Emotional mush

I know this will come as a shock but my brain is pure mush lately. Emotional roller coasters are mush-inducing for the brain. The last couple weeks have been crazy. My Dad was sent to the hospital a couple weeks ago. Suspicious scans. He was having trouble seeing, trouble with depth perception, trouble with balance. No bueno. They tested and tested. It's not bacterial. Must be cancer. Maybe it's cancer. Yes. It is definitely some kind of cancer. Wait. We don't really know. Not sure. Let's do more tests. Oh, yes, it is cancer. I am devastated. dev. Uh. stated. distraught. Not put together. Undone. Oh wait. It is definitely not cancer. No idea what it is. So here we sit. His family. On the roller coaster of emotional distress. And dad. Enduring MRIs, spinal tap, and now a brain biopsy. Yes. Today they cut my Dad's skull open so they could look at his brain and snip some of it out to biopsy and test for all sorts of infection. Today I got up thinking that my Dad will probably die before they can figure out what is going on. But now.... We just got updated about thirty minutes ago. And the neurosurgeon said that the abscesses look like infection and that it is most likely treatable. Relief. Elation. Ecstatic. light as a feather. Oh look. optimism. There you are. I missed you. I have been wrapped up in a warm blanket of pity and grief. For over a week already. And it is exhausting. But guess what? What happens when you have a dump of adreneline? You come down. and down. and down. So currently I'm still "flying high" but soon I will be exhausted. Good news is exhausting. Bad news is exhausting. I'm longing for a little bit of boring. Boring is good. I'd take a whole lotta boring about now.

Becoming Unstoppable: the turn around

One caring adult. So many times I have seen this going around social media. I have always believed this and I have wanted to be that person for kids. But what about us? What about adults? This has been a dark and lonely highway this past year, and no cool wind came up. Just that hot Kansas wind that blows the heat around while not providing any relief. There I was. Lonely. Scorched. Desperate. My personal life spilling over to my professional life. So much  disarray. Feeling helpless. Continuing to try to stay with the times, to be relevant, to get my life and career back on track. But I am flailing. and failing. miserably. I think about a fish out of water trying to flop back into the pond, but it's really in the back of a pickup truck, so no amount of flopping will give it freedom. And the poor thing can't breathe. That's me. I'm flopping around and trying to save myself, not knowing that it isn't within my power. And then. One caring adult happened. One caring person... helping me to remember my "why." One caring person, helping me focus on keeping students academically on track. One caring adult, helping me decipher expectations that I can't seem to understand or translate into language that I do understand. So the truth is.... I might still lose my job.  But as I strive to get back to the teacher I once was....wait, to be honest and fair, once I get back on track, I will be a different teacher, not the old one. Once this change has a chance to take hold, I will be on the road to my one word: unstoppable. And no amount of hot July Kansas wind will be able to stop me. One caring adult = one teacher with fierce power and determination.

One Word 2020

So for the last few years I have been choosing a word, just one word. One word to strive for in the new year. But this last year, two years, have really beat me. I am down for the count. Discouraged, out of hope, feeling defeated. What's next? Whatever comes my way. I am down, but not dead. I am defeated today, but it won't last. Why? Because when you wake up at the very bottom of your life, with your hope gone, your ego deflated, your give-a-damn busted, there are not any other places to go.  It's dark and it's cold and it's uncomfortable at the bottom. It's dank. Not a place you can effectively wrap up in your warm blanket and hide from the world in. And you can see the light, you just can't reach it. So you have to get up. Move. Throw yourself up the wall and try to reach the ledge. You cannot stay in one place and find any warmth for your soul. So you move. Therefore, my word this year is unstoppable. Not in a confident, egotistical way, but in a, I-keep-falling-down-but-I-am-not-dead-yet kind of way. Here I go. I will just keep going. Even if it is at a snail's pace. I will not stop. Because I can go up from here or forward into the ever-expanding darkness, but I cannot stop. I will be unstoppable this year.

