Tag: healing

Faith Journey

Setting Boundaries VS Putting Up Walls

Barefoot Faith Journey

Setting Boundaries VS Putting Up Walls

Setting Boundaries VS Putting Up Walls

Setting Boundaries VS Putting Up walls is something I struggle with because I sometimes live in fear. I am choosing not to live in fear because fear is a liar. Honestly, I am so tired of living under the judgment of others. Let me tell you something, friends, oh my word. I’m fixing to use my words and all of them. My words may not be pretty, but sometimes you must let it out.

I will have to take a few minutes and watch a Chopped episode. My brain moves faster than my fingers, and the emotions are strong. Let’s say I am completely and totally over it. A change is coming, and it may take till Jesus returns, but I am done!

Let’s Try This Again

I am not a people person. Yet, I’m empathetic (so I’ve been told), and I have the heart to help others. Those people who are unseen. People that other people snub their noses at because they don’t dress/live/act “appropriately.” I’m just saying that those are my people. I see them, I feel them, I understand them.

Their problems, I feel deep within my soul. The look in their eyes can tell a thousand stories, and they want to share that story. They want to be loved, accepted, and NOT judged. I CHOOSE to love, take, and not pass judgment on them. Honestly, I want to meet them where they are currently and walk into their world. It is an honor to step into their stories.

Hard Realization

What a brutal realization that most people in this world do not think the same way. I just don’t get it. How can you not love and SEE the people around you? The unseen, the less than, the “you are not in my circle. Therefore, you do not exist” people.

For the love of all that is holy, Jesus’ second greatest commandment is to LOVE OTHERS. Matthew 22: 36-40 clearly states, “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” Jesus replied: ‘ Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. The first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.’

The Things That Have Happened

I cannot and will not detail the struggles we have had this summer. It has hit me hard that not everyone thinks like this. Love as Jesus says to love. What they want is to steal, kill, and destroy my joy. My joy is my family. They are all I think of and commit to 100% every minute of every day.

So Much Loss and Pain

The loss and pain were entirely preventable. Let’s try something radical. If you think something is wrong with a friend or their family, then TALK TO THEM. Ask how you can help them, pray for them without details, and listen to their cry. Clean their house, run an errand, cook a meal. Be the hands and feet of Jesus.

Radical, you think?

Outcome

Well, our outcome has been standing on Exodus 14:14 “The Lord will fight your battle. You have to be quiet.” I was quiet. There were lots of tears, lots of reflection. There was a period of hiding, a valley of severe depression and anxiety, another medical condition for a child due to the STRESS so-called “friends” put us through. Thank you for that, honestly. It’s been the most fun.

My Oak

This woman. She blew in like a whirlwind. Then, she ironed out all the people in my house. Next, she found me. With that hug, I melted into her arm. I felt her love permeate every single molecule of my body.

She gently walked me upstairs, and we both lay down and talked. I cried, and she sat in silence and rubbed my hair like when I was a little girl. She permitted me to wallow for a day, but tomorrow I have to get up and wash my face and face the day. There will be no hiding for her little girl.

She loves me. Unconditionally. She sees me. Truthfully. She knows all that has happened, yet she loves those who hurt her baby so profoundly. My kids will be blessed if I am 1/2 the mama she is when I grow up. She blesses me.

A Few True Friends

We discovered those who would stand by us and those who judge us. Prayer warriors surrounded us and kept us safe. We stood before God clean. Our family came out on the other side with no truth coming from the claims and lies.

For Now

I choose self-care. Pet a cat (or 12), bake, eat candy, smile more, block people on social media, keep loving on the “less of these” people, wash my hands, wear a mask, parent my kids, love my husband, and love my God. My enemies cannot hurt me because God goes before me, after me, and stands on each side of me. If you want to get to my family or me, you must go through Him first.

Good luck to you.

 

 

 

Depression, Faith Journey, Medical Issues, Opsoclonus Myoclonus Syndrome

A Breakthrough of Letting Go

Barefoot Faith Journey

A Breakthrough of Letting Go

A Breakthrough of Letting Go

Sometimes I don’t even realize I’m trying to control a situation. For a year (or more), the Lord has not moved. 

Then I sit back, and I reflect.

I think about all the phone calls, the late nights researching, the bookmarks I’ve saved, the groups I have stalked, the tests I have read and reread…..but…

Where was my Jesus?

I realized: ~ that my depression was stronger ~my prayer life had waned ~my mood was somber ~my temper was short ~my resolve was shorter ~my study life was nonexistent ~my relationships were strained, and ~my desire to go to church was void.

On June 17, 2018, I found Jesus again.

I say that knowing that I have always had Jesus. He has never left me or forsaken me. Today, He imprinted on me. He gently turned my head back around to face Him. I allowed things to happen that I would generally never let out of fear.

Fear has no place anymore.

As I wheeled my son in church, late, past 1044 people (not really, but it seemed like a lot when your baby is in a wheelchair), I kept my head down. I tried not to make eye contact with anyone. If I did, I would melt into a puddle of tears.

Then I turned around.

There stood friend #1, and before I knew it, friend #2 walked up. There was a brief moment where I explained a few things. Then I had to walk away because I was fixing to lose it. In no way did I want to release that control and let anyone see me cry. From the hallway, I hurried back into the sanctuary, and we were in the middle of worship.

I couldn’t even open my mouth or my eyes.

I just stood there, in the pew, with my head down. There were no thoughts in my head. At that moment, I was trying hard not to cry because I was with my children. I found myself walking to the altar to pray when they began another song. My feet were moving without the permission of my mind. I knelt, and still, there were no words in my head out of my mouth. I just sat there and absorbed the music.

