Tag: grief

Depression, Guest Blogger, Medical Issues

No Thanks to You Part 2

Barefoot Faith Journey

 

 

No Thanks to You Part 2

No Thanks to You Part 2

I didn’t do things the way you wanted me to. Honestly, I like to make notes. I don’t shred things as often as you would like because I fear losing something important. Frankly, I still do that to this day. I am good at returning phone calls, but you insist that I write down every number and every message, so I don’t forget to call them back. Lastly, I can do several things at once, and you didn’t like that. 

 

You are very controlling, too much micromanaging my work. Honestly, you knew I did a good job, so why didn’t you let me do things my way? You told me everyone does things differently and gets their rhythm. I had my rhythm, but you wanted to change who I was as a person and employee. I took issue with that. 

 

Depression Over my Job

 

I got so depressed at this job and anxious over doing a good job that I had to get medicated. Every time you walked into the room, I wondered what I had done wrong now? You started making a point to notice every tiny detail of something I missed or got wrong. That is not how a boss should be to his employees. You didn’t praise me anymore. You didn’t show any sign that I was enough for this job. 

 

You expected more and more from me. When I needed help, you were conveniently not around. I tried to get your help with a matter, and you were not available to help me. I made a mistake. I acknowledge that. But your biggest mistake was not being around when I needed you—and not training me as you should. 

 

Another Low Blow

 

I cannot believe that you tried to take my unemployment from me. That was one of the lowest things that you did to me. I was mortified. And when I explained this to the woman at the unemployment office the situation, she quickly understood that it was not me but you. I am glad she saw it my way. 

 

You kept meeting with me with a disappointed look in your eyes. And you dragged him into this? The look on his face was regretful for having to deal with your misogynistic, sexist, backward, lying actions. Telling me we can fix this, and if you get yourself medicated, it will be fixed. You made me feel like the problem was with me and not you and that it was all my fault for the very few mistakes I did make. 

 

You made me feel less than human. 

 

I was just a troubled, sad person who couldn’t perform well at my job without being medicated. Do you have any idea what I was going through at that time of my life? That I was going through a break-up months from getting married? My grandfather almost died, and you didn’t bat an eye. I was so sad. And you made me feel like, at least in the beginning, that we were a team and you would help me through anything. 

 

But you didn’t even bother to ask. You just assumed I was okay and moved on. Frankly, you didn’t care what happened to me. You didn’t watch. And that was hurtful because you said I could trust you. 

 

Smack in the Middle the Lies Began

 

Then, you let me go in the middle of all the shit I was dealing with within a week of the end of my probationary period. I had nothing. Nothing. Nothing to live for anymore. You were the last straw in my life. I was already dealing with so much pain and agony, and you treated me this way. After all the work I did for you. All those extra hours I worked. 

You told me that I was rude to inmates and that I talked over them. That was all a lie. You said to me that a clerk filed a complaint against me. That was also a lie. I don’t even know what I did to offend her, but life continues. The judges liked me. They still do—funny thing how lies work. I have never had a single issue in that courthouse in my job now. I am respected and well-liked by everyone. 

 

You told me that I wasn’t a good fit. 

 

Then why waste my time and yours? You could have let me go a lot sooner. If I were that lousy employee, you would have cut your losses sooner. Isn’t that what you told me about Charlotte in Frankfort? That you should cut your losses and fire me. 

You told me that to scare me. I don’t even think that woman knows my name or anything about me. I was a week from being a tenured employee. And you decided to cut me then; you milked me for all the work I was good enough for. Then you dumped me on the curb like yesterday’s trash. I was no longer your prodigy. 

 

 

Depression, Guest Blogger, Medical Issues

No Thanks to You

Barefoot Faith Journey

No Thanks to You

No Thanks to You

No Thanks to You. I held such resentment for you. I still have some resentment for the way you treated me. At first, you made me feel like I was a prodigy, that I could do it all. You knew my family and me; their reputation preceded me. I was hired on pretty quickly and showed you all my potential. 

You made me feel special, that I was doing so well. I worked well with you, judges, lawyers, inmates, and jail staff. I was good at my job. I did my best to be impartial, no matter the charge. I never gave anyone reason to believe that I disliked them. I was calm and collected. 

 

Everyone loved me. 

 

The jail staff, my co-workers, and the court staff, everyone loved me. I had no complaints. No one came to me or had any issues with me. My co-worker vouched for me so many times because she knew how good of an employee I was. So what I don’t understand is why you turned on me. After you hired your new protege, I fell by the wayside. 

 

I was still doing exemplary work and detailed assessments, and nothing escaped me. I did well in court, was respectful to all, and did my job. And it was a stressful job, with many things at stake, and I worked without complaint. 

