling on stopped and looked at my stunned self and repeated her words. He reassured me that they were going to do some medications to help with the clots instantly, admit me for a day or two to keep me monitored, and then send me home with blood thinners.
It was at this point he started talking about what can cause blood clots. Anything from a blood disorder to some other stuff, and then he said “extra hormones” and both me and my sister straightened up, looking at each other with that “Ah Yes!” expression. The Dr noticed and asked, and I told him about the BC I am on. “Ok, get that out now! I’ll give you privacy and get your admit paperwork started.” He said as he jumped quickly from his chair. Honestly, I giggled because he acted like he was being chased from the room by the very mention of the Nuva Ring. Haha!
My mom arrived shortly after, once she saw all the kiddos to their school locations, and my sister said she would meet her in the waiting room to give her the update. I’m glad she did. Again, my sister was the hero of the morning when she told Mom what was going on and kept everyone nice and calm about the situation.
I was admitted to that hospital for observation, heart monitors and wires all attached to me. I went along with everything everyone was doing. Mom sat with me in the hospital room as I was being admitted, endured all the questions and answers, and watched as they gave me my first shots and vital checks after admit into the room.
Y’all… I slept better there than I had in WEEKS!!
Probably because I was sick and getting worse, and the medications stopped that from happening, plus it was VERY quiet where I was all day and all night, and at home it is always the absolute opposite of quiet.
When I was released back home I was on Blood Thinners and instructions to follow up with doctors after release.
I did see my primary after all of this and we talked about what had happened, what was expected, and what we would be doing during that time in between.
And then I went home feeling like I was going to be okay, but still a little worried about the upcoming menstrual cycle that would be happening not long after…
And four days later, it did.
And this is where I leave you for this first chapter. Don’t hate the messenger. I’m just typing when I get time! LOL!
We will continue with the next post, as it will be as long, or longer, than this one!!
I miss activities, adventures, groups, friends, connections, etc.
Last night there was a football game at our high school. I have two boys who attend that school.
We did not go…
Last year, one of my sons expressed great interest in joining the football team, even took some steps to get there…
All the forward movement was halted when he had a sports physical that resulted in questions about his progress in puberty. He is less than three months from his fifteenth birthday.
There is no puberty.
Never was.
No signs of it even starting.
Instead, there is a nonactive tumor squishing his pituitary gland.
This is not about that, though. That is an entirely different story in itself.
This is about missing out… and trying to figure out why, how, and if we can fix this problem.
Yes, I’m being transparent here.
There’s a lot to say. There’s a lot to be transparent about.
Why? Because I know I’m NOT the only one who struggles with this, exact issue regarding “missing out.”
Let’s go back a few years (Okay maybe a decade or more…) when I was an active member of society.
I had high hopes and dreams for a future with kids in sports, clubs, doing all the things I was able to do as a child and even more! Cub Scouts, Sunday School, youth groups, school sports, little league sports, all the things.
Life threw a curve ball here and there… well, it threw a LOT of them.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I know everyone gets curve balls thrown at them! Again, major reason we are being transparent here…
I’m not special. My struggles are not “bigger than yours” but everyone handles every level of stress, negative life events, loss, and betrayals differently.
Me? Yeah… I hid from the world.
Long story short, a decade of less-than-healthy choices (both external and internal choices) lead me to isolating myself.
I was sad when those close to me didn’t get involved with the things I was so excited about for my kids. I was overworked being the only one who took them to events, helped with homework, projects, socializing them, etc. I was already struggling with my own depression and to add burn-out to the pile just shut me down.
And shut down I remained… for a solid three years. Minimum.
I hid myself and my family from the world.
I was tired of hearing falsehoods about myself and my family from people who didn’t even know me.
I was tired of being seen at the grocery store and then hearing a whole, new rumor about myself a week later from “concerned friends.”
I was tired of carrying a label. I was “the bad guy” in a lot of things. Everywhere I turned I didn’t see “friends” anymore. I saw spies. I saw liars. I saw betrayal at every turn.
Eventually, I stopped seeing anything good.
My vision was murky with pain, heartache, anxiety, depression, loss, and eventually… full-blown bitterness.
Bitter Becca. That’s what I dubbed myself.
Yep. I did. I wore my own title like a badge and shield.
It has taken me years to grow from the little, broken roots that I was cut down into.
Four years, to be exact.
I would take a step forward and then two steps back over the course of the past four years. Sometimes I would break even, and I would get so excited! Then another step back.
Of my 5 children, two are in special education classes. I have often wondered if I could have done something to prevent this from happening for them. Was it me? Did I not work hard enough to get them through to a higher level?
They don’t have many friends, limited to the ones secluded in these classrooms with them for their entire academic life.
My one, school-aged child who is not in such classes struggles with depression (possibly related to the puberty issue? We don’t really know), also very few friends, and the inability to follow through with many things. Again, I sit and wonder if I have ‘less-than-succeeded’ with him as well.
I lived years without taking my kids into society. School was it. They never asked to go to games, events, trips, etc.
My oldest did go to a couple of dances during Junior High, before Covid stole that from us. To see his face light up the way it did when he got home, telling stories about how fun the music was, learning some cool moves, the snacks and drinks they got to enjoy made my heart so glad.
Sometimes I wonder how that could be 4 years ago…
I sit in my bed, unable to sleep many nights, and reflect on things. I write in my journal, make lists in my notebooks, read books and my Bible, scroll FB and watch a world around me be social and active, and I have cried.
Not tears of depression.
Tears of fear. Actual Fear.
Because I want to go. I want to get out there.
But I have come so far mentally, emotionally, and even spiritually in my little isolated space that the thought of stepping out and ending up with another “step back” wrenches my gut!
My family, and my few, close friends can tell stories of me being excited about a thing and then talking myself out of it within minutes.
I want to be involved. I want my kids to be involved.
I’m just trying to figure out how to push past my fear. Fear that developed a lack of interest, motivation, and increased avoidance of public places and events.
My fears used to be focused solely on people talking. Over time it just became a fear of people, period.
I will say that I am happy Child #3 expressed interest in participating in the Labor Day Parade last week with his aunt. And he obviously had a blast!
My oldest expressed a renewed interest in music last night. Band, specifically.
In elementary school he wanted to be in the band. He struggled with the multi-step instructions and music reading, resulting in his not being given that desired opportunity.
He mentioned it again last night as we watched the band prepare for the football game.
My boys attend an e-sports group after school on some days, and yesterday happened to be one. As I was picking them up, people were arriving to the school to prepare for the game.
I mean… is it too late? Is he too old? Did I cause him to lose out on opportunities in life? These are questions I ask myself at night when I am alone in my room.
Can I turn some things around, upside right, and build us up from where we stand today?
I think I can one minute and then I question myself the next.
So, here in my transparent moment, I want to step up and step out.
Maybe the next football game, I won’t talk myself out of going.
Take a step. And then take another.
Someone recently told me that first steps are hard, and she is right. But they are necessary to keep going forward.
And like a baby learning to walk, I took my first ones a little shaky.
If there is anyone out there who is struggling, whether it be anxiety like me, addiction, depression, fear, or anything…
Just know I’m taking some first steps too.
We can start together.
And… we can make it to the top together.
I almost feel super pumped right now. Haha!
I just want to raise my fist in the air today and say “by golly I’m going to socialize! In person!”
And when I finally do… I’ll let you know how it goes. 😊
Thank you for enduring my transparent moment for the day.
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