Mamoo

As I was praying, I felt a hand, and I looked over, and Ms. Mamoo was praying over me. She is the most eccentric woman I have ever met. She is stunning with bright blonde and pink hair. Her legs are to die for, and she is about 86 years old. There is a strength in her. She kept telling me to “hold on,” that healing would happen and that I needed to hold on to that statement. I felt my body release. Then, I heard these sounds that thinking back, was me moaning in an animalistic way.

The music stopped.

I hurried through a door to gather myself, alone for a moment. I walked around the corner to check on H. He was beginning to melt down because he could not pick up a whale snack. He kept dropping it and shaking. As I went in to help him, the ladies said there was a man at the door that wanted to speak to me.

I have never seen him before.

This man was emotional, and he asked me to bear with him. He said he saw me wheel my son past him. He felt the Lord leading him to pray over him, and at that moment, he asked permission to do so. I went back into the room and scooped H up. In his next request, he asked me if he could hold H. I was okay with it; strangely, so was H. H was completely at ease with this man.

His prayer

What a beautiful healing prayer this man prayed over my son in the church hallway. I will never remember all the words he said. I do remember the stillness of H. The electricity in that little huddle, the tears that this man and I shed. I was humbled.

Faith.

Our sermon was on faith and how you must tie a knot at the end of the last thread, you are hanging onto. You must trust that you will land on Jesus’ hand if you slip. This sermon was exactly what I’ve been battling with for the last month or so. Jesus has been working on me to have faith. To stand strong, to release control because He knew H before He created the earth. He knew who would carry him, and He knew who was going to raise him. God knew that H would go through this. He already has the perfect provision if I get out of the way and stop controlling the situation.

In the end

I went to get my son. H was gently placed in his chair, and I wheeled him into the sanctuary. Looking up, I saw Richie, our pastor, and before I knew what I was doing, I wheeled him up to the altar. The Lord gave me another huge chunk of my rainbow at that moment. As I looked up, people from all over the sanctuary came forward to lay hands on H, Bart, and me. Mamoo anointed him with oil as she prayed.

There stood men and women of all ages and children. I could hear a gentle roar of prayers being spoken over our son. In the midst of that, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was a familiar hand, with a familiar smell and a slight tremor. Ms. Jan, through the crowd, touched me. I never saw her face. I just felt the warmth of her hand, and I could hone in on her voice. H never moved. He never cried. He just sat there and took it all in.

 

Medical Issues, Opsoclonus Myoclonus Syndrome

The Lost Art of Effective Doctor’s

Barefoot Faith Journey

The Lost Art of Effective Doctor's

The Lost Art of Effective Doctor’s

The Lost Art of Effective Doctors. I always go into an office with new hopes and new challenges. I hope I take my kid into the office and get something valid. Anything, really, as long as it is a concrete diagnosis. One child went to seven hospitals to finally land a final diagnosis. Another child has had a slew of issues. Sadly, life is not much different after almost a year. We have seen four doctors in two hospitals, and have been about eight things. It’s super fun to be talked AT and not talked TOO.

The Crystal Vase

I am listening to Broken Vessels by Hillsong right now, and it is striking a chord within me. So many days, I feel like a shattered piece of glass. Once, I was a beautiful crystal vase. There was a purpose for my existence. I held water and beautiful flowers and made people happy. Over the last 5 or 6 years, my beautiful crystal self has been shattered and is in a million pieces. Some pieces are large enough to glue together, though the cracks still show. The rest is just dust. You can’t put dust back together.

That analogy is one I hold close to my heart and I think of often. It comes from a movie, Joshua. Joshua is an old movie, but it is important in my life. Man cannot take the shards and dust of my former self. Yet God can handle all of those shards. He can craft something unique and different. This creation has a purpose and is worthy of being displayed.

Man, I am struggling tonight.

I have to drive to Louisville tomorrow with my sixth child. We are going to Norton’s Hospital to see if we can figure out what is wrong with him. I have PTSD with this drive, the hospital, and the doctors. Sadly, it is hard for me to explain.

That is the 3rd place we took my 7th child to when he was finally diagnosed with Opsoclonus Myoclonus Syndrome. It has been three years, and it feels like yesterday to me. I can recite that first year like I am reading a book. It was so traumatic. Hearing the words “take your son home until he succumbs” haunts me.

So, tomorrow, I have to look down the barrel of that gun again with another child. The anxiety floods me by waiting, wondering, listening, and being talked to instead of being talked with. I feel like my vase is being shattered all over again.

I am Overwhelmed with Fear

Being alone, feeling as if I’m navigating this all by myself. I am harboring feelings of hurt that my husband wasn’t with me though I know he had to be here to take care of our other children back then. Logically, I know that. Yet, that anger is still within me.

Anger is secondary to fear and/or sadness. I fear allowing myself to be vulnerable or showing too much emotion. Honestly, I am afraid of asking the wrong things, feeling stupid by the “professional” doctors, and seeing that one that said my other son would die. Sadness. I feel sad because I do not want to have another child with another “super rare” thing.

I know that Fear is a Liar.

For real, I have the shirt that says that. Hahaha, I’m listening to praise and worship on Youtube while writing this piece.  Fear is a Liar just came on the channel. Wow. Just wow. Yet, here’s the thing. We have been to see one doctor for his sleeping issues. We got there and did EEG, MRI, Sleep studies, bloodwork, etc. He was diagnosed with Idiopathic Hypersomnia.