 

You Promised

 

You promised me that you would train me further, that I would be attending all these pieces of training to make me better. But you failed. I did not receive those pieces of training. Therefore, I had to learn a lot of things myself. Every time I had an issue, I told you that I did not feel right every time someone asked something of me. 

 

When she became a supervisor, she also fell in this time. She disliked me for some reason. I tried to be kind, still told her all my issues, and filled her in on essential details. She is so fake. I can’t understand why you listened to her over me. 

 

Choosing One Over the Other

 

I never gave you a reason not to trust me. She gave you every reason. It was always my word against hers, and it was always the issue with her. She is a snake in the grass, and I am surprised not more people see that in her. She pretends to be a good person and would play Christian music at work, but I could see that she was faking it. Her actions did not prove she was a good person. 

 

She went behind my back to you over an issue I struggled with. I knew the protocol. I knew what would happen. She was standing over me, talking in my ear with another person, standing over my shoulder, behind me, waiting for me to call. I may have been short with her, but I did as she requested. 

 

Honest Truth

 

I don’t do well when people are behind me. I don’t do well with people barking orders at me and micromanaging me. When I later asked her if there were any issues, she assured me there weren’t. And foolishly, I believed her. Then, like the snake, she went to you without telling me. And that was the knife in the back that hurt me. 

I do not trust very quickly. You and she are two of those reasons. First, you told me that you would help me and train me further, that I could trust you. I relied on you to help me because you said that you would. But you didn’t; you failed in that regard. 

 

Depression, Guest Blogger, Medical Issues, Suicide Awareness and Prevention

Hurt People Hurt People

Barefoot Faith Journey

Hurt People Hurt People

Hurt People Hurt People

A phrase my mom has always said is Hurt People Hurt People. That is an accurate phrase. I always thought that I was your favorite person. You would make time to come down and see me. You brought me books and movies. We would go to the movies and have the best time ever. It meant everything to me that we had a good relationship. But all that changed, now you can barely say two words to me. Now you won’t even make eye contact with me most of the time. And to be honest, it is hard for me to talk to you because I don’t know what to say. 

 

Life After Death

 

After my cousin died, I was hurt so much after realizing that he may not be in heaven where I desperately wanted him to be. After him leaving so suddenly and I never got the chance to say goodbye, it was hard on me. Because I loved him and wanted to know I would see him again. And I loved you so much that I wanted to know that if you left suddenly, I would see you again. 

 

Blaming Myself

 

Do you know my mom would not even let me read the letter you sent back to me? Because she knew it would hurt me if I read it. It was easier for me not to have to read it. I blamed myself for ruining our relationship. But now, I think it was more on you than on me. I was coming from a place of love but sadness and hurt. I didn’t understand why you didn’t believe the way that I did. I had no idea you would react the way you did. 

 

You Stopped 

 

You stopped writing to me. Also, you stopped all communication. You just stopped. That was hurtful to me. I looked up to you. I wanted to come to stay with you and wanted to be like you. I admired you for being as successful as you were. I understand now that what I said may have offended you, but I was a child and didn’t understand how it would offend you at the time. 

 

Ensured Salvation

 

In my mind, I wanted to ensure that I would see you again. I wouldn’t have to know that you would be in the next life and not in a bad place. I was hurting so much, and I was only a child. How was I supposed to know that one email would change our relationship forever? 

 

I think our Aunt blames me for our relationship not being where it used to be. I can see it on her face. I can feel it in her energy. But I know this was not my fault. My intentions were not of malice. You sent very hurtful letters back to me. It was not my intent to hurt you. Ever. 

 

Now, I Understand

 

I have gone through a tough time since then. I have suffered much, and you have no idea. And I so desperately wanted you to love and accept me like I love and accept you now. I feel guilty because I didn’t mean to hurt you. I would never intentionally hurt you in any way. I would hope you felt the same way about me. I do not judge your lifestyle. I am not a child anymore. I now understand how offensive some statements can be, and I choose not to make those statements. 

 

I love you. I want you to love me too. 

 

 

Depression, Guest Blogger, Medical Issues, Suicide Awareness and Prevention

Happy Without You

Barefoot Faith Journey

The Pain of Losing a Friendship

Happy Without You

This young lady shares her feelings about losing a special friendship in Happy Without You. Friendships come and go like the ebbs and flows of the ocean. That is what I tell so many people because it puts in perspective that the things of this Earth are not forever. Yet, losing a friendship is so very hard. I always say you can either release them and enjoy the memories or hold onto them and be left with scars as Jesus rips them out of your hand.

 

This story is written by a young lady who is experiencing the loss of her relationship with a friend. Her pain is evident, and this is her way of releasing those emotions healthily. I pray for peace and restoration for her and her friend. We always have to remember “but God.” He is the healer of all things in His time.