Past the Edge of Despair

Today I am waxing reflective. Of course. This year is drawing to a close. And I am so grateful. Good bye and good riddance. Adios 2019. Part of writing a new post includes looking at what I posted last. It's a good post actually. And only a few who read it, got it. Because as much as I talked about stinky stuff (aka... shit), I know there's hope. Hope in the light coming on. Light bulb moments are filled with hope. Because without them, the darkness is overwhelmingly dark.

This has certainly been a year. A year I'd just as soon not see again. All of my kids were plagued by their acute depressive disorder. And I nearly lost one of them. The job was, well, just a job. And since I am a teacher, there is no effective way to do the job when it is just a job. It is too big. Too fierce. Too full of passion. Too thankless. Too structured. Too regimented. Oh. Yeah. The big push, my passion, at my job, is this: trauma-responsive classroom for traumatized kids. Well, for all kids. Trauma-informed/sensitive/responsive practices benefit all kids. Oh. And adults as well. Because if adults are living a calm, regulated life, their kids most likely will be doing the same. But I have lived in perpetual crisis since October of 2017. This is when my daughter left traditional school. This is when I found out how my district supports it's teachers. This is when I realized that talking the talk and walking the walk are vastly different things. This is when I knew that if I left my depressed 8th grader in public school, she would die. Probably at her own hand. And sooner, rather than later. This is when I started down a slippery slope of too much mental clutter to function effectively in ways that benefit my home life or my career. This is when I found out how truly helpless I really am. My world began unraveling. And it has continued doing so for the past 2 years. What have I gained for my high levels of stress and toxicity? More stress. A perpetual cycle of not being available to parent my very high needs kid, which leads to more guilt, which leads to more exhaustion, which leads to brain fog (don't laugh, it's a real thing), which leads to less ability to function in any capacity, which leads to knowing I am a failure at parenting, adulting and teaching. Which leads to me pondering the effectiveness of driving off a bridge or into an on-coming semi. To which I say, where now is the hope? The hope of ending family crisis and career burnout? Where is the hope that all this time, energy, fatigue and effort being poured into my kid will pay off? How will she effectively fight her suicidal tendencies if her mom leaves her in the same fashion? This leads to more hopelessness and more fog and more cortisol being released and more perpetual crisis.

If you read this in the fashion that it was penned (okay, well, typed) then you are tired now. And out of breath. And that is my life. Bursts and breaks. It's not a literary accident or failure. It's true to life. My life.

I'm fairly certain that the light at the end of the tunnel has flickered with hope for the last time. It has been extinguished and I'm here, again, in the darkness. So if you read my last blog post and you were saddened by my sadness, realize that sadness paired with hope is still hopeful. Sadness paired with despair is a completely different beast. And this is the time it is appropriate to worry. To know that a soul who feels only the burden of their shortcomings and no hope for a real change or a brighter future, that is a soul on the brink. The brink of a disaster that is too huge to even fathom. Because it will be buried. In more societal shame and secrecy. And more baggage and societal norms and aches will be placed on my children in their "healing" process, leading to more trauma, more disconnectedness and the cycle will repeat. Again, and again, and again.

Today, I got up to try and pull myself out of the hole I am in, and realized that it's cold and dark down here, and I don't have the energy to climb. And without some form of light, I have no reason to try. To scratch at the walls of dark, cold, despair. Today I am beyond the edge of despair. Today despair is wrapped around me like a warm blanket.  without the warmth. Just cold. and dark.

Suvival is not for the weak

I am a survivor. Of abuse as a child, emotional and mental and occasionally physical abuse as an adult. Of self-sabotage. Of self-hatred. Of anger and rage. Of addiction. Of taking my rage out on others. Of perfectionism.

I wish that were enough. To survive. To struggle until something changes. But it's not enough for me. I want to thrive. I want vibrancy and resilience and happiness. I want to learn to trust again. To love. To believe in the good of others.

