Holidays tend to bring out the worst in me. I would love nothing more than to write a sad epistle about how cheerless and mournful this Thanksgiving is. After all, I'm divorced, my mother and grandmothers are gone, one grandfather is gone, the other is distant, and I don't get to see my nephew. That's a lot to be depressed about. Instead, I am resolved to write something positive and count my blessings.
I'm thankful that even though I'm divorced, I'm alive. Many women who are abused - verbally, emotionally, or physically - never make it out of the relationship alive.
I'm thankful that even though I don't have my own place because I'm waiting for my house in Detroit to sell - not the best market to be selling right now - my dad and his wife care enough to make sure that I'm not homeless, that I'm warm and safe.
I'm thankful that even though both of my jobs make me a little crazy sometimes, that I am blessed with employment when many are struggling to find work and wondering, not only how to afford Christmas gifts for their children, but how to feed those little mouths today.
I'm thankful every month when I make my car payment, every day that I get in and turn the key that I have a nice car to drive and don't have to worry about how I'm going to get to work.
I'm thankful that my job provides insurance and that I've found a wonderful, godly, prayerful doctor who is helping me be the healthiest I can be when many people die every year because they can't afford the medical care they desperately need.
I'm thankful for family and friends who love me even though we may fight, even though we may not see each other as often as we'd like; there are so many who are completely and utterly alone in this world.
I'm thankful that I know God and how much He loves me. Some people die without every knowing the love and peace that God gives.
There are many, many more, but I think I will go and enjoy my blessings instead of sitting here writing about them.
Happy Thanksgiving to all!
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Monday, November 9, 2009
I can see clearly now....
I remember the day that I got my first pair of glasses. As I recall, my mother laughed quite hysterically at me that day. I didn't think I even needed glasses. I could read everything just fine. I wasn't getting headaches. The doctor, however, insisted that I had a thing called astigmatism. It wasn't that my vision was blurry as much as it was askew. We left the doctor's office with me still insisting to my mother that those glasses were completely unnecessary, that I could see perfectly without them and that the trained medical professional did not, in fact, know better than an 11 year old child.
But as we drove home, I began to take the glasses off to compare my vision with and without them and I discovered something. I had been compensating for something I didn't even know was wrong. When I took my glasses off, suddenly everything leaned a little to the left and wasn't in crisp focus. That's when I noticed something else - I had developed a habit of leaning my head to the right, which made everything look the way that it should.
It's an odd feeling realizing that what you thought was right and normal isn't at all. Today was another of those days.
Some of you may know this about me. Those of you who don't probably won't be particularly surprised by it. I have dealt with depression as long as I can remember. As a teenager, I stayed home in my room reading or practicing music to escape from reality. Those were the only times I was alone that I didn't feel like crying. I didn't have anything to be that sad about. Life was good. I made good grades, had lots of friends, had a family who loved me. It wasn't until years later that I learned that my mother and both of my grandmothers had similar issues.
After my mother died, things became much, much worse. Before that, I had been able to compensate and hide my problem from nearly everyone. I still didn't know there was a problem. When that's all you've known, it feels normal. You just deal with it. But that was my breaking point. It was just more than I could deal with and I completely broke inside. Eventually, I moved on with life enough to get married and make a life for our family.
Even though things were good for a little while, sooner or later the struggles had to begin. I had never been married before and every relationship I have is wrought with drama and tension. That's normal, right? Again, tilting my head, compensating for a problem I haven't yet discovered.
When I arrived in Pennsylvania a year ago, I did not recognize the person I had become. The girl who once chased down kids fleeing her hotel to avoid being arrested after she broke up the fight (not one of my smarter moments, but an entertaining story nonetheless), was now afraid to leave the house and afraid to be in her own house, startled by every noise, believing that he was coming back to get her. I had adjusted to not sleeping, and when I did sleep, waking with every muscle aching because even in slumber I was tensed and ready to flee. No matter where I was in the house, I had my phone and car keys in my pocket ready to run. That had become my normal.
After a year of being here protected by my dad, I've finally accepted that he's not coming to get me, that I'm safe. With that resolved, I've moved on to fixing other aspects of my life. Some take longer to resolve than others; it's a work in progress. My latest project is my health. Several issues I've been ignoring - none of which I will bore you with - I am finally facing head on. I have accepted that I will probably be on medication for the rest of my life. My body does not produce the correct balance of chemicals to operate properly. Despite what I was taught growing up, that does not mean that I am not close enough to God or that the devil is after me and holding me down or that I'm crazy. Diabetics aren't crazy because their insulin production is incorrect; the other chemicals of the body are no different. So I'm seeing my doctor regularly and getting everything in balance. (Wow, that last sentence sounds like a prescription commercial.) This is good...or is it?