 

 

 

Happy Without You

 

Happy Without You. Hey, you know that if you want to hang out with me, you can text me. I am not trying to make you think that I don’t give a shit about you. I would hate for you to feel that way. You know, you really should be careful of what you put out in this world. You could hurt someone. 

Hence the reason I have taken measures to prevent you from hurting me. And this is only one of many instances. I have to do this for my mental health. It was hard and hurtful to see and hear those things, these passive-aggressive, attention-seeking words that bore deep in my soul. 

 

My Offering and Your Response

 

I have offered to be friends, have fun, live our lives together, create things, and make things I knew you would like. And you decide to say some bullshit like that? And even if you didn’t mean it towards me, maybe it wasn’t your intent. Doesn’t matter. Still hurt. And sorry is not going to fix this. 

 

I am so sick and tired of your antics and your attention-seeking behavior. Do you even care about me? You haven’t once asked me how I have been. Not in all of this time. Not then and not now. Do you know how much that hurts? Honestly, do you know how badly I want someone I can trust? Do you know how badly I want to be your friend? 

 

Why Stop?

 

You quit texting me. Also, You stopped hanging out with me. You. Not me. This is your fault, not mine. It is all on you. You make things about yourself anyway, so why should this be any different? I feel unwelcome in your presence. Awkward is what I feel because I cannot trust you. I don’t know how to act around you. Honestly, I don’t know who you are anymore. And it is so hard that I can’t trust you anymore. 

 

My Reasons

 

So, do you want to know why I don’t make plans? Because every time I have tried, you find someone or something better for you to do. And that hurts. I would go above and beyond to make you feel welcome so you wouldn’t see my depression. So you wouldn’t have to see my anxiety. So you wouldn’t have to see my trauma. You don’t seem interested in hanging out with me. Do you ever try and point the finger at yourself? Or is it everyone else’s fault but yours? 

 

What Did I do?

 

What did I do to hurt you? Is this my fault after all? Everything is usually my fault; that comes from my trauma. But do you even care? No, you don’t bother to ask. I was there for you for everything. I helped you. I supported you. I loved you. And I got nothing in return. And I didn’t want anything. Because that is what true friendship is really like. Or have you forgotten? 

 

I don’t know who you are anymore, understand your thought process, and know why you have such disdain for me. Frankly, I don’t understand your words. I am hurt, and I can’t trust you. Trust is such a fickle thing for me. Once you break my trust, you are gone. And I gave you so many chances. But no more. I have tried and tried and tried some more to open myself up to you. 

 

What You Don’t Know

 

Do you know that I have been in trauma therapy for months? Do you know the horrors I have had to relive? Do you know how bad my depression has gotten? Do you know that I have panic attacks when I am triggered? Do you know that my anxiety is through the roof most of the time? No. BECAUSE YOU DON’T CARE. You don’t care; otherwise, you would have said something. You would have asked. 

 

I want to be passive-aggressive back to you. I want to say something so passive-aggressive it makes your blood boil. So you could know what it feels like when you say something like what you did. But I am a bigger person. So I won’t do that. And that is ok. But I secretly want you to read this. I want you to know how badly you have hurt me. I want you to know how many hours I have cried over our friendship. I want you to know. 

 

I Have Always Loved You

 

But it is getting harder and harder to love you each day. I am heartbroken. It is your fault. I am not going to sugarcoat anything. You are one of the reasons why I don’t trust anyone. I trusted you, and you broke it. I felt betrayed and so alone. Do you know how badly I wanted to be your friend? Can you even fathom it? 

 

You are one of the Best People I Have Ever Known.

 

However, I don’t even recognize you anymore. It is not because I judge you. I never have and never will. I have done enough things that I am ashamed of, and I do not feel the need to judge every single person I meet. So if that’s why you hate me so much, get that thought out of your head. I have never judged you and never will. But you have changed. The person I thought cared about me doesn’t seem to exist anymore. 

 

Someone to Trust

 

I want someone to tell my story too. That is something I want. I desire that. But I can’t do that with you. You made sure of that. Trauma is a bitch. But I have been stuck in my little bubble for so long that it is hard for me to reach out. Because of the times, I have tried to reach out, I was judged and retreated into my bubble. And now, I am working through this messy middle of trauma therapy, which is not easy. Not that you care. Again, you never asked. 

 

So instead of blaming everyone else, why don’t you start blaming yourself? You pushed everyone away, the people closest to you. I was one of those people that you drove away. You are the definition of a guilt trip. You are such a triggering person. You gaslight people into thinking that it is their fault instead of yours. Your guilt and manipulation to get your way. In a way, I am better off without you. 