In checking him for Transient Alteration of Reality, this doctor “accidentally” stumbled on Epilepsy. So then, he was diagnosed with Generalized Epilepsy with Gelastic Seizures and Absence seizures. He referred us to another neuro that works with teens for his Epilepsy. This same doctor would handle Idiopathic Hypersomnia. The doctors did nothing else. There was no education on anything.  

Doctor #2

We got to the other doctor and did more bloodwork and another EEG. That showed that he constantly had seizure-like bursts. So he changed the diagnosis to Juvenile Myoclonic Epilepsy with Gelastic Seizures, Grand Mal Seizures, and Absence Seizures. Prescribed meds. No education, wait.

The first doctor “treats” him for IH but, in reality, does nothing. I mean, quite literally, nothing.

The grand mal seizures began.

Not fun.

ER visits. No help.

Phone calls. No answers.

Emails. No responses.

Got a second opinion.

She said everything we were told was wrong.

Alrighty then. The nurse practitioner spent 1.5 hrs with us. Now, we have information overload.

She throws around words like ESES, LKS, CSWS, and our heads are spinning.

“Get a medical id bracelet. You will need to cook with a buddy. Put the pans on the back burner, do not swim alone, do not climb a ladder. When bathing, tell someone and keep the door unlocked. Driving may be an issue. This may not go away we may have to take the magnet out of his head, ….”

Uhm, okay.

His new diagnosis is Generalized Epilepsy with Grand Mal Seizures. He does not have IH or Narcolepsy.

“Can you wake him up when he falls asleep?” Uhm, no. It usually leads to an extended episode where he makes funny noises, fists, and stiffens his body. “Oh, those are grand mal seizures without the convulsions.” Oh, well, okay then.

“Violent episodes where he seems possessed and looks different?” Yes. “Oh, that is a seizure.”

“Moody? Hysteria, tears, angry for no reason?” Yes. “Oh, those are seizures.”

“School…is he delayed in Language and Math?” Yes. “Yep, part of it.”

“Deaf?” Yes, in his right ear. “Also part of it.”

UPDATE to say that what he was experiencing with the sleep episodes are not seizures. They are called Functional Neurological Disorders. A blog post is coming soon about that.

I am OVERWHELMED.

Going back to this hospital that sentenced my baby to death (yet he is fine now) and seeing all those same people make me so nervous. Our goal is to be home by Tuesday. Supposedly, we will not have to see that one doctor. We would not leave without a complete picture and plan. We shall see.

Thankful

I am thankful that we were able to get into the hospital. Also, the doctor I need to see is the one on call, which is a positive. I am prepared. Big Daddy cared for little things like snacks, fixing my tire, and filling up my tank. Also, I’m thankful I have therapy tomorrow because I will need to use my words. 

 

Adoption

How to Heal a Fractured Family

Barefoot Faith Journey

How to Heal a Fractured Family

How to Heal a Fractured Family

How to Heal a Fractured Family. The short, simple answer is to trust in Jesus. Yet, sometimes, that is hard for me. Our family has been fractured for a long time. There have been cracks here and there, but this year, it is different. I’m not going to lie; it has been a struggle. Since 2014, but even before then, due to some extenuating circumstances. I don’t want to discourage anyone from adoption, but there is so much more I know now than I did almost 14 years ago.

What You Need to Know

When people are in the process of adopting a child or children, it is an exciting thing. We do all the things that are required. You have to do background checks, have money in the bank, fundraisers, fingerprints (if international), and so on. We work hard on those dossiers. Our homes are spotless for our home study. We eagerly anticipate our referral or a picture. There are so many support groups where we talk about our discouragement of NOT getting a referral quickly enough.

What We DON’T Realize

Is that we are waiting for a family to fail in some way. If it is foster care, we are waiting for a family to abuse, neglect, or hurt a child or children so they will be placed in the system. Then we jump through all the hoops. For the next 17 out of 23 mths, we will wait for the termination of parental rights.

Or, if it is a newborn, we are waiting for a sweet birth mom to make the most difficult decision of her life. Her life will be altered forever by choosing the blessing of adoption. If international, we are waiting for a birth parent who may be dying, the child is starving, or some other tragedy that places them in an orphanage.

When you adopt a family member’s child, you are waiting for drugs, alcohol, abuse, neglect, or abandonment. There are other circumstances, too, but that was my circumstance for my son. You start looking at YOUR sister and think…she is my son’s aunt? Grandmother? Both?

The Dark Side

We are walking into the blackest chapter of our children’s lives. Our greatest joy as an adoptive family and what we worked so hard towards will come at our children’s most tremendous loss. Whether an infant or an older child, that loss will forever be embedded in their brain and heart. They are the only ones who have heard their mother’s heartbeat from the inside out, and your heart is not the same.

My heart aches because, in a perfect world, my kids would still be with their birth families. Succeeding, thriving, living, loving, and yet because of certain things, they are not there. They are with me. I am grateful. Indebted. I am forever changed because they grew in my heart, not under it!

They will always wonder what it would have been like if they had stayed with their nuclear family. They have been raised by their birth parents or in their birth country. Try explaining all of the things when they are older. It’s super fun, aka traumatic.

Getting It Straight

I do not regret any of my children. None of them. They are my joy, and I’m so thankful to God that He wove my family together beautifully and intricately.

But

Trauma is an awful thing. Plain and simple. Talk to ANY adoptive parents, and they will tell you the same thing. Trauma can come in all shapes and sizes. It can come with a list of diagnoses, and then there is “traumaversary” That leads to sabotage of all good things, behavior issues, confabulations, deceit, manipulation, and so much more.