When I woke up this morning, much too early for a day off, I knew something was different. I didn't feel the same, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I proceeded through my day, mentally checking off my to do list. All the while, that nagging thought is in the back of my mind that something is wrong. Suddenly, I realize what it is. I don't feel sad. I don't feel sick. I feel happy and healthy. It had been such a long time - if ever - that I had felt like this, that I didn't even recognize it. Feeling tired and melancholy had become my normal. I thought that's how I was supposed to feel, how I would feel for my whole life. Little did I know that things aren't always that way. God has blessed me with a wonderful doctor who always prays with me and exercises wisdom in treating the whole person, not just symptoms on a chart.
It's going to be an adjustment, this new perception of life. It's hard to accept that the world hasn't changed, only the way that I see it.
Lord, please help me learn how to be happy and content. I'm not used to that and it still feels strange. Teach me to stop struggling and to just rest in You. Life doesn't have to be hard. Overwhelm me with Your peace! Amen.
But as we drove home, I began to take the glasses off to compare my vision with and without them and I discovered something. I had been compensating for something I didn't even know was wrong. When I took my glasses off, suddenly everything leaned a little to the left and wasn't in crisp focus. That's when I noticed something else - I had developed a habit of leaning my head to the right, which made everything look the way that it should.
It's an odd feeling realizing that what you thought was right and normal isn't at all. Today was another of those days.
Some of you may know this about me. Those of you who don't probably won't be particularly surprised by it. I have dealt with depression as long as I can remember. As a teenager, I stayed home in my room reading or practicing music to escape from reality. Those were the only times I was alone that I didn't feel like crying. I didn't have anything to be that sad about. Life was good. I made good grades, had lots of friends, had a family who loved me. It wasn't until years later that I learned that my mother and both of my grandmothers had similar issues.
After my mother died, things became much, much worse. Before that, I had been able to compensate and hide my problem from nearly everyone. I still didn't know there was a problem. When that's all you've known, it feels normal. You just deal with it. But that was my breaking point. It was just more than I could deal with and I completely broke inside. Eventually, I moved on with life enough to get married and make a life for our family.
Even though things were good for a little while, sooner or later the struggles had to begin. I had never been married before and every relationship I have is wrought with drama and tension. That's normal, right? Again, tilting my head, compensating for a problem I haven't yet discovered.
When I arrived in Pennsylvania a year ago, I did not recognize the person I had become. The girl who once chased down kids fleeing her hotel to avoid being arrested after she broke up the fight (not one of my smarter moments, but an entertaining story nonetheless), was now afraid to leave the house and afraid to be in her own house, startled by every noise, believing that he was coming back to get her. I had adjusted to not sleeping, and when I did sleep, waking with every muscle aching because even in slumber I was tensed and ready to flee. No matter where I was in the house, I had my phone and car keys in my pocket ready to run. That had become my normal.
After a year of being here protected by my dad, I've finally accepted that he's not coming to get me, that I'm safe. With that resolved, I've moved on to fixing other aspects of my life. Some take longer to resolve than others; it's a work in progress. My latest project is my health. Several issues I've been ignoring - none of which I will bore you with - I am finally facing head on. I have accepted that I will probably be on medication for the rest of my life. My body does not produce the correct balance of chemicals to operate properly. Despite what I was taught growing up, that does not mean that I am not close enough to God or that the devil is after me and holding me down or that I'm crazy. Diabetics aren't crazy because their insulin production is incorrect; the other chemicals of the body are no different. So I'm seeing my doctor regularly and getting everything in balance. (Wow, that last sentence sounds like a prescription commercial.) This is good...or is it?
When I woke up this morning, much too early for a day off, I knew something was different. I didn't feel the same, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I proceeded through my day, mentally checking off my to do list. All the while, that nagging thought is in the back of my mind that something is wrong. Suddenly, I realize what it is. I don't feel sad. I don't feel sick. I feel happy and healthy. It had been such a long time - if ever - that I had felt like this, that I didn't even recognize it. Feeling tired and melancholy had become my normal. I thought that's how I was supposed to feel, how I would feel for my whole life. Little did I know that things aren't always that way. God has blessed me with a wonderful doctor who always prays with me and exercises wisdom in treating the whole person, not just symptoms on a chart.