 

Without You

 

Without you, I would have survived my trauma. I got married without you. Without you, I got myself into treatment. I was blessed with the best gift anyone could ask for without you. It’s currently kicking inside of me now. Without you, I would have survived my suicidal ideations. I got myself medicated without you. Without you, I got my life back on track. I got closer to Jesus without you. All of these things I did without you. 

 

And you know what? I am a freaking fantastic person. And you are missing out. So peace, love, and Spock signal. I hope you are happy. Because I sure am. Happy without you. 

 

Life or Something Like It

Honoring My Lady and My Best Friend

Barefoot Faith Journey

Honoring My Lady and My Best Friend

Honoring My Lady and My Best Friend

Today, I am Honoring My Lady and My Best Friend. Every time I see this picture, this Lady is GORGEOUS in red! That was my favorite color on her. She was smiling because it was her 81st birthday, and her “boyfriend,” aka Big Daddy, was taking her on a fish date. I was the third wheel because all best friends are great third wheels.

How She Loved Bart

She loved him so much. Even during a very trying time in our marriage, she could have just said: “Leave him,” but she did not say that. She carried my weary body into her home, placed her beautiful hand on my hand and the other on my head, and prayed.

Then, she picked up the phone and called a trusted and fantastic human. She briefly (and discreetly) said a few things and then hung up the phone. As she looked up at me with tears in her eyes and a smile, she said: “It is going to be okay.”

In Time

It was, but during that “it time” part, she held me accountable for my words and actions. She also had another man work with Bart. Together, they walked with us through the mud. Our marriage is stronger because of the prayers and advice we received.

I miss her so much that I physically ache. Everyone should have a Ms. Jo. I mean everyone. Someone strong, not afraid to speak her mind, and loves so completely. I never doubted that she loved me. She never doubted that I loved her.

I Wish We Had More Time

We had little time, ten years maybe, not long enough. It is as simple as that. What started as me admiring grace and beauty (and her voice) moved on to noticing her beautifully crooked finger. Then it matriculated into me timidly requesting her to be my mentor. Quickly, followed by me sitting on her porch and squalling. I cried so bad that she said we were making the neighbors talk and, for the love of all, to get in the house.

Next, it moved to me helping out here and there, going to lunch, and running errands. Lastly, it moved more into caregiving and sitting with my Lady. Many nights of me making supper and eating it together while watching Jag. Cleaning. Oh my goodness, I cleaned things out. We looked at her billions of pictures, and I soaked up all her memories.

Find a Mentor

Talk to your church and see if you can set up a mentor/mentee program. It is so worth every moment! “Likewise, teach the older women to be reverent in the way they live, not to be slanderers or addicted to much wine, but to teach what is good. Then they can urge the younger women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled and pure, to be busy at home, to be kind, and to be subject to their husbands, so that no one will malign the word of God.” Titus 2:3-5).

You will not regret it. I miss you, Lady. More than I can even describe. My best friend, person, mentor, accountability partner, and teacher. I am so excited to see you again! Until we see each other again, I love your face off in heaven!

Depression, Medical Issues, Suicide Awareness and Prevention

The Rest of my Story Let the Tears Flow

Barefoot Faith Journey

The Rest of my Story Let the Tears Flow

The Rest of my Story Let the Tears Flow

The Rest of my Story Let the Tears Flow. The flow for the pain these people went through. The pain that their family and loved ones have gone through. The lost time, confusion, hurt, and then that moment of despair.

Office Buddy

The man that I worked with was the life of the office. We shared our office space, and we had the most fun, hands down, of any other office. He introduced me to his lovely ‘female friend’ and her son, C. They were all so dang cute together. We all loved hanging out, and C had a bit of a crush on me. He was like 8, so it was pretty sweet. There was no surprise that they would get married soon after they met. Then along came baby B! Wow, what a transition.

My friend got another job in another town (close by). He wasn’t too far away, and so he commuted. His wife continued to work, and both boys began school. Life seemed to be good for them until the moment when I got the phone call.

Screams

The screams of my friend’s wife still bounce around in my head from time to time. I didn’t realize that my friend was struggling with mental illness because their family put on an excellent show. It turns out he couldn’t move forward and made a devastating choice for those who loved him. I will never forget the look on her face when she told me what happened. She was talking, but she wasn’t present. This is something you never get over. You always wonder what you could have done differently. The pain does not cease with time.

All In the Family

Here is another family that is close to my heart. Well, when I met this family, they were infectious. The dad was loud and in your face. Mom was loud and loved to talk and make friends. The kids were big. Loud. Boisterous. Kids. A blended and unique family that seemed to figure out how to make it work.