My Family is No Different

We have, and continue to have, all of the above things and the “so much more” times a million. What started as one child exhibiting out-of-control behaviors due to FASD, PTSD, RAD, blah blah blah trickled down to other children. Another child was exhibiting similar yet different behaviors. Then, a third child goes above and beyond. Lastly, the fourth child struggles with anxiety and more.

It has wreaked havoc on my person. My husband, other children, and even my pets will lose hair when life is escalated in my home. Sadly, this usually occurs November-March and then in July-October; as I look at that typed out, it is from October-July. That gives us two mths trauma-free.

All the Things We Have Tried

We have done the things. Doctors, specialists, therapists, counselors, pastors, family, medication, no routines, homeschool, private, public; All. The. Things. One child, nothing has worked for that child. Another child, we hope, is in the process of healing. The third child is excited right now. The fourth child, we deal with it day by day.

I am exhausted. My husband is tired. Honestly, even the kids are tired. Mix all this crap with a pandemic and being in this house, and you have Funville. My underwear drawer no longer holds underwear. It is stocked FULL of candy. I wake up, in the morning, with a bag of snickers under my arm and wrappers everywhere.

There is a newfound love of Limeade Slushes. My teeth are going to rot out of my head. I have become a human GPS because I take LONG drives on roads I have never heard of or driven. My favorite pastime is driving to my neighbors and seeing if their pig is in the front yard. I cry; a lot.

Falling Apart

Sadly, I feel like my family is falling apart. That Scripture of satan lurking around the corner to devour my family is happening! Honestly, at warp speed. I have so many words. So much has happened that my fingers will not move as fast as my brain.

I am praying that this pandemic ends. I am praying for healing for my medically fragile children. Salvation for two of my kids. Wisdom with all of them. Healthy delivery for one (going to be a granny!) A healthy relationship for two kids. School to open for one. One to come home safely. Another is to stop making REALLY poor and dangerous choices.

I want my family to heal and to be whole. I want God to intervene and DO SOMETHING. Honestly, I am just ready for Jesus to come riding down on His white horse and take us all home. Home, where there is no sadness, no darkness, or pain. Just glory.

God is Bigger

I have to trust in that. Right. Yes, trust. The hardest thing for me to do is trust Him with my family. Maybe that, alone, needs to be my prayer. Lord, let me trust that You have plans to prosper and not harm my family. Help me realize that You and only You can heal the fractures.

 

Adoption, Life or Something Like It

An Apology Without Change is Manipulation

Barefoot Faith Journey

An Apology Without Change is Manipulation

An Apology Without Change is Manipulation

Gracious, this is such a reminder of what I live with daily. It is so hard when you have such consistent, horrible things said to you and then a fake apology. That is exactly what it is. Fake. I probably have done that, but I learned to be sincere with my apologies. When I do something wrong or hurt someone unintentionally, it hurts me so badly. An Apology Without Change is Manipulation. Simple as that.

It Was Not Her Fault

There was an issue with an acquaintance, and though that was the straw that broke the camel’s back, it was not her doing anything wrong. I was just emotional. Yet, this is one isolated instance. I was not manipulating her, and I was sincere in my apology.

Now for my family member, this is a different ball of wax. This member has many types of diagnoses. Part of me thinks that this individual cannot help it. They do something wrong, have a hollow apology, and then do the same thing 10 minutes later.

It is almost to the point where I don’t want an apology. I want this person to leave me the heck alone. Can we say BOUNDARIES? I do not have boundaries, but they certainly need to be established.

Kids with Reactive Attachment Disorder

They do this quite often. In this quote, kids with RAD are good at manipulation, Confabulation, and triangulation. According to Webster’s Dictionary, to manipulate means to control or play upon by artful, unfair, or insidious means, especially to one’s advantage.

Confabulation means filling in gaps in memory by fabrication. To “normal” people, this means to lie. Then triangulation means allying. In this situation, it is a child with one parent against another parent.

It is all exhausting and makes my brain work on overload. My boundaries had to be firmly placed, though they broke my heart into a million pieces. I had to take into consideration other family members and myself.

The stress was hurting all of us.

Life is Hard

The Lord did not promise us a walk in a rose garden. If we had that or all the answers, we would not need Him. He completes and sustains us even when we are physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted from creating those hard boundaries.

He gives us the wisdom we need when we seek it, to “speak” to us. For me, this is done through intuition, Scripture, other people, and dreams. I have learned to accept that my family member does not understand what it means not to manipulate and to be sincere in the apology.

It is hard. Completely and totally. Maybe one day, the Lord will heal her mind, body, and spirit to where she can function well in the world around her.

 

Depression, Medical Issues

Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing

Barefoot Faith Journey

Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing

 

Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing

 

Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing is something that I will be doing. After a couple of years of tackling acute trauma in my life, a decision came to pass. I have decided to move forward with Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR).  EMDR is a therapy that helps you process your trauma through eye movement. Sounds crazy, right?

 

When I Started Therapy

 

It was hard. I’m not going to lie. I told my therapist that I was there for only 52 days (read the book of Nehemiah, and you will understand that). There was one memory that I wanted to tackle amid EMDR. Sounds simple, huh.

 

I love therapy (my Master’s in Marriage and Family Therapy). The thought of being able to help someone through the muddy waters until it becomes clear running is my jam. I love seeing beauty come from ashes (Isaiah 61:3).

 

Yet, it is SUPER hard for me to be in the clients’ seat because I know all the logical things. I know what to tell myself. I know how to process items. I did not enjoy my time at all. I was the worst client in history of ever.