It's going to be an adjustment, this new perception of life. It's hard to accept that the world hasn't changed, only the way that I see it.
Lord, please help me learn how to be happy and content. I'm not used to that and it still feels strange. Teach me to stop struggling and to just rest in You. Life doesn't have to be hard. Overwhelm me with Your peace! Amen.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Where did the time go?
Tomorrow is a very important mile marker in my life. Tomorrow will mark one year since the day that I filed the papers that would change the course of my life. 365 days ago I walked into an attorney's office and had to admit to him - and to myself - that my husband had left six weeks before and wasn't coming home. I sat there wishing the floor would open up below me so I didn't have to sit there feeling the shame and humiliation of that admission. Failure had become reality and there was nothing left to do but pick up the pieces and try to go on with life, all the while wishing I could just lay down and die.
My first choice was where I was going to go. I had no reason to stay in Michigan alone. Should I go back home to West Virginia and my old life as if nothing happened? Not possible. I could have gone home, but it would not have been the same and I would have been disappointed. So I ran to the only safe place I could think of - I came to stay with my dad. For those of you who know the story, you know that was not an easy decision. In the end, the benefits outweighed any doubts. Thus, I became a resident of the great state of Pennsylvania.
I know what you're thinking - she's a grown woman and she is running home to her dad. What the heck? I felt that way, too, but I had to swallow my pride and accept some help. My ex had left me with nothing, quite literally. He had forced me to quit my job, had taken all of our money, and had allowed the car that he bought me to be repossessed. I had nothing except my "stuff" and an appointment for a job interview.
Besides the help I needed with basic living expenses, I was an emotional train wreck. The years of berating and name calling and belittling had taken their toll - and he was still on the attack. So I did what every girl does when she's scared. I ran to my dad crying for him to protect me. I may be a grown woman, but I still know that when my dad is around, he's not going to let anything happen to me. I don't have the words to express my gratitude to him and his wife for taking me in this last year and giving me a place of rest and peace and healing. Dad has sheltered me from hurts I couldn't handle and stood behind me and been my back up in the battles I was able to fight on my own. I will be honest - this is not where I wanted to be, but it was the best thing for me. I wish that I could have gone through this on my own, if only I had been that strong.
Little by little, day by day, like a broken leg on the mend, I've found strength I didn't know that I had. Brick by brick, I've begun rebuilding my life. My ex may have thought that he destroyed me because he burned everything to the ground, but I still have a firm foundation on which to rebuild. He can't take that away from me. This house may be smaller and a little less grand than the last one I built, but I've learned along the way to build stronger and sturdier.
So, happy 1st anniversary strong, independent Sarah! You've made it through the first year and you can make it through the next.
My first choice was where I was going to go. I had no reason to stay in Michigan alone. Should I go back home to West Virginia and my old life as if nothing happened? Not possible. I could have gone home, but it would not have been the same and I would have been disappointed. So I ran to the only safe place I could think of - I came to stay with my dad. For those of you who know the story, you know that was not an easy decision. In the end, the benefits outweighed any doubts. Thus, I became a resident of the great state of Pennsylvania.
I know what you're thinking - she's a grown woman and she is running home to her dad. What the heck? I felt that way, too, but I had to swallow my pride and accept some help. My ex had left me with nothing, quite literally. He had forced me to quit my job, had taken all of our money, and had allowed the car that he bought me to be repossessed. I had nothing except my "stuff" and an appointment for a job interview.
Besides the help I needed with basic living expenses, I was an emotional train wreck. The years of berating and name calling and belittling had taken their toll - and he was still on the attack. So I did what every girl does when she's scared. I ran to my dad crying for him to protect me. I may be a grown woman, but I still know that when my dad is around, he's not going to let anything happen to me. I don't have the words to express my gratitude to him and his wife for taking me in this last year and giving me a place of rest and peace and healing. Dad has sheltered me from hurts I couldn't handle and stood behind me and been my back up in the battles I was able to fight on my own. I will be honest - this is not where I wanted to be, but it was the best thing for me. I wish that I could have gone through this on my own, if only I had been that strong.
Little by little, day by day, like a broken leg on the mend, I've found strength I didn't know that I had. Brick by brick, I've begun rebuilding my life. My ex may have thought that he destroyed me because he burned everything to the ground, but I still have a firm foundation on which to rebuild. He can't take that away from me. This house may be smaller and a little less grand than the last one I built, but I've learned along the way to build stronger and sturdier.
So, happy 1st anniversary strong, independent Sarah! You've made it through the first year and you can make it through the next.
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