Again, from the outside, life looked awesome. Great job for him. Great job for her. Kids in college, school, military, money, lovely house. Then, you open the door to this beautiful home and see what is going on behind closed doors.

Silence, arguing, pain, grudges, fights, booze, meds, threats, screaming. There was one person of stability in the house, and he was fantastic. Sadly, the Lord called this person home. That’s when things started falling apart. The marriage was dwindling, and the kids were not doing what they needed to do. Then prescription drugs and alcohol began to play a factor.

Instability

When a parent is unstable, and children witness or deal with suicidal attempts or threats, it alters their minds forever. Sadly this is the case. Due to undiagnosed medical conditions, the struggle has been consciously breathing in and out every day. So, it is no surprise when one of her children followed her in her footsteps. Generational curses can be broken! Thankfully, everyone in this family is doing their best to take the next right step.

2 Families, Same Story

Drugs, alcohol, abuse, feelings of unworthiness, and depression plagued two boys. One was a young boy, not even a teen. The other was a young man with a brand new baby to love. In my eyes, both of these boys were loved, but in their eyes, they were not worthy of love. They were useless, and people would be better off without them. Knowing the people that saw what happened that day and ran to their rescue haunts me. I cannot even imagine seeing what they saw and the strength it took them to save these boys. The thankfulness that these, now men, are still alive does not leave my mind.

Yet, they are still struggling with the same things they did when they were younger. The boy of the story cannot work, drive, or do much of anything. He is confined to one space. How heartbreaking to wake up every day to the same thing day after day with no hope of getting out of that space.

The young man in the story is working and doing okay. Raising children and trying to do life in the best way he knows how. He copes with drugs and alcohol and still suffers from depression. I hope that these young men can see who they are in God’s eyes. They are loved beyond measure.

The Screams of a Mother

There is nothing quite like that phone call. This mom has given her life to raising her children in God’s light. She loves her children and has made enormous sacrifices for them. She has made decisions that no parent should have to make. Then, her young son does the unthinkable and succeeds. It was the most heart-wrenching thing I have ever heard. All I could do was pray for peace—her voice.

My Sweet Friend

I met this sweet friend at a place that helped my son. She had a kind smile and a loud laugh. Shortly after we met and became friends, she was diagnosed with cancer. She fought that battle and won. We missed seeing her every week, but it was safer to be home and not get sick. Treatments are hard on a body.

I was thrilled when I saw her walking toward me one day. She had her bandana on her head and a smile on her face. My son was so excited to see her, as well. Again, this woman I knew had some struggles, but for the most part, she “seemed” happy until she wasn’t.

Sigh, I can’t even begin. Articulate properly. Precious human. She is now at peace though missed here.

Then There was Leigh Ann

My loud, firecracker, sailor-mouthed friend. Fearless. Brilliant. Beautiful. All of the stories I told have taken a piece of my heart. Leigh Ann, however, has taken a chunk. Again, the horror of hearing her mama and the words coming out of her mouth. The useless feeling washed over me as I held her sweet son while he sobbed. Her daughter. Brother. Even her dog was mourning.

I have written about her before, and I will not discuss her life or death in this post. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think of her. Honestly, not a night goes by when I close my eyes and see her staring back at me. Her death was one of the most painful experiences of my life. I am not okay.

Parting Thoughts

I have dedicated this whole month to awareness and suicide prevention. I have posted myths and facts on my Facebook page, as well. Honestly, I have no idea how many people even read what I write, but it is healing for me. I heard this not long ago, this statement. If a person were in their right mind at that moment, they would never follow through with suicide. I say this because if they were in their right mind, they would think about the NEXT moment. For instance, who would find them? How would they live in or drive by the place where it occurred? What about their children? If they had them, what would they grow up knowing?

So many questions and so few answers.

Moments are fleeting, but the Truth of the Lord remains. Your life is worth more than all the rubies and gold in heaven. He created you in the image of His Son. Jesus loves you without abandon, and you have to do nothing to earn it. There is help, and there is hope. You are loved. Your life is worth living. Please think about that next moment after you imagine your “success.” Think about the other person who will find you and have to tell your loved ones.

Seek help. Medication. Therapy. Self-care.

Some of my friends survived, and too many were lost to suicide. I have put off writing this and posting this for a month and all day today. It is hard, and I know I will have bad dreams tonight. I am always trying to save everyone. You can save yourself by calling any of these resources to help you!

Resources

1.800.273.8255 Suicide Hotline

1.800.799.7233 National Domestic Violence Hotline

1.800.422.4453 Childhelp National Child Abuse Hotline

1.866.488.7386 The Trevor Project LGBTQ? Hotline

 

Depression, Guest Blogger, Medical Issues, Suicide Awareness and Prevention

Where to Start

Barefoot Faith Journey

Where to Start

Where to Start

Where to Start? I guess I will tell the story of my darkest time yet most significant recovery. I should start at the beginning. My husband and I struggled with infertility for years. After testing, we were told that seeing a fertility specialist was our only option for having our children. We were advised there that IVF was our best option.