 

Sessions

 

We did the first session, and I freaking went somewhere I did not want to go. That was not my mission; that was not part of my 52-day plan. Not. At. All. I was so pissed when I left. In the next session, we did EMDR; I could not focus. I was already walled up because I did not want to go where I was the previous week. On the third visit, we did the DUMBEST grounding thing ever. I laughed hard because she was so serious, and it was not my jam. I assume she guessed that when I said, “this is the stupidest shit ever, and I’m not doing it anymore.”

 

Point taken.

 

Bless her heart.

 

I would have fired me as a client.

 

Co-Vid Hit

 

With that, we had to do virtual visits. Again, not my jam. I couldn’t focus because my kids were loud. I didn’t feel like I was in a safe place, and I couldn’t concentrate. It was hard. That therapist moved out of the office and took another job in another state (which had nothing to do with me, LOL).

 

They switched me to another counselor. I was set not to mesh with this lady because my mind was already made up. EMDR was stupid, not effective, my 52 days were up, no progress, and now I had to rehash everything with another person.

 

Not happy.

 

Getting to Know Her

 

My new therapist was my jam. We clicked immediately. She didn’t make horrific faces when I said things. It was easy. Comfortable. I’m so grateful to her and how she immediately made me feel so safe.

 

EMDR has yet to happen (next week), but our focus was on the MASSIVE acute trauma that I faced weekly. I kid you not; every week was a new trauma. I’m glad she could swim because she was deep in with me.

 

Complicated Party of 1

 

My life is very complicated, and so is my past. I’m very complicated. I’m an empath to the nth degree. There are so many things that I blame myself for, and I carry with me these notions that are not true.

 

We could not even address my past because my present was so tangled. My present was getting more and more knotted every single day. There were days that I couldn’t breathe. There were times when she was almost insistent that I go somewhere to get into patient care. That’s how bad I was.

 

I kept in close contact with my doctor (medication), pastor, my mom and sisters, and my fantastic husband. Without this support (especially my husband), I would not have made it. I still have bad days, but they are fewer and farther between them.

 

Addressing it All

 

Now, we are ready to dive into EMDR. Today was in preparation for next week, and let me tell you. It was hard as hell. The prep sucked. We are going to try and do EMDR through virtual visits. If that doesn’t work, we have a plan. I will drive to the center for one week to do EMDR in person. EMDR will be with another counselor. Then, I will process the next week with my regular counselor. I’m praying that the virtual does its thing and that I can break down the walls and mindsets that keep me captive.

 

Ending the Stigma of Mental Illness

 

I may write about my processing, as it helps me. Yet, I may not publish it, LOL. I may keep it private to protect those that still need protecting. Seriously, I can write on my blog and keep it private. I don’t know yet.

 

Today, I learned what a trigger was for me. What reality is and what lies I choose to believe. Now, we have to untangle that mass of lies. This is where we separate the lies from the truth and then live in the land of reality. Instead of it being a trigger, it will be a memory that does not affect me as it does now. Right now, it is crippling.

 

You are Not Alone

 

Please, if you struggle with mental illness, I want you to know something. You are NOT alone. You are normal. You matter. You deserve love. You are enough. Please seek help from a counselor, pastor, friend, or family member. Write, draw, drive around, get on medication, and get an emotional support animal. Do what you need to do to help yourself because you matter. 

 

As I move along this process, I will keep those who care or are curiously updated.

 

Book Processing

Connect and Redirect Technique

Barefoot Faith Journey

Connect and Redirect Technique

Connect and Redirect Technique

The Connect and Redirect Technique is referred to in the book the “Whole-Brain Child.” This technique is one that I hope to do (aka remember in a moment of chaos) with my children. This is where your left brain, right brain, and corpus callosum work together to create a relatable moment.  

The logic of your left side (that is the side I operate heavily off of) and the emotion of your right side (I’ve been told I’m emotionally stagnant) work together in harmony. “Denial of our emotions isn’t the only danger we face when we rely too heavily on our left brain. We can also become too literal, leaving us without a sense of perspective, where we miss the meaning that comes from putting things in context.”  

How My Parents Raised Us 

My parents, in my opinion, are pretty opposite in personality. Pop is the definition of emotionally stunted, and my Oak allows her feelings to be all over her person. We, kids, are a good mix between the two. I’m a lot like Pop in how I handle things. In the past, I would be considered pretty cold and emotionless. As I’ve aged, I’m coming into my feelings and allowing myself to feel emotions. It is strange to be in the moment and let it go.

Still, I keep my outward emotions more to myself than I do to show them to others, but I’m getting better. My Lady taught me about the concept of feeling and allowing myself to show emotion. When she had her first TIA, it rocked my world. That night, the doctor told us she would likely have a massive stroke and die. He had a procedure he wanted to do in hopes of deterring this impending stroke.

The Night That Changed Me

That night, her youngest son and I sat with her at the hospital. At about one in the morning, her son decided that he would head home. She was resting peacefully, and I was happy to stay on hospital patrol. At about 1:30 am, I was sitting by her bed, and out of the blue, she started singing old-fashioned hymns.  

That woman could sing, and it took me by surprise. She was wide awake and belting out some of the most beautiful hymns ever written. In the midst of it all, her nurse came flying into the room. She heard her singing from the nurse’s station. I looked at this sweet young girl, and she had tears. Stupid me, I thought she was moved by how my Lady sang. I was wrong. She was getting emotional because this was the moment the doctor was talking about earlier.