Some of this is happening. I have some intimate friends that I can trust and love and who love me in spite of the fact that they KNOW me. Because the friends who love me BECAUSE they know me, they don't KNOW me.

If you look into my soul, there's blackness and deep seated anger and pain. Indescribable pain. Pain of living in a family system that is toxic and sick. I have read a book before called "Shame on You" and the family dynamic in it, is similar to mine. There is a black sheep and it is the responsibility of the black sheep to carry the dysfunction of the family. He/she is labeled the toxic one. The crazy one. The one who fractures the family.

But the reality is that the family couldn't have a black sheep unless it is already fractured, broken, dysfunctional in nature.

As I sit here typing this my stomach ties in knots. Not only is it uncomfortable to sit in this pain, but talking/typing about it, could very easily result in more pain. More resentment toward me, the one who constantly breaks apart the family. Recently I have been repairing a relationship with my sister. And it has been pointed out to me that I'm the one who consistently stirs the shit pot. And I'm certain there's an element of truth to that. For one thing, to effectively drive a person crazy or to gas light effectively, there needs to be a subtlety to any and all accusations, the lie must be buried in a fair amount of truth and/or facts. It's not a secret to me that I can be manipulative and twist reality to match my needs. What is generally a secret to me is when I am doing it, and when I am aware I am doing it, how to stop. There are some specific behaviors that happen when I'm called out for bad behaviors, and even though I know they are part of the fight, flight, freeze response for me, I cannot seem to think my way through them to a different response. Which leads to sabotage. Sabotage of relationships, jobs, family, networks.

Of course, the more I know about the brain and trauma, the more I know that there is no thinking when I am in the survival part of the my brain. As I sit here stewing in this, and yes, it is stinky to sit in, answers and solutions come to me "out of the blue." What do I do with kids? Practice. Practice appropriate responses when they are not in survival. Practice so it becomes second nature. *light bulb*

Okay, so as I sat here, in misery, not avoiding that ideas that 1) I live with a heavy responsibility to keep my family's focus off of their own dysfunction, and that 2) I do this very well, and as an adult, only I am responsible for my actions and for real change in my life; I have had a light bulb moment. It could very easily be a small light, a 4-watt-nightlight-bulb kind of light, but it feels big right now. It feels like stadium lights came on at the football game. It's time to process this and most importantly, practice. Practice new, calm, rational behaviors when I am not in crisis.
  

Enveloped in Silence

We are enveloped in snow.  I sit here in my pj's enjoying my snow day. I find snow to be majestic and powerful.

Silent Majesty

Snow....
Today
I love you
snow.
Today
I am in awe
of your silent power.
I love your
whisper voice
that roars out
into the night time
and now it glistens
in the daytime.
Today I love you
snow. 

One Little Word. Or is it? Little? In with 2019.

What one little word might sum up my hopes and dreams for 2019? Last year I chose free. And yet I was bogged down by circumstance and pressures around me that I could not control. I did not truly let them go or experience true freedom. But it's a great word. And this year's word will be very similar. Because I finally believe that I am worth it. To be free. Not to be held hostage by my upbringing, my past, myself.

This year's word is not little, it is simple. It's GRACE. Grace for myself, grace for my mistakes, those ingrained habits that I hate, the people around me, the little people that I teach. Grace for my children. Grace for idiots on the highways. Because giving grace away automatically extends it to myself. It also transforms people. Once I give grace to other drivers, they are no longer idiots, but people, who like me, make mistakes, mis-judge things, get in a hurry, etc. They become human. I believe this is true in all circumstances. Once I extend grace to my own children, I have allowed them to fail and pick themselves up and be the amazing people that they are.... human people, flawed people. People who try as hard as they know how and are not perfect. This gives them freedom to become. to change. to live their lives as fully as God intended.

Grace. 

It's a good word. Bring it on universe. 2019 here I come!