Beginning IVF

We began our cycle in May 2015. June 5, 2015, was the day we were scheduled to have our embryo transfer. An embryo transfer is where they transfer the embryos into the uterus. Hopefully, they will implant and begin a pregnancy. I woke up to a message during the night that said, “taking Grandaddy to the hospital for chest pains.” Then another said: “They’re sending him to Nashville.” I had tried to call as we got our day around and headed to the IVF office. I was an hour ahead, so no one answered.

 

Transfer Began

 

We got to the office and got ready to go into the transfer room. I’m lying there on the table as my husband holds my hand. They have an ultrasound probe pointed at me and a camera in the lab. “We are selecting the strongest two embryos hoping one will implant. As we discussed, this gives you a 33% chance at twins, but that is a manageable pregnancy.”

 

My World Began to Unravel

 

We watched as the lab technician drew two little embryos into a syringe. They brought it to us as we confirmed the identification. We watched as these two babies, our babies, were inserted into a catheter and landed in my uterus. “We need you to lay flat for an hour when you leave this room. You can go to the restroom and then lie down.” I went to the bathroom, returned, laid down, and grabbed my phone.

 

“Grandaddy has had a heart attack. We are on our way but aren’t to him yet.” My memory is pretty foggy after that. I know my uncle called me. “Grandaddy is going to pull through. Just like he always has. The doctors have always been wrong.” I knew. I knew the last time I saw him would be the last time.

 

A Choice to Make

 

Our doctor came in, and I asked if I could go to Nashville that night. I told him I needed to say goodbye to my Grandaddy. I needed to see him one last time. “You need to decide if you want to see your Grandaddy or if you want these babies and this pregnancy.” I knew what Grandaddy would tell me if he could. He would say to me to take care of the babies. “Grandaddy isn’t going to recover.” The moment the doctors had confirmed what God had already told me was going to happen. I couldn’t go for 48 hours.

 

If Heaven Wasn’t So Far Away

 

That night, they called all of our family in. When my dad arrived, they made the call and took Grandaddy off of life support. My brother had called me and let me talk to him before they did. “Grandaddy, it’s your Punkin. I’m pregnant. Do you hear me? I’m pregnant. There are two babies inside me right now growing. Watch over them, please. Keep them safe and protect them. If it doesn’t go my way, and I don’t get to keep them, hold them while I wait. I love you always.”

 

Fifty hours after our embryo transfer, I was at the airport in Detroit, MI, to Nashville, TN, to come and see my family as we laid my Grandaddy to rest. I took a leap of faith and told everyone we were expecting. We played the song “If Heaven Wasn’t So Far Away ” at his funeral.

 

June 15, 2015

 

The day before his 75th birthday, we got the call that we were indeed pregnant. Our first round of IVF was successful. Six weeks into our pregnancy, we found out both embryos had implanted, and we were expecting TWINS!! Ten weeks into our pregnancy, we discovered a complication with baby B. My placenta was too close to my uterus. There was a chance we could miscarry them.

 

I was on a weight and activity restriction for two more weeks. We decided if baby B survived, we would name this baby after Grandaddy. Twenty weeks into our pregnancy, I felt our girls kick for the first time. “If Heaven Wasn’t So Far Away” was playing on the radio when it happened. Thirty-five weeks into our pregnancy, we were told she had a hole in her heart that would need to be repaired at birth. Thirty-seven weeks five days into our pregnancy, I was told the babies were out of the room, and we had to induce. Thirty-eight weeks one day, I check-in, and we begin our induction with our sweet girls.

 

They Are Here

 

They did not tolerate this well, and because of their struggle, we ended an emergency c-section 27.5 hours later. Baby A was 4lb 12oz. Baby B was 4lb 3oz. One hour after their birth, baby B was taken from us and put into the NICU due to low blood sugar and issues with her temperature. Five days after their birth, they went home with me at just 4lb 6oz. And 3lb 15oz. A few days later, we were told baby B had some concerning blood work and needed to be tested for cystic fibrosis. At eight weeks, she was tested, and it was negative. You see, she has always been Grandaddy’s baby. In July of 2008, we were told not to expect to have him that year for Christmas.

Tomorrow, the Story is Continued.