She was having a stroke and how it presented in her was through music. The brain is so astounding. I held her hand and sang with her. After she sat up, she looked at me with wide eyes and asked me if she was done raising me yet. I told her I didn’t feel like she was done. There was so much more for me to learn from her.

Ever so gently, she held my hand. She told me how strong I was and how far I had come in our journey together. My Lady told me how much she loved me, my husband, and our children. Then she talked about her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. She told me I would be okay and that she was so excited to see “her Jerome” and, of course, Jesus.

My Emotions Overcame Me

I cried. My Lady sang. The love she showed me that night is forever etched in my heart. Thankfully, she didn’t leave me that night. The doctor prevented it from taking her life by doing whatever procedure he did. At that moment, my right brain took over entirely. It was such a bizarre feeling for me. However, after that happened, I quickly went into my left brain, where I lived. My emotions were stuff, and I was prepared to call her family and give them a recounting of the events that had happened. I wanted to be strong for them and give them all the information. They loved her way more than me, and they deserved a well-put-together account of that evening. I did that. It felt like I was reading off of a paper.  

When my Doug showed back up, that was a different story. When Chelsea came, that was a different story. I have a bond with them that is different. They know me better than the rest of the family. I didn’t want to be a flake or not know the facts. That woman and Jerome produced some brilliant human beings who loved their Granny Jo very much.

As the Weeks Went By

My Lady would ask me to go over that night. In my mind, this was asked of me because she was having a stroke and didn’t remember. Your brain develops a type of amnesia when trauma occurs. I would busy myself with something mundane. Then, I would go over that night, never looking her in the eyes.  

Her eyes.

I would get to the part of her singing and skip everything that surrounded that moment. My story would always end up with how she survived, how loved she was, and how thankful I was that she was still with us. Left brain. Logic. No right brain. No emotion.

That irritated her. She would rewind and ask me to go over it again. I had to stop and tell her the part I skipped over this time. I had to do this while looking at her. Do you have any idea how hard that was for me?  

My right brain would sneak in, and I would feel the lump in my throat. Then, like a thief in the night, my right brain would take over. She finally stopped me and asked me why I did that. Why do I shut my emotions off?

Letting it All Go

I told her that if I started crying, I would never stop. We talked about my fear of her leaving me alone that night. She eased my soul and said that crying was God’s way of allowing us to heal from the inside out. It was healthy to cry. By golly, I was going to sit there and tell her that story, and I was going to cry. She had tissues in her hand.

I sat at her feet, with my head on her lap. For the first time, I told her the entire story from start to finish. I cried so much my face was swollen. She just stroked my hair and loved me through it. We went through this same thing day after day.  

What she didn’t realize that she was doing was the connect and redirect technique. She was taking a massive trauma out of my locked box and exposing it to light. She made me talk about it until it was filed appropriately in my brain. I can talk about it now. I do shed tears, but it is not all-consuming tears. I processed this night after many years.

God Moment

Wow, this was such a God moment recounting that and realizing that she taught me all the things I would need to know. I thought I was learning all of this stuff from books. Now, I know that through the love and wisdom of her, my parents, granny, and my few support people, I am equipped to parent differently.  

Wow.

I may need to eat my feelings.  

Adoption, Faith Journey

It is Time to Let Go and be Free

Barefoot Faith Journey
  1. It is Time to Let Go and be Free

It is Time to Let Go and be Free

What a phrase that is. Val Kilmer typed that to Tom Cruise in the new movie Maverick. I have been praying a lot. Primarily for clarity in a few situations that are ongoing in our family. God speaks in a variety of ways. I guess speaking through a film is one way to do it.  

At some point in my life, I have to stop torturing myself so much. It is constant. I torture myself daily. I am the kind of wife, mother, daughter, and sister that owns all the things. I question my motives, intentions, desires, and thoughts. Where things go wrong, regardless of who is at its root, I torture myself. Torturing myself has gone on for years. I can’t just let it roll off my back, it absorbs in my soul, and I wear the wrongs like a cloak.

I believe it is time to torture myself a little bit less. Today is a good day. I can believe everything I’m typing. Tomorrow may be different.

As I was floating in our pool, listening to H play, I thought of everything I “own.” Running through my list, I went through all our children, my siblings, parents, marriage, etc. Then, it hit me. 99% of what I torture myself about has nothing to do with me. I didn’t cause it, and I can’t fix it. Let’s jump back into our adoption years.

Life Just Isn’t Always so Tidy.

God’s plan isn’t always so easy to understand. Our first plan was international when we decided to expand our family through adoption. I knew Ethiopia was in our future at a young age. Yet God had other plans.  

He brought in our first set of kids for a season, reuniting them within about a month with their birth mom.  When the left, I thought I had done something wrong.

For some reason, I believed it was my fault that they returned to their mother. I was so young and inexperienced in foster care and adoption through the foster care system.

I know now that reunification is always the first thing to do, if possible. What a beautiful thing that they got to go back to the one that gave them life. It was a short season with her, but I know that they are safe and loved with the family they are with now. I can let that go. My love for those kids will always be powerful. Yet, God had other plans. Now, I can be happy and thankful I was a safe haven for them. They were loved by us and loved by so many people.

Release.

Sometimes Reunification is Not a Possibility.

When we got the call for our second set of kids, I allowed fear to creep into my heart. Sadly, I had not healed from the loss of the previous two children. Again, I wore a cloak and tortured myself for something that wasn’t mine to wear.  