Depression, Guest Blogger, Medical Issues, Suicide Awareness and Prevention

Struggling with Depression and Anxiety at a Young Age

Barefoot Faith Journey

Struggling with Depression and Anxiety at a Young Age

Struggling with Depression and Anxiety at a Young Age

I have struggled with Depression and Anxiety a Young Age since I was young. My parents divorced when I was two and a half years old. Then both parents remarried. My mom had two other daughters with my stepfather. He was mentally and physically abusive to my mother, sisters, and me. I never knew my birth father. He had remarried and lived somewhere else. I didn’t have any contact with him. Never did I know the truth until later.

The Truth Comes Out

I didn’t know he was my stepfather until I was 8. When I found out, I cried because I was confused. I remember seeing my real dad on visitation right after he and my stepmom married. That was when I was four, and that was the last time I saw him until I was 14. No one ever talked about my real dad. Then, one day, I asked my stepdad about the man who kidnapped me. That was the story my mom always told me. My stepfather, however, wanted to tell me the truth that he was not my real dad. He tried to tell me that the man I was told kidnapped me was my biological father.

Seeking Approval

At such an early age, I was always seeking my mother’s approval. I guess I did this because she never was around. Since she was never around, I was taking care of my sisters. Someone had to be the mother after her second divorce. Sadly, I was molested by one of my mother’s boyfriends when I was 12. When I was 13, my mother left my sisters and me. There was no reason, no goodbye, nothing.

Life After She Left

I lived with family members until they didn’t want me. Then I ended up living with my best friend and her mom. Finally, at age 15, my birth father contacted me, and I went to live with him and his family. The transition was tough because I had never really had a family before. That transition took a lot of getting used to for me. Having a stepmother, not knowing how to deal with her or what to expect from her. My birth mother was not a mother at all.

I Missed My Sisters

My sisters were living with other family members. I had to get used to having a father who didn’t physically abuse me. He was trying to be a father to me, which I was not used to having. Furthermore, I was learning how to cope with my anxiety and depression by myself. Sure my stepmother got me into therapy as soon as I moved here. Sadly, I didn’t know how to apply it to myself to help me. I was 15 years old and still hurt by my mother abandoning my sisters and me. She didn’t feel like being a mother anymore. I didn’t see my sisters again until I was 19 years old.

Still Seeking Approval

I tried too hard to have a relationship with my stepmother. It was next to impossible to have one with her. She was challenging to get along with, but I still tried. I married my high school sweetheart right out of high school. We started dating when I was 16, and he was 15, soon to be 16. He was my best friend. Still, I struggled so badly with my anxiety and depression. Our marriage had some pretty rough patches that changed me forever.

Resources

If you or someone you know is being abused, PLEASE reach out.

ChildHelp Hotline

National Domestic Violence Hotline

Suicide Prevention Lifeline

 

Depression, Medical Issues, Suicide Awareness and Prevention

Suicide Sprinkled Throughout My Life

Barefoot Faith Journey

Suicide Sprinkled Throughout My Life

Suicide Sprinkled Throughout My Life

In Suicide Sprinkled Throughout My Life, I talk about how I was “introduced” to suicide. Sadly, I didn’t understand what it meant until I was older. I saw people sad, and I knew that people had died, but that was the extent. Honestly, I didn’t understand what death meant. I was ten years old before I had even heard that word. When I was 14, I experienced what death was. There was a more profound understanding because my grandfather had died.

Throughout My Series

I have documented stories throughout this month dedicated to Suicide Prevention Awareness. All of the stories are from people I know and love. I have been blessed to be in a chapter of the book God is writing for them. It has been hard for them to live, much less writes. Also, it has been hard for me to read and publish. Yet, I tell them that their stories can reach other people. Their story may be the light that another person needs to seek help. They must go through the pain to find healing on the other side.

My Heart Aches

To know what these people have been through hurts my heart. I yearn for Jesus to erase all the bad and come quickly to stop all the hurt and abuse.  He will come, like a thief in the night.  He will not come when I want Him to. Jesus says that all things will also be used for His glory. I have to rest on that knowledge. He didn’t ordain these acts, abuse, hurt. These were due to the free will of man. Yet, He did allow it, which will be used for good.

Introduction to the Foreign Concept of Suicide

I was about 10. The young man was a friend of our family and loved riding horses. I remember, once, riding our horse, and she threw me off. I was on the ground, terrified of this “beast” of a horse. I say ‘beast’ because she was just a pony about the size of a large dog. She had knocked the breath out of me. I guess she got spooked.

This friend of the family was outside watching. His leg was broken, and I remember the cast going up to his thigh. I was in awe at how he maneuvered around. As I lay there, crawling away, ready to go and cry in my room and NEVER get on a horse again, here he comes.

Amazing Feat

First, he tossed those crutches (I may be exaggerating here, but I was young, and the memory plays like a black and white film in my head) down. Then he leaped on that horse and “tamed” the beast. Cast and all. Once he calmed Baby, he jumped off. I remember him looking me square in the eye and saying, “get back on.” Indeed, he was not serious, yet he was. I tried to squirm out of it, and he would not let me up.

He hoisted me back up on that beast, and off she walked (she was too fat to run). I was amazed at him and what he did. He tamed that beast and told me not to be afraid. After that, I was thrown off many times. Yet, I remember Lee and that image and those words.

I was no longer afraid.

Then It Happened

Whispers. Small details. Crying. Lee no longer came around. I didn’t understand, and no one said anything above that whisper. The silence was deafening. I think of him often when I get scared. Fear is a liar. I am no longer afraid.

Quickly after that incident was my next memory of another family friend who chose suicide. Again, same scenario. He was there, whispers, small details, crying. He no longer came around. A sadness fell upon those I loved, and I didn’t understand why. The word ‘suicide’ was never used…yet now I know.

In Another Decade of my Life

I lost another person that I loved dearly. Completely unexpected. So many people so loved him. Talented beyond anything I could comprehend. This one rocked me to the core. Horrible. It is unnatural to bury your child (even an adult) due to suicide. This time, I was old enough to understand everything, and my heart sank.

And It Keeps Coming Around

My friend, whom I met in a Christian group, struggled with so much. She could not see her worth the way I saw it. Oh, she is so precious to me. She has gone through ebbs and flows in her life, but in the end, she is one of the people I love dearly. I am so thankful that she was not successful in her attempts. The Lord knew she was needed and loved. Sadly, though, I remember getting a message from her telling me her sister had succeeded in her attempt. The devastation was beyond my comprehension.

The Pain in her Voice, I Still Remember

She still lights candles for her sister. She talks about suicide awareness because she wants to spare another family from dealing with what she has been through with her sister. I cannot imagine what she still goes through to this day. What her parents go through. That hole never heals. Again, this generational curse can be broken. Praying the blood of Jesus to break this, and He will. Seek help, start meds, get into therapy, talk to a friend, and reach out. You could be saving a life.

 

 

Depression, Medical Issues, Suicide Awareness and Prevention

Suicide Amongst the Elderly

Barefoot Faith Journey

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Suicide Amongst the Elderly

 

Suicide Among the Elderly is a severe problem. Although the elderly (age 65 and older) comprise about 13% of the U.S. population, they account for over 18% of all suicides.

The most common cause of elderly suicide, as for all suicides, is untreated depression. Thus, elderly depression needs to be recognized and treated. And about one-third of the seniors who are 65 or older experience depression.

Depression

Some believe that depression is a normal part of being elderly, which is entirely untrue. Depression is not normal for people of any age. Elderly people with depression have a chemical imbalance in their brains. And that chemical imbalance is prevalent and highly treatable.

However, an elderly person who exhibits symptoms of depression must receive a thorough physical exam from a medical doctor to determine if there is a biological basis for the depression. Some physical conditions and the use of some medications may cause symptoms of depression.

The following disease and physical problems may cause symptoms of depression:

    • thyroid disorders
    • diabetes
    • Parkinson’s disease
    • multiple sclerosis
    • strokes
    • tumors
    • some viral infections

 

The following medications may cause symptoms of depression:

 

    • blood pressure medication
    • arthritis medication
    • hormones
    • steriods

 

Kevin Caruso has so many resources and helps on his website. My Lady struggled so badly after her first round of TIA’s and her stroke. When her keys were taken away, it was devastating to her. I remember that she found them and drove to my house. I was homeschooling my kids, and she came honking in my driveway. She said she was fine and wanted to prove that she could do it. Well, drive she did, she came to me and then went home. Luckily, we didn’t live far apart.

Depression Set In

Her depression set in because she knew that that part of her life was over. Her Jerome had gone to be with Jesus, and now she couldn’t drive. My heart sank. I spent every day with her because I loved her, and I couldn’t stand to see that sadness.

Please, check on your elderly neighbors. Take food, offer to run an errand, sit and glean from their wisdom. It is so worth it. My life is better because she was in it. I adored her. She stays a part of me every day. My dad went through this, as well. I can see where they feel like a burden to other people. Remind them that they are not a burden and loved beyond measure.

Statistics

According to the AAFMT Website, “In 2002, the annual suicide rate for persons over the age of 65 was over 15 per 100,000 individuals; this number increases for those aged 75 to 84, with over 17 suicide deaths per every 100,000. The number rises even higher for those over age 85. Further, elder suicide may be under-reported by 40% or more.”

Resources

If you or someone you know is being abused, PLEASE reach out.

ChildHelp Hotline

National Domestic Violence Hotline

Suicide Prevention Lifeline