Reunification was not in the cards for our second placement. We met these kids so full of tentative smiles and lots of hyperactivity. We were eager to expand our family. Yet, we tried to do everything right to reunify them with their birth mom. Sadly, that didn’t work, and trauma was prevalent.

Coming from Foster Care is a Tricky Thing

These kids were coming from multiple foster homes. Living in numerous homes was due to behavior, PTSD, and more. We were so ill-equipped to handle the needs of one of the children and we had no help or resources from the state.

Looking back, almost 16 years later, we see all the signs. Then, we just wanted to heal, love, and show this child Christ. One of my kids has written some powerful things about foster care and abuse. Those things are very well-spoken.

Now, this young person is someone I don’t even know. A lot of damage has been done, and bridges have been burned. However, my (our) love for this child will always remain steadfast, though we have to protect the other kids in our home.

I hope that one day, we can all be reunited. Forgiveness can take place, and healing can happen. Healing and forgiveness can only be orchestrated by the One that loves us all.

Right now, that isn’t what is going to happen. For years, I thought I was crazy. Hindsight is 20/20.

Now, I see where I was at fault, and I’ve apologized and made peace with it, for the most part. Again, I’m wearing a giant cloak that is not mine.  

I am not responsible for the decisions being made now. The things in the past I’ve owned, asked forgiveness for, and tried to remedy within myself. Sadly, I have no control over what is going on now. I pray that help is sought, proper medication, therapy, nutrition, sleep, and a lot of Jesus will permeate this child’s life.  

In my life, I choose to continue with therapy, confide in those closest to me, seek the face of Jesus, and prepare for rain. Preparing for rain looks different for everyone. In our case, we have cameras up, people who need to know are made aware of things, an attorney if things go in a way they shouldn’t, authorities are on alert, and documents are gathered. Preparing and doing these things are not indicative of anything other than protecting my other kids. My hope and prayer are still that the Lord reunites my whole family.

Release.

Things are Looking Up

Our pool is working, the air conditioning is cooking (though it is limping), we are all healthy, and great things are on the horizon. I have introduced my grandkids to music! Music is one thing that we missed in those years. We had to limit it due to some obsessions. Now, my home is flooded with music and dancing. My grands love opera! We listen to blues, the 60s, classical, praise and worship, old hymns, Frank Sinatra, and much more. Then there is J & D’s music. I’m not sure what you classify that as, LOL. It is so joyful and peaceful (most of the time).  

I have plants that are still alive. That is a fantastic thing! We are slowly redoing the things that need to be renovated in our house. Thankfully, I’m not obsessing over those little things. I’m reveling in the fact that we can and are making progress. H has made great strides and improvements with his OMS and behavior. J is thriving. D is succeeding, and his growth astounds me. Our relationship has improved a 1000%. We talk every night. I mean, honestly, what teenage boy wants to talk to his mom every night. Yet, he calls like clockwork, and we have the best conversations. My bigs are healthy, grandbabies are healthy, and my son is having an event in March. My parents are here often, and I love that so much.

Release.

In All the Thanks for the Above

I still miss my one. Still, I want that one here enjoying everything and being a part of our life. Yet, that isn’t going to happen right now. It can happen, and I pray that it will. For now, I continue to pray for healing. I revel in peace. Slowly, I take off the cloaks that are not mine. I’m giving them back to whom they belong while owning what I need to own. I’m prepared for the rain. I am not afraid. We are good, safe, loved, and healthy.   

Release.

Quotes

When Feeling Angry Ask Yourself These Things

Barefoot Faith Journey

When Feeling Angry Ask Yourself These Things

Plans are a Good Thing

We have a current trigger that we are all aware of at the present moment. My goal tomorrow is to divulge that trigger to a few of this child’s therapists. Goal? I want to ensure they know what we are dealing with so that compassion, grace, and love can be present. Also, we are starting a new medication that might help (or make him worse; it’s 50/50).

Instead of this week, I’ve made arrangements for a friend to homeschool this child throughout the summer to help with the process of “catching up” in school before he starts his second first day of second grade.

Plans. We have them.

Behaviors

So, here are the questions presented to me. Let’s see if I can dissect them and determine my problem. I need to know how to address this problem with my therapist so I can not be in the way of my child’s healing. It is all so complicated. It’s a lot of information.

Let’s Break it Down.

  • What need is not being met?

A need not being met in him or me. In me, the need to be in control and control a situation. I should disengage, as my sister says. Ignore. Have appropriate discipline, if needed, and let my husband bear the child-rearing responsibilities.

This child (in my opinion) doesn’t feel heard. It feels like his feelings are validated. He is also a product of his environment before us. He has seen a lot of chaos with another child and has taken on that role. Nothing is said or done that is “fair” to him. He sits in the wrong seat, has the lousy cup, doesn’t want to do this, or doesn’t want to. Sadly, flatly refuse to make simple requests.

  • What boundary is being crossed?

The boundary from parent to child is just a simple lack of respect. There is no desire to listen. The limit might be that he wants what he wants, when and how he wants it done. That isn’t practical.

  • What do I wish to express at this moment?

I wish I had expressed understanding of the situation and corrected him accordingly. He wanted to say his desire to have a do-over and eat with everyone else. Have whatever he wants to eat, even if it is something I didn’t make.

  • How can I express myself in a way that will be authentic to who I am and not merely a reaction?

This quote about life, or rather this quote about anger, has me thinking. Sometimes, I can shake it off. Other times, I can let my husband deal with it and realize that I don’t have to be in every situation.

I first need to figure out who I am to express myself that is authentic to who I am. I know WHOSE I am but not who I am. Is that the same person? I don’t know. What I do know is that this heat is driving me insane. Having to pay for another unit whenever it arrives will be torture. I’m mad that the pool people have not been out or answered their phones.

This moment shall pass. It might pass like a kidney stone the size of Montana.

 

Faith Journey

Shame and Guilt Revelation

Barefoot Faith Journey

Shame and Guilt Revelation

 

Shame and Guilt Revelation

I was speaking to one of my daughters today. It was a rare moment for us to be alone with her. Typically, we talk like a mom and daughter talk. Today, I pushed it a bit further. We talked about everything, and then I posed a question. I asked her, “In your history, as far back as you can remember, regardless of who it is about because I won’t get mad or upset, what is your worst traumatic memory?”

The blood drained from her face as she quietly told me what it was. At that moment, she said she felt shame. Shame is feeling that YOU are not good enough. Guilt is when you do something bad. Shame = you are bad. Guilt = you did something bad.

In Christ, our shame is undone. She is a person who does not have shame because she has Christ in her. Guilt, yes, she had. She did do something terrible. It was a domino effect that we could pinpoint where it started. That is the beginning of healing.

Our Box of Shame

We all have a box of shame. Traumatic things happen. These are things that we don’t want to talk about ever. Because we don’t want to talk about it, we put it in our box and put a giant lock on it. We pray that box sits in the dark corner and shuts the hell up.

Then, we have a trigger. The trigger can cause a person to act irrationally, have potent emotions, and do things they would never do (or say). You can feel where your shame is being held in your body. It is different for everyone.

Dealing with shame has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. Now, I’m hyperfocused when I lose my crap. There are moments amid my chaotic moment when I think, “what is wrong with me? Why am I doing/saying these things?” Sometimes that thought process diffuses the situation, and sometimes it doesn’t. There are times when I need a timeout.

Overcoming Shame

Brene Brown has a shame and guilt TED Talk that I have listened to multiple times. I encourage you to listen to it because that is something that helped me understand the difference. As I stated above, shame and guilt are two different things. Shame is “I am a bad person,” and guilt is “I did something bad.”

As I was talking to my daughter, I told her that I had things in my past that had me engulfed in shame. When I think back on it, I get this rock feeling in my stomach. I then go further to think of the damage I have done and the situation’s outcome. So, if anything has happened, I blame myself for the entire future happenings in each of these. Does that make sense? So, shame has consumed me.

I didn’t share the details with my daughter because I’m not going to do that, but I did tell her how I felt and how that is more than guilt. It is shame. I was trying to encourage her to identify one thing that she feels shame about and teach her that it isn’t shame, but guilt. It is okay to feel guilty about something, but you can’t let it stir in you for too long.

My Goal in Helping Her Overcome Shame

My goal was to get her to take her “shame” box that is locked away and hidden, open it, and take one thing out. In that one thing, talk about it constantly. Write about it. Draw. Dissect it, find Scripture that helps you, and ask for forgiveness from God, yourself, and whoever was involved with you. Realize you don’t have to tell that person you are sorry physically. If you continue to talk about it (or write), eventually, you will be able to share your story without having those intense emotions, feelings of shame, and/or guilt, and you can distinguish between those two things.

Eventually, you will completely heal through the Lord’s guidance and grace. You will be able to take that one file from your shame box and have it fully processed and placed into your brain where it is no longer a “shame” feeling or a realization that it isn’t shame but a guilt feeling. It will soon just be a crappy life experience that no longer has power over you. It no longer consumes you.

There will be a point where you can identify those same emotions in someone else, and you can hold their hand while they find the beauty from their ashes. God uses your crappy life experiences to help someone else not live with those feelings of shame and guilt.

Her Box is Full. My Box is Full.

I explained that talking her story out (writing or drawing) takes power away from the enemy and allows her to heal. You can go back and learn from that experience and then help others.

I then flipped it back to my situation(s). As an adult, what I think of as intense shame for some problems when I was a young child, is horrific. Yet, because God doesn’t want me to do that (revelation), He placed a child in my home that did the same thing. When I discovered this, I scooped the child in my arms, and we rocked. We talked. This child talked. There was not one time I swirled her with shame or guilt. What I recognized was trauma. A severe trauma response to something that had occurred in that child’s life well before this child came to us.

Shaming or making this child feel guilty was not even on my horizon. I planned to find justice, alert other people, and get her into therapy. We did that, and justice was served. I never put two and two together until this conversation. There was not a moment I could correlate my experience with this child’s experience. They were different but the same. It’s hard to describe when I don’t share the details, which I’m not.

The Lord Intervened

He taught me to go back in time, like myself (a parent), and parent the child I was in those moments. Show her grace, love, mercy, and forgiveness. Remove the shame because shame can’t exist where Christ lives. Convert that to guilt but then discover the cause of that guilt. Then you can release that guilt.

I took that little girl version of me in situations where I previously felt shame, and I scooped her up and rocked her. We rocked and talked. She little girl me shared and disclosed, and adult me did what I needed to do. I did not consider her a shameful child or a child who should feel guilty. Immediately, I called who I needed to call in order to protect her and fight for her. There was an opportunity to say that she did nothing wrong and that those actions directly related to something else. It was something else that needed to be addressed, and she had no choice.

I immediately had a rush of emotions, a cleansing cry, and healing. This shame swirl that I’ve lived in for over 40 years is gone. Now, I have to address the other side of it. By doing that, I can further free myself from this and, in turn, help someone else in the same situation or mindset.

My goal was to help my daughter. I hope I did. In the end, however, I did